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File 122738973665.jpg - (97.07KB , 850x623 , Tangle.jpg ) [iqdb]
69034 No. 69034
It was worth a trip back down here, you think. Well worth it, and a very enjoyable afternoon. The lower caverns below the city truly were as spectacular as advertised. More so, even. The Hall of the Oni, with its giant stalagmites (petrified oni, the legends say, but no one really believes that) rising hundreds of meters into the air and yet not even close to the roof - ah. Ah, very much ah, even the memory of it fills you with awe. And the old, crumbling bridges beneath the subway, spanning chasms of pure inky blackness as deep as the sky on the surface is high! And the undercity itself, brimming with a sort of night life truer than any party to be found up above!

Well, mostly, at least. The chasms are no doubt filled with the litter of ages, wherever they finally bottom out, the stalagmites are polished daily to remove the wear and tear of the Hall's constant parade of visitors, and you rather suspect that the night life's "true" feeling is nothing more than an illusion brought on by familiarity.

You did grow up here, after all, and while that familiarity dispels for you some of the more popular illusions about the underground, it also grants you a deeper still sense of wonder. An admiration for what falls through the cracks, so to speak. In the deserted corners of the Hall of the Oni, you found a captivating luminous fungus, and at the chasms you amused yourself by paying attention to the scrapes, the chinks in the rock just under the old bridges, the marks of the ancient architects and their accomplishments. Not everything here was made by magic, and there's magic to be found in that. Every crevice, every alley might hold a new and interesting discovery.

This alley, however, is a total bust. You stand in a dismal culvert at the back of the Komeiji Facility, behind its classrooms for the orphans, and quite contrasting with the famous institute's image of a safe, happy place. It has extended far beyond the point where the exterior's stately Gothic carvings cease, ends in nothing but bare, slightly damp brown rock, and you have found nothing of interest but a door that lacks even the courtesy of a label or handle.

Perhaps you should call it a day.

>

Here we go again. Yes, I'm still working on RaAN. Trying to get myself back in the mood to be able to write it. This will be different, and should have shorter and faster updates, multiple ones in a session, HY-style. Write ins only. You'll get the hang of it soon enough, I hope.

If it seems familiar to you... it might not be. Sit back and enjoy the ride.


>> No. 69036
[x] Examine the door. Can it be opened? Maybe try knocking....

Hum~
>> No. 69037
[x] Examine the door. Can it be opened? Maybe try knocking....
>> No. 69038
[x] Examine the door. Can it be opened? Maybe try knocking....
Eh ok.
>> No. 69042
The door is a featureless slab of metal embedded in the granite wall, painted a dingy pinkish-brown to match the surrounding stone. It bears no markings or other features whatsoever. A glossy, featureless square black plate sits near it, at a little below eye level for you. Doubtless it has something to do with opening the door, but its workings remain a mystery to you.

Somewhere behind you, you can hear a few happy voices, perhaps from some of the children who attend school here. The spinning clickity-clack of a bicycle's wheels mingles with their laughs as it passes the mouth of the alleyway.

>
>> No. 69043
>EAT Happy Voices
>> No. 69045
LOOK children
>> No. 69046
>PUNCH square plate.
>> No. 69048
[ ] Place your hand on the square plate.
>> No. 69049
[x] Place your hand on the square plate.
>> No. 69051
A button, perhaps? Eagerly, you place your hand on the cold black plate and press against it.

Nothing happens. You can hear the children begin to play some sort of game, counting and yelling something in rhyme, and catch a glimpse of a cherubic blonde head with pointed ears and a carefree smile as the little girl skips past.

Beginning to feel a little discouraged, you persist in your exploration and try simply knocking on the door, again to no avail. A frustrated punch aimed at the black plate accomplishes nothing other than bruising your knuckles and your pride.

>
>> No. 69054
[x] Go talk to the children about the door.
>> No. 69055
[X] Leave the door be, surely nothing important can be accomplished here.
>> No. 69058
>TALK Children

These six sentence long updates about how nothing happens when you screw with the big door, they seem to be pointing me in another direction.
>> No. 69059
{X} Go talk to the children about the door.
>> No. 69060
>TALK Children
>> No. 69068
>TALK Children
>> No. 69088
Yay, Blankfag is back! It's good to know you're still here.
>> No. 69099
[x] Go talk to the children about the door.
>> No. 69100
I've missed you Ted.
>> No. 69101
[x] Stand on the plate.
[x] Bash your head against the plate.
[x] Take a dump on the plate.
>> No. 69102
[x] Place the little girl on the plate.
>> No. 69104
Perhaps one of the children has to touch the plate? Opens only to know residents?

Regardless, why are we trying to get in anyway?

[ ] Go talk to the children.
>> No. 69109
>>69104
100% map completion.
>> No. 69110
Enough of this. You came back here for a day of vacation, and there's only so much entertainment to be obtained from urban exploration. The mysterious door is probably nothing more than an "Emergency-Exit-Do-Not-Open-Alarm-Will-Sound" from the inside, that ubiquitous species of portal that infests seemingly every building these days. Even ones as seemingly ancient and grand as this.

Clearing your mind of such depressingly mundane thoughts, you briskly trot out of the alley, smiling and waving to the children to put them at ease. There are four of them - the blonde girl you spotted earlier, a young oni boy with a stubby horn growing out of the top of his head, and two green haired humans who look like twins. After a moment of hesitation, they greet you back and accept your offer of turning their jumprope for them. You'll probably have to answer to whoever's supervising them eventually, but the establishment's reputation keeps them safe and their minds light. No one, but no one, would attempt to harm children under the care of the Komeiji Institute, especially not at their main building.

"Hey, nice lady, what's your name?" the oni asks, tugging at your leg, and you smile and reply.

"I'm..."

A piercing violet corona of light invades your skull.
Every nerve flares in pain for an instant, then fades into numb paralysis.
>> No. 69112
File 122740380373.jpg - (86.71KB , 770x1000 , Satori10.jpg ) [iqdb]
69112
Slowly, you come to again, and once more take note of your surroundings.

You lie in a small round room upon a sturdy padded chair, almost fully reclined. It bears no small resemblance to a dentist's chair, even down to the racks of unpleasantly sharp and intrusive instruments placed next to it and the cold figure towering over you, ready to use them.

But she won't need them. And no dentist's chair you've ever seen has gone so far as to include firmly binding restraints. From the corner of your eye, you look over the bonds again. Red, green, gleaming, they could be mistaken for glass necklaces and bracelets by those who did not know better. One on each arm. One on each leg. One around your neck. All tight, pressing the sensation of cold metal into your limbs and throat.

They are all you can feel, save a few ghostly pins and needles and a vague sensation of coldness. The rest of your body is numb.

Above you, the giant violet eye continues to strip your soul naked. You follow its outline, barely able to even move your eyes, but nonetheless tracing the tubes and arteries snaking from its grotesque form to its owner.

Satori Komeiji sits in her own simple chair, facing yours, impassive. Her frame is small and lightly clothed. She'd almost be able to pass for one of the children she cared for - almost. But the proportions are wrong for a human, in subtle ways you can't describe. Her arms are a little too short, her head a little too large, her hips a little too wide... maybe. Oh, and she has a titanic, bloodshot-purple third eye growing out of her body, who knows from where. The pictures in the papers, you reflect, always managed to make her look dainty, even beautiful, but in person she is anything but.

She speaks, every word telegraphed in the eye as though the organ itself was a terrible puppeteer, tugging on the blood vessels to jerk her body into action. Perhaps it is. But you must concentrate on her words.

"... Yamame Kurodani. I know your real name. And your nicknames, as well. The Mottled Fever, the Spider Webbing in the Darkness. The Shining Net in the Dark Caves. The Black Widow."

Her mouth curls into what might be a smile on a child with cleft palate and other assorted deformities.

"Unoriginal. How many 'Black Widows' can there be? But I know you deserve it. I will grant you that much."

The eye leans forward.

"And I know that is not what you did. If you had had the sense to walk away from that door, or never come near it in the first place, we wouldn't be here, now, would we? You are no tourist, and none of the children saw you. No, that is not what you did."

Further.

"You will tell me what you really did. You do not have a choice. You cannot hide anything from me. You cannot lie to me. You will tell me on your own, or..."

That smile again.

"... we could do this the hard way. The hard way, as you know, will not leave anything of yourself left. I will find out, one way or another. It is up to you. Now, then..."

Blissfully, the eye retreats to its earlier position.

"Are you ready to tell me how you opened that door?"

A bit of the paralysis around your head fades, enough for a simple response.

>
>> No. 69113
You sure do like Satori, huh, Blankfag?
>> No. 69115
Oops. Shouldn't have touched that door.
"I don't know how." Is too obvious. Perhaps admitting we touched the plate would be the best course of action.

>Spider Webbing in the Darkness.

Did there, I see, what, etc.
>> No. 69116
[x] "I tried touching the black plate, knocked on the door, punched the plate, and left. Unless it's on a time delay, or it only opens when you stop looking at it, I can't help you."
>> No. 69117
[x] "I tried touching the black plate, knocked on the door, punched the plate, and left. Unless it's on a time delay, or it only opens when you stop looking at it, I can't help you."
>> No. 69118
[x] "Open it? How the hell should I know? That damn thing wouldn't budge no matter what I did, so I just left it. I went into the ally, and the next thing I know, I wake up here, strapped to a chair with a freakish eyeball staring at me" you snort in contempt.
[x] "I wish I were the one who opened it, though. That would have been interesting".
>> No. 69121
[ ] "Used my head." Wink at her.

Lets piss her off. Come on. From her description of us, we might be bad enough to do it.
>> No. 69122
[x] "Open it? How the hell should I know? That damn thing wouldn't budge no matter what I did, so I just left it. I went into the ally, and the next thing I know, I wake up here, strapped to a chair with a freakish eyeball staring at me" you snort in contempt.
[x] "I wish I were the one who opened it, though. That would have been interesting".
>> No. 69124
[x] Tell her it's safe. It's very safe. It's so safe she wouldn't believe it.
>> No. 69129
[x] "I tried touching the black plate, knocked on the door, punched the plate, and left. Unless it's on a time delay, or it only opens when you stop looking at it, I can't help you."
>> No. 69188
A number of possible answers run through your mind, most of them entirely too smart-alecky for your current position. But why not? She is on her side. You are on yours.

"D.." you choke, fighting the lax muscles of your own throat to wheeze a reply out. A single word is all you can manage. "Dunno."

Immediately you wish you had not said that, as the eye twists its puppet's mouth into that expression again. Smile, you decide, is not a good word for it. She holds up a slim metal rod, just outside the area your eyes are mostly fixed upon.

"Of course not. The door magically opened itself up, because it likes you so much, and you waltzed in here completely by mistake... no, no, I think not. Not for you, Widow. But as it happens, this is one question to which I already know the answer."

Satori begins turning the rod over in her hands, rolling it between her fingers. Her motions alternate between completely fluid and erratic and jerky; she nearly drops it twice before continuing.

"An electromagical lockpick. Very, very sophisticated. Beyond our grasp, to be sure. Beyond even the Lunarians' grasp, and yes, I do know that for a fact. But you, now, hmhmhhhhmm..."

Her laughter sounds unlike anything you've ever heard, but the tone is universal.

"You opened the door with this. You will show me how it works. And then you will continue to show me the rest."

The eye leans forward again, and grapes form around the edges of your vision.

...

And you stand again in the alley with the door before you.

>

That's all for tonight. Continued... possibly tomorrow? Possibly not? We'll see. Comments are appreciated as usual. Just for future clarification, my interpretation of "simple response" is along the lines of a single word. While the witty comebacks are appreciated, this is a story for deeds, not words.
>> No. 69189
>>69188

Been liking it so far. Playing as Yamame is rather interesting, and seeing where you go with this if you should continue should be a fun trip.
>> No. 69192
>CRY

This sucks, we're screwed.
>> No. 69211
>Kill door with bare hands.

Because somebody needed to do it sooner or later.
>> No. 69212
$10 on this is somehow Koishi's fault.
>> No. 69225
File 122744508038.jpg - (58.63KB , 800x533 , TheDoctorandSonicScrewdriver.jpg ) [iqdb]
69225
>electromagnetic lockpick

Not at all like a sonic screwdriver.
>> No. 69228
This is good and I've missed your writing.

Interesting question right now is if this is reality or not, perhaps we're just been dumped down in front of a 'door' which is a representation.

> Kick the door.

Got to try something.
>> No. 69233
Here's the real question:

Did we use an electromagical lockpick to open the door, or is Satori just fucking with our head and trying to make us believe that we did?
>> No. 69308
[x] Check inventory.
>> No. 69313
>>69308
Yes, this!
>> No. 69314
[x] Check inventory.
>> No. 69315
[x] Check inventory.
>> No. 69319
The door stands before you. You stand before the door.

It is a door. Impassive. Closed. Unopenable. Imposing. Solid.

You are Yamame Kurodani. Yourself. Same as usual.

You consider kicking it, or attempting to tear it down with your bare hands. Obviously impossible. You consider breaking down and crying. Obviously unproductive.

You are carrying nothing of importance, except your lockpick, which is a small metal rod a bit larger than your middle finger, with an LED status dot on one end and an odd glossy matrix on the other.

>
>> No. 69320
>USE Lockpick: Door
>> No. 69321
[ ] Use the lockpick.
>> No. 69324
>USE Lockpick: Door

Yamame Kurodani, master of unlocking!
>> No. 69325
You place the pick's matrix against the cool black plate, and wait. The status dot lights up, at first shining a dull orange. After a few seconds, the orange gives way to yellow, then to blue, and steadily moves towards green.

Somewhere outside the alley, the children have changed their game. They now seem to be playing tag.

The dot flashes green, then white, then dims, and you remove the lockpick and put it away again. In front of you, the door slides neatly open, making only a slight hiss as it does so.

>
>> No. 69326
> Enter door.
>> No. 69327
>ENTER Door
>> No. 69328
>TALK Children

No Anon! You'll make a time paradox!
>> No. 69329
Wait! What happens if we walk away now? Are we re-playing history or are we actually making our actions in the past real or not? Is this illusion or reality?

Ugh, my head hurts.
>> No. 69330
This just makes me wonder how a Level 1 Boss has access to technology even beyond lunarian and kappa levels.
>> No. 69331
File 122750011026.jpg - (384.03KB , 800x800 , c4d327db89f8a82921e8ed8f85e55b24.jpg ) [iqdb]
69331
>>69328

This woman's going to floss her teeth with our nervous system and rinse her mouth out with our brain.

If I'm going down I'm taking this entire dimension with me.
>> No. 69333
File 122750055871.jpg - (65.37KB , 777x500 , Satori7.jpg ) [iqdb]
69333
You cross the threshold, and proceed to -

... glaring violet light

Satori's third eye retreats momentarily. She's smiling again, and twitching in satisfaction like... no, don't go there.

"Simple, so simple, as expected. Theory made reality, by your side. And soon enough by ours. That's really all there is to it, isn't it? Just hold it up, and go inside. No worries about it falling into the wrong hands? Of course not. You were," she purrs, "so overconfident. I can see it in you, oh, really I can."

She turns the lockpick around a few more times before carefully placing it on one of the instrument racks. Then her head snaps around at an ugly angle, and the eye throws itself at you, stopping bare inches from your face. You can't even blink to remove its gaze for a second, though your own eyes have begun to water from all the oddly colored lights floating above.

"That was so very nice. And this was truly all you brought with you?"

>
>> No. 69335
>>Theory made reality

Shit, I knew it.

Okay. Satori's got mental control of some kind but we're tied down, suggesting that if we were free then we would actually present some kind of a threat. We need to get out. How? I have no idea.
>> No. 69337
>>69333

[x] "I think so.
>> No. 69339
[x] "I think so."
>> No. 69348
>>69335
Adding an actual vote.

> "Maybe."

Start pissing her off, dammit.
>> No. 69355
Attempting to twitch your head in something resembling a nod, you answer her with a whispered "Yes."

You can't tell if this pleases or displeases your captor, as the eye flexes in the air and commands your attention.

"How intriguing. We found the rest of your equipment, so you are suggesting what? A traitor, a plant? You picked the belt up somewhere inside? But no..." Her voice drops. "Your line, at least. The Widow's trademark. One of a kind, even on your side, I think, yes? Yes. I don't believe you would give that up to another to plant it in here. You are only trying to hide, you see, but you cannot hide anything from me."

The eye widens, and you steel yourself in preparation for the inevitable return to memory... but it does not immediately come.

"Joking," Satori whispers. "Are you joking with me?"

>
>> No. 69356
>>69319
Fuck yes, sonic screwdriver.

>>69324
Fuck yes, Gamer's Manifesto.
>> No. 69357
> Yes, I am joking.
>> No. 69358
[x] "No!"

We're framed. We're fucked. Game over, man. Game over.
>> No. 69359
[x] "It was the Walrus!"

loli dot'n know
>> No. 69362
[x] ...Maybe.
>> No. 69364
>>69359
I am the Hakutaku.
I am the Hakutaku.
Reimu is dead.
>> No. 69378
>>69357
> Yes
>>69358
> No
>>69362
> Maybe
>>69359
> Walrus

... I'm not entirely sure what to do with this.
>> No. 69379
>>69378

Yamame has a meltdown under Satori's pressure.
>> No. 69380
[x]Dunno
>> No. 69385
>>69379

Or a dice roll. Dice rolls are fun.
>> No. 69388
[x] "No!"
>> No. 69393
>>69378
[x] Panicked confusion
>> No. 69405
[x] "No!"
>> No. 69406
I really hope we get to break free and headbutt Satori. She is deeply disturbing in this.

[ ] Ignore her.

I repeat again, start pissing her off.
>> No. 69428
>>69406
Actually, according to legends, satori supposedly will either die or get frightened if the one she's reading somehow blanks her mind, so a more efficient way would be:
[X] Say nothing, think of nothing.
>> No. 69430
>>69428
Or they just get bored and leave. Besides, traditional satori read thoughts, where as Satori also reads hearts. Good luck trying to blank your heart.
>> No. 69434
>>69430
Bah, what is called a heart is simply the non-rational part of the brains, namely emotions. Sure, it can be hard to blank but we're motherfucking yamame.
>> No. 69439
>>69378
Go all of them. It'll be hilarious.

[x] "It was the Walrus!"

I'm voting for this because it's so out there.
>> No. 69755
File 122775030137.jpg - (71.97KB , 850x477 , Satori11.jpg ) [iqdb]
69755
Seconds stretch out as Satori studies you. She seems to expect an answer. All right, then.

"W..." Again you encounter difficulties moving your lips. Satori notices your attempt to speak, twitches violently, and suddenly you can move your head again.

"Yes?" She murmurs, almost pleasantly.

"Walrus." You clear your throat and continue to share the great secret with her. "It was the walrus."

Satori says nothing for a long time. The eye leaves the vicinity of your chair and begins to orbit her head. (Its connecting vessels should twist and knot, but you seem to lose sight of them whenever they pass behind her body... best not to think about it too much, you decide.)

"Yamame..." Her two human(oid) eyes stare at the floor. "Oh, my little girl, always the spark. I watched you, you know, when you lived here. I suppose you don't remember me. I wonder what happened. I'm not used to wondering things, you well know. But there's no point in lecturing you on ingratitude. You've grown up and made your choices."

The eye resumes its position before your face, though its body still seems lost in thought.

"I liked you better when you were a spider, not just a spy. In any case, we found your tools. Continue - we don't have time for jokes."

Blinding violet light...

You stand in a low tunnel, clearly designed to look natural, but just as clearly not. Only the polished floor seems like it could be natural stone, and you're not sure of that either. A ceiling tile hangs loose above your head, near one of the light fixtures that cast the entire corridor in a bright flourescent sheen. Just ahead, the hall ends in a T-junction.
>> No. 69756
[ ] Turn around, leave the building, just run, don't go where she wants you to go.
>> No. 69757
>>69755

[x] Use your webbing to climb up into the ceiling if possible.
>> No. 69758
>REMOVE Ceiling Tile
>> No. 69761
>GO UP to CEILING TILE
>OPEN CEILING TILE

...Maybe use some webbing to seal it to the ceiling so it doesn't fall down and make noise.
>> No. 69768
File 122775402847.jpg - (171.18KB , 650x800 , Yamame4.jpg ) [iqdb]
69768
The loose panel catches your eye. You should get up there and check it out, yes. It's just a bit too high for you to jump to, but that won't be a problem.

You are carrying nothing of importance, except your lockpick, which is a small metal rod a bit larger than your middle finger, with an LED status dot on one end and an odd glossy matrix on the other, and the heavy tool belt concealed around your waist, which holds a small flashlight, a hydroptical camoflauge net, a catalytic acid pack, and a magically malleable shaped explosive (all marked with small red minus symbols,) as well as a voice receiver, a radio reciever, a timer, a toggle switch, a pushbutton, a voice transmitter and a radio transmitter (all marked with small green plus symbols,) and one final object - your spiderline.

Your trademark, pride, and joy, painstakingly distilled from nothing less than your own body and treated with various processes you have trained yourself not to think about, the line has served you well in the past, and you're quite certain it will come in handy in the future as well. As for the present? You deftly attach one end of the line to your hand and fling it upwards, latching onto the ceiling and drawing yourself swiftly up towards the misaligned tile.

As you expected, the panel pushes up easily to reveal a dark crawlspace between the panels and the metal lattice above them. Crawlspace is perhaps a bit of a misnomer, as the area is quite thin, and often blocked by what you presume to be the building's electrical systems, plumbing, and other assorted construction fare. There certainly isn't enough room for you to hide up there, let alone try to use it to get anywhere else in the facility - and you're certain this was precisely the designer's intent.

What there IS room for, however, is a small, square package about the size of your fist, wrapped in brown paper and sitting just over the panel's lip inside the crawlspace.

>
>> No. 69769
[ ] Take package.

Rushing toward oblivion, can't stop us now.
>> No. 69770
>>69768

>Examine BROWN PAPER BAG
>> No. 69771
>>69768
> IGNORE package
>> No. 69773
>OPEN Package
>> No. 69777
>OPEN Package
>> No. 69835
[X] Prod the package with Walrus. Get pills against your orders, get moving.
>> No. 70061
Nodding in approval, you reach out and grasp the packaOUCH! A sharp metal edge, concealed over the ceiling panel's lip, slices into your careless palm. You swing slightly back on the line, wishing you'd thought to bring a first aid kit as well. Ah well. After doing your best to wipe the cut clean, you examine the damage. A few drops of bright crimson blood smear onto the metal panels, almost dripping to the floor. Not good - you'll have to hope nobody notices it before you leave.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, you pick up the package carefully, fingers outstretched, and tap it in approval. All in order. For a moment, you consider opening it, but it's not yet time.

The spiderline lowers you safely to the floor after you return the panel to its original position. Time to move on.

Ahead of you, the passage branches. To the left, you can hear the rhythmic thumping of machinery, while from the right there comes a high pitched hum.

>
>> No. 70062
Okay, yeah. Something is fucking wrong here. Why was that in italics?

> Go right. High-pitched hum means computers.
>> No. 70063
>>70062
Opening boxes is the third-most leading cause of Anonymous Bad Ends.
>> No. 70065
>GO RIGHT
>> No. 70066
>>70062
...or high-voltage electrical equipment.
>> No. 70067
File 122810683817.jpg - (95.70KB , 735x900 , 85791f4fb79d40023bf0bcb31550a3f9.jpg ) [iqdb]
70067
>Why was that in italics?

Epileptic tree time!
>> No. 70073
>GO WRIGHT
Fly by silk~
>> No. 70076
> GO LEFT
The machines, they call to us.
>> No. 70083
I'm guessing by the package that we're not just a spy but some kind of agent saboteur.

>To the left, you can hear the rhythmic thumping of machinery, while from the right there comes a high pitched hum.

[x] Go right.

If that hum is from the power generator, then you'll want to go there first. Knocking out the power is an easy way to cause widespread chaos and darkness that will serve as your cover. Once the power is shutdown, you can move on to sabotage the machinery in a more permanent manner.
>> No. 70120
A thought!

Perhaps this is simply an interesting method of storytelling, and that by delving into our memories we are in fact deciding what did happen, and our decisions here affect the situation back at the table.

Or maybe it's just Satori mindfuck. I dunno.
>> No. 70149
>>70120
This makes a lot of sense. Also, I'm enjoying it immensely. Back to work, Blankfag~
>> No. 70185
>>70120
I'd already assumed most of that, though I was thinking it was more of a way for Satori to recreate it and see what we would do again, rather than us actually showing what DID happen, by doing it in the Satori-scenes.
>> No. 70418
Peeping around the corners first, you ascertain that the corridor is empty before proceeding down the right branch. The passage is short, and ends in a blank, solid grey door with a black security panel next to it, much like the portal you entered the facility through. A similar door stands just before this, on the left, but rather than being blank this one is marked with a single dotted red line across its surface. Very curious.

On the other side of the hall, however, lies the room where that soft whine is coming from. It lies behind a simple door, indeed one that normal people might actually consider a door at all, with a real knob and a frosted glass window. Through this, you can see that the room's ceiling lights are not on, if it even has any, but several glowing lights (probably monitors or screens of some sort) provide spotty illumination regardless. You see something blurred move once, and snatch your head back.

>
>> No. 70422
>HIDE, determine whether you were spotted.

If so, they may end up investigating. If not, then not.
>> No. 70427
Wait, no matter what happens, we get captured, right? Since we're already in the Round Room. Is this determined by when we screw up, or is there a dedicated screwing-up point sometime down the line?

> Hide, observe door. If nobody emerges, use lockpick on black security panel.
>> No. 70429
Your first instinct is to hide from whoever might be in that room, but the empty hallway provides not even the slightest bit of cover. If someone were to emerge right now - well, perhaps you could go to the ceiling and get the drop on them, but it would be risky at best. Fortunately, the doors all remain closed for now.

You press your ear to the wall, listening for any signs of... anything. Sure enough, a few seconds later you can clearly hear someone in the dark room sigh loudly and speak.

"So ronery..."

>
>> No. 70431
>ATTACK Ronery Person
>SAY "Ronery? What the fuck does that even mean?! Do you have a speech impediment?"

Does Yamame browse 4chan? I think not.
>> No. 70432
>>70429
>WEB Ronery Person
>SEDUCE Ronery Person
>> No. 70433
Wait, what?

> Enter room.

I have got to see this.
>> No. 70435
File 122827164473.jpg - (170.50KB , 600x600 , Orin24.jpg ) [iqdb]
70435
Wait. What?

Could it be that an aching heart lies within this room?

Could love bloom on the clandestine battlefield?

Deeply moved, you stand up, turn the door's handle and enter the room.

As you suspected, it's some sort of room full of computers. All right, that was a very vague suspicion, but it was correct and that's the important thing. Most of them show assorted programs and values that go straight over your head, but towards the center one monitor displays something that is at least comprehensible to you - a very well drawn stylized picture of a... girl, maybe, or a very effeminate young man, wearing little in the way of clothing and staring out from the screen wistfully.

The computer's operator, a young-looking woman with bright orange-red hair in a phosphorescent black and green dress, squeaks and turns around at your entry. You recognize her from your data as one Rin Kaenbyou.

"Who are you?!" she lisps, reaching wide-eyed towards some device on the desk next to her. Then she stops. "Wait! Don't tell me! You're mai waifu in shining webbing, come at last to love me and take me back to the wonderous two-dee world!"

Spinning in glee, she rushes into your arms. You nod, and open yourself to her, shedding your top, and the two of you fall to the floor, kissing and touching and...

glaring violet light

Komeiji stares at you, wordlessly repulsed. Even the giant eye flinches.

The corners of your mouth curl slightly upwards.

She breaks eye contact first (or rather, the puppet does. THE eye remains firmly fixed on you.)

"Don't be difficult. You have described Orin's... habits... well enough, but we do know she didn't see you until much later. Was I not plain before? Keep the jokes to a minimum, and this will be as short and painless as I can make it." She pauses and paces. "Or are you attempting to paint her as your conspirator? There is one, as I thought, someone who planted your mysterious package. But surely you would not give them away so easily."

The eye bobs.

"Do you even grasp what is happening? Do you understand, or are you just an insect to their whims? You'd say you do, of course. But have you thought about it? Truly thought about what this means?"

>
>> No. 70436
>>70435

>"Who are you?!" she lisps, reaching wide-eyed towards some device on the desk next to her. Then she stops. "Wait! Don't tell me! You're mai waifu in shining webbing, come at last to love me and take me back to the wonderous two-dee world!"

>Spinning in glee, she rushes into your arms. You nod, and open yourself to her, shedding your top, and the two of you fall to the floor, kissing and touching and...

Haha, oh wow.
>> No. 70437
>>70435
> SAY Of course I understand.
> GRIN
> SAY We did it for the lulz!
>> No. 70438
Should have known, oh wow.

Well? Do as she suggests.

> Think.
>> No. 70446
HAHAHAHA AWESOME

>NO
>> No. 70481
>"Do you understand, or are you just an insect to their whims?"
...

>SAY "That's arachnid, Squinty."
>SAY "Understand? I dunno, but I understand you have me tied down in a dark room while you do ...things... in my head. It doesn't really foster a spirit of cooperation."
>> No. 70482
>ASK "Their?"

You don't have the slightest fucking clue what you're talking about, do you?
>> No. 70788
>>70482
I already voted, but I'm bumping this back up anyway. What the fuck is wrong with you all?
>> No. 70789
>ASK "Their?"

Fine.
>> No. 70884
Needs more RAN.