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77737 No. 77737
So, Renko likes firearms? Well, that's just her expressing her Second Amendment rights. You've already accepted that she could kill you with either her bare hands or a switchblade, so what's another weapon added to the list? In a way, it's reassuring: When push comes to shove, and shove comes to "gunning down every last one of those motherfuckers," it'll be your friend standing atop the pile of corpses.
Which is not to say you'll condone the girl specializing in skills only applicable to murder: Make Love, Not War. At least, that's the caption says on the poster of two rhinoceroses humping you've got hanging over your doorway. Don't they look happy? Hey Ren, wouldn't you rather look as contented as that Mama Rhino, doing what's natural with Papa Rhino, as opposed to bearing down toward a mustached man in tan shorts with a comically oversized double rifle? (What kind of cartridge would be required to bag a charging Renko? .50 BMG? .700 Nitro Express?)
Maybe not in so many words, but still, it's your duty as her friend to lead her away from so self-destructive a lifestyle. This is certainly not just a ploy to engage in sexual relations with a woman you only bedded last night that you've been crushing on since sixth grade and oh God was it everything you hoped it to—
"Maxey, are you in there?" A hand waves in front of your face.
"Like jackrabbits."
"What?" Ren looks at you incredulously.
"I said, 'I think it’s a bad habit.’"
“Target shooting is?” Skeptical only in the face of your value judgment; your slip passes by undetected. Of course, how could she have expected your mind to somehow jump from guns to sex. It’s a shame Ren. For all your tomboyishness and apparent struggle with sexual identity, the male mindset will be forever closed to you. You lacks an essential depravity.
“Yes. I think it’s a waste of your talents.” The double entendre forces you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from tittering. “Any idiot can fire a gun. They’re weapons of desperation. You have a gift. That time you sliced Meira’s ear off? Man, that was art.” Holy Christ what are you saying?
Ren gives an appraising hum. On now look, she’s taken it to heart; for shame, Max, encouraging violence! It’s time to take emergency correctional measures.
You stand up from the side of the bed, stacking the empty plates and half-empty coffee mugs. “Find something in my closet to wear for the day. We’re taking a shower,” you state insistently.
“Huh? Is that necessary? I got my own clothes and my own shower, Max.”
You brush the scraps into the garbage disposal and start washing the dishes and the frying pan. “No, there’s no time,” you lie, not looking back at her. “The fairy could be upon us at any moment.” Well, that isn’t really a lie, but the sense of urgency you’re trying to impart Is definitely phony.
After pregnant pause, where you’re unsure if she’s buying it, “I already gave you what you wanted. I don’t see how this involves me,” she airs disaffectedly. The tone of her voice makes your blood boil.
“What the fuck, Ren? You decided to involve yourself the moment you locked lips with me!” You snap at her. Not good. Not good. You’re genuinely angry now, and you don’t really know why. All you can do is stand there, scouring the plates that are already clean, shaking in embarrassment and anger, while she stands up from the bed, puts on her clothes, and walks through that door and out of your life forever. So stupid…
Arms encircle your waist. You freeze.
“I’m sorry, baby.” You don’t know that penitent girlfriend is really the role you want for Ren to play, but you won’t push away this comfort, pressing up against your back, nuzzling your neck.
“It’s very confusing, you know?” You drop the plates in the sink, and take the opportunity to vent. “I have these people who meant something to me in the past come back into my life, but now they’re different, and I’m different, and they mean something else, but I don’t know what.”
“I know, baby,” she coos. “I’m confused too.”
“And then there’s this fairy goddess gone rogue AI who tells me she’s the reason I was born, and makes these demands of me, telling me that the Vault is depending on me, and I don’t know why I’m the one who has to go back out there, when it nearly killed me once already!”
“It’s okay, Maxey. You don’t have to bear it alone. You have friends. You have me.”
So why do you suddenly feel so great a weight upon your chest, hearing this? The sincerity of her words is meant to reassure, but feels more like a condemnation: You’ve entangled another in a fate meant for yourself. Whereas an early death was a possible, even expected, outcome for you, could you say the same for anyone else? Wasn’t the very purpose of entertaining Daiyousei’s plan was so that rest of the Vault could flourish, even if it put your life at risk? Is anything worth risking the lives of these friends you’ve rediscovered since yesterday?
But perhaps such an assessment was too selfish to begin with, the romantic notion of trading your meaningless, purposeless existence underground into one of heroism and sacrifice, and glossing over all the people whose lives you’ve touched and have been touched by along the way: Daiyousei, the irreverent fairy bard, Maribel, the comically intemperate priestess, Renko, the cunning and deft rogue, Miss Ellen, the bumbling, forgetful magician with, of course, her attendant familiar Sokrates—even Meira, the mysterious swordswoman from the Orient and one time antagonist turned unlikely ally—all these, and at the front of the formation, Chevalier Rockatansky atop his war charger, a 1973 Ford Falcon XB GT coupe, riding into glorious battle against the mutant scourge!
“You okay now?”
Oh right, Ren is comforting you. Lucky thing she can’t see your face, now that you’re frothing at the mouth like a drug fiend whose main turn-ons are sharp objects, Psycho, and staying up all night. You need to regain the appropriate amount of gravity in your voice, so try to think of something sad, like Bambi’s mother getting shot—oh no wait that’s too sad.
“Oh Max, don’t cry! Things aren’t that bad! You’re stronger than this!”
“I’m not crying!” She only wanted to find a patch of grass to feed her child, and you killed her for it, you bastards.



It takes some time, over a cup of tea that she brews for the both of you, to explain to Ren that you were in the throes of Disney-related trauma rather than having an existential breakdown. She doesn’t seem very convinced, and by now you’ve wasted enough time (Pip-Boy: 8:11 AM) that there’s no question as to whether Ren will be doing her usual thing today, whatever that entails apart from shooting things and loitering in the hallways with her fellow Snakes. No, once she told you she was getting herself a fresh set of clothes, and that you’ll both take a shower when she comes back, it became pretty clear that your (misinterpreted) display of vulnerability meant you were going to be stuck with her for at least the rest of the day. Which is not entirely a bad thing; at least you’ll be on even footing when you go up against Dai and Mary. While the chance for disaster is high, there’s also the chance to end the misplaced aggression they have toward each other. Or at least, that’ll be the excuse you can give Dai when she asks why you brought her along—not that she doesn’t have a number of things to explain herself, that fairy.
“Maxey?” Ren asks, voice muffled by the door.
“Come in,” you say. Hope she’s not going to be treating you with kid gloves for the rest of the day now.
She’s wearing her rumpled clothes from last night, as well as the fedora, carrying a new set in her arms, which she places down in your bed.
She bites a fingernail, turning to leave again “Fuck, I left my accouterments behind in my room. Gimme a min.”
“Don’t worry about it, I have plenty,” you say as you make toward the door, ushering her along with you.

>> No. 77740
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77740


“Wow.”
“Yep.” It’s hard to prevent the pride from leaking into your voice. Aside from the penis, the private bath is what sets you apart from the rank-and-file Vault dweller, miraculously maintained by a hard-working cadre of cleaning fairies, for whom you leave “tips” as often as is feasible: A chocolate bar here, a package of Swedish fish there, even a can of Atai synth-beer is received graciously. The only “graffiti” scrawled in this restroom are the smudges you trace with your fingers when the mirrors fog up.
“Is, uh, all this stuff yours?”
“Mine enough. Chances are if a particularly fragrant bar of soap or cleverly labeled bottle of shampoo goes missing, it’ll end up here. In return for keeping the place spotless and well stocked, the fairies have a bath practically to themselves most of the time.” You’ve always had good, if curt, relations with the cleaning fairies, but you wonder now how much, if any, of it has been due to Dai’s influence.
“Yeah, but fairies have their own quarters, right?”
“They do, but think of how crowded your baths get during the high-traffic hours, and then quadruple it; it’s fairly common knowledge that the fairy population for Vault ⑨ is way higher than spec. Anyway, it’s a mutually beneficial situation, and apart from the occasional fairy walk-in, it’s a great thing to have. I even have secret compartments, where I stowed that Billy Beer, for example. But, my favorite feature is the sauna.”
“Sauna?”
And so you proceed to turn on the dozen shower faucets to hot, turning off the ventilation, so that the room fills with steam.
“Nice thing about the steam is that it’ll take the wrinkles out of your clothes if you hang them up here.”
“I didn’t realize you were so domestically-minded, Max,” she intones mockingly, while stepping closer to you leaning against the sink counter.
“Not exactly; I wanted to demonstrate with the clothes you’re wearing,” your smile turns lascivious, which she matches it with her own.
“Well, I’ll just have to take them off then, won’t I,” punctuating her rhetorical question with one of those sultry, short kisses that turn into many more short kisses.
The steam has built up so that even standing so close to each other your vision of each others’ body is obscured. Still, you won’t need perfect vision to grope with your hands. Grabbing a wire basket with some of your more favorite amenities, you drop your robe and head into the side-most stall, the one reserved for the ‘handicapped’ (as if there’d be any cripples in a genetically-selected population with access to limb regeneration & gene therapy). You turn down the temperature of the water coming through the head. Ren follows you through the curtains seconds later, having stripped down herself now. There are a few reasons why the handicapped stall is preferable to any of the others for your purposes. First of all, there’s a lot more space. Second, there’s a handrail jutting out along the wall, strong enough to support someone’s weight. Unless you’re a completely hopeless virgin, the benefits of these should be self-explanatory.
Stepping into the jet of warm water, you squeeze an excessive amount of lavender-scented liquid shampoo into your hands and are about to massage it into your scalp, when you receive a slap to your palms.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Sit down.” Ren points to the stool, sitting just outside the range of the water stream, then rinses her hands of the shampoo.
With no explanation forthcoming, there’s nothing you can do but comply. Dripping wet, squatting on a bath stool, you can’t help feeling a little ridiculous as you look at the warped reflection in the stainless steel wall panel. You’re somewhat relieved when your reflection is joined by Ren’s, also warped.
You hear the clack of a bottle opening, and then Ren starts to massage a different-scented shampoo into your hair.
“You used to call me ‘Aneki’ remember?”
“Yeah, when I was like eight,” you reply irreverently, to hide your embarrassment.
“Probably the last time I heard it would be ‘round the last time you let me wash your hair.”
“People grow up, Ren.” This line of questioning makes you uncomfortable.
“Some people grow up, Max,” she sighs as she uses the removable shower head to rinse the shampoo out of your hair. “Others merely grow apart.”
“Pithy,” you respond without sarcasm.
Ren starts to re-lather your hair, massaging your scalp more deeply this time.
“Mmm.”
“Feel good?”
“Mmhm.”
“You know how to spell my name, Max?”
“R-E-N—“
“In kanji!” She flicks your ear.
“Ow… I did. At one point, I think.”
“I’ll remind you then. Pay attention; there’ll be a quiz on this later.”
“Yes, Ms. Usami,” you say, mimicking the strained groan of a schoolboy.
Ren runs all ten of her fingers down your back, from your clavicles to your buttocks, then from your spine to your obliques, as if she were flattening out a piece of parchment.
“Usami. Three characters. First.”
She starts tracing the first over your back with a soapy finger, but you already know this one. The “T” shape with serifs along the sides, and layers of horizontal lines: It’s the pictogram of a well-thatched roof.
“宇—roof, or less literally, heavens.”
The second is less apparent; it feels sort of like a person stepping on a footstool.
“佐—helper or aide.”
The third you have no clue. An octopus?
“見—sight or vision, but also hope, novelty, fortune. All together 宇佐見 means something like: ‘One Who Points Out the Stars to Others.’”
“Fitting,” you muse.
“Ain’t it?”
“I know what ‘Renko’ means at least—Lotus Child?” you venture.
“It’s a simple name, but hey they don’t always hold some deeper meaning,” Ren rinses your hair out again, now putting a less viscous liquid in it, conditioner.
“’I love the lotus because while growing from the mud, it is unstained.’”
Ren pauses her ministrations, amused. “Now where did that come from?”
“Dunno,” you reply truthfully, wishing it came as a revelation of the Chillaxing Buddha, whom you took long ago as your own personal religious conceit. (If you meet the Buddha on the road, chill him.) As Ren washes your hair out the final time and you switch positions, you start daydreaming about an adaptation of Romeo & Juliet as a kung-fu film, the forbidden romance between you, a Shaolin monk, and Ren, an initiate of the White Lotus Clan.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“You’d want a refund,” you reply as you slowly and deliberately massage the shampoo into her scalp. “But I do have question.”
“Shoot.”
“You’ve taken on increasingly boyish mannerisms since adolescence, yet you let your hair grow out. How come?”
“It doesn’t suit me?” Completely unoffended and caring only for your opinion.
“I didn’t say that.” You rinse the shampoo out.
“Well, if you gotta know, lotta times a girl’s hair will tell you about the history of their relationships.”
Ah, you know where this is going. If cutting it is symbolic of doing away with the past, letting it grow out would mean...
“Max?” Looking back over her shoulder with her blackish brown hair plastered against her back, Ren looks downright demure. Oh, you want her.
>> No. 77741
File 123679248172.jpg - (30.60KB , 400x233 , FalloutShootItEasy.jpg ) [iqdb]
77741
You smile, grabbing a pink bar of soap and a washcloth, and start to lather Ren’s body, beginning with her back. She doesn’t protest as you move the soapy washcloth over her shoulders, under her arms, across her breasts, down her stomach. She turns her head to kiss you when you move between her thighs, taking the rag and soap bar as she stands up with you. Grinding her body against yours, her thigh against your crotch, her breasts against you chest, you both become covered in suds, the taste of which you’re unpleasantly reminded of when you nibble on Ren’s ear, evoking a sour face from you and a giggle from her. Running both hands along the length of your member, as make sure of its soapiness, Ren disengages and leans back against the wall, hands on the railing, chest out, and with what would be a come-hither expression if she weren’t having to blow away the soapsuds occluding her vision. You follow over, meeting forehead-to-forehead, your manhood pressing her stomach. A small peck on the lips, and Ren puts her arms around your neck and wraps her legs around your back. Hands at her hips supporting what the railing doesn’t, you enter, the both of you well lubricated by the water and lather.
“Mmm.”
You couldn’t have put it better yourself. Mmm. It doesn’t take long for your individual gyrations to align themselves to a single rhythm—push-pull, push-push, pull-push, pull-pull, repeat. Your mind is for the most part white noise while engaging in the oldest and most sacred of human recreations. It’s a difficult experience to compare against, even across the same range of activity with the same woman, such as last night. Which is not to say it’s all the same—far from it. In fact, it’s the little details that make each experience stand-out, those that cross your pleasure-worn consciousness only briefly, but consolidate as an integral part of the event in memory: the cold sensation of the metal against your skin; the soap tickling the stubble on your chin; that your partner maintains eye contact for almost the entirety of your tryst.
“Ahh… Mmm… Unh…” Ren makes halting cries as you both near your limits. A shudder runs through her body, and then through yours, as you press her hard up against the wall, standing on the tips of your toes.
“Max!”
You almost forget your own orgasm as you revel in the wonderful sound of your name called out by your partner, your partner breathing heavily and looking deeply into your eyes, with no thought or intention behind them; just looking at you, out of breath. Even as you become conscious that the weight of another person hanging on you and your knees buckle and you fall on your ass, Ren still wrapped around you, the eyes retain this guileless, undiscerning quality. Right up until they close when she leans forward to kiss you.
You spend a good ten minutes just sitting there, limbs entangled, resting against each other. The idea of doing something other than what’s you’re doing right then (which is nothing) only comes when Ren traces a fingertip down your spinal column.
“That… was more fun than plinking cans,” in an ironic tone. She’s resting her head on your shoulder, but you’re certain of the warm & fuzzy smile on her face.
“Hard to believe,” you play along, smiling, “But the results warrant further investigation.”
Suddenly… Police sirens! Through the bathroom loudspeaker.
“MAX ROCKATANSKY. RENKO USAMI. THIS IS POLICE COMMISIONER GORDON. I’M GIVING YOU FIVE MINUTES TO COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP AND YOUR CLOTHES ON. AFTER THAT, I CUT THE WARM WATER AND THE POWER.”
Dai’s voice if it were filtered through a forty-something year New Yorker and a bullhorn. In the light of the afterglow, it’s hard to arouse genuine antipathy for the fairy.
“THEN, WE SEND IN BATMAN.”
That doesn’t stop you from trying your best, disentangling yourself from Ren and hurling a shampoo bottle at the loudspeaker, dinging it in the side and giving the voice a vibrato quality, which the speaker promptly exploits and exaggerates.
“M-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-X. L-I-S-T-E-N T-O M-E W-H-E-N I A-M T-A-L-K-I-N-G T-O Y-O-U.”
Even Ren starts to crack up now.
Amidst giggling, you and Ren rinse yourselves off and exit the shower stall.



Dai doesn’t make a personal appearance as you and Ren towel yourselves off back in your room and change into clean clothes, but for you at least the implication is obvious: Time to go to the shrine. Ren doesn’t say anything as she steps into an outfit identical to the one she was wearing yesterday, making you wonder whether she’s planning on accompanying you or not.

[ ] Tell Ren you have something to do, so you’ll meet up with her later...
- [ ] At the diner.
- [ ] At her room.
- [ ] At your room.
[ ] Tell Ren you have to see Mary and Daiyousei about the project you needed the document for, and…
- [ ] Ask her to accompany you. This involves her now, right?
- [ ] Tell her she needs to go meet with her gang; you don’t want any rumors to start spreading about the two of you.
[ ] Blow it off. Write-in.
>> No. 77742
[x] Tell Ren you have to see Mary and Daiyousei about the project you needed the document for, and…
- [x] Ask her to accompany you. This involves her now, right?
>> No. 77751
[x] Tell Ren you have to see Mary and Daiyousei about the project you needed the document for, and…
- [x] Ask her to accompany you. This involves her now, right?

Oh Dai.
>> No. 77766
>Oh right, Ren is comforting you. Lucky thing she can’t see your face, now that you’re frothing at the mouth like a drug fiend whose main turn-ons are sharp objects, Psycho, and staying up all night. You need to regain the appropriate amount of gravity in your voice, so try to think of something sad, like Bambi’s mother getting shot—oh no wait that’s too sad.
>“Oh Max, don’t cry! Things aren’t that bad! You’re stronger than this!”
>“I’m not crying!” She only wanted to find a patch of grass to feed her child, and you killed her for it, you bastards.

Magnificent.
>> No. 77777
[x] Tell Ren you have to see Mary and Daiyousei about the project you needed the document for, and…
- [x] Ask her to accompany you. This involves her now, right?
>> No. 77778
File 123680413077.jpg - (214.63KB , 1264x848 , Tang.jpg ) [iqdb]
77778
>>77777

Lucky winner! You recieve a lifetime supply of Tang!
>> No. 77781
>>77778
Fuck, I want Tang.
>> No. 77787
[x] Tell Ren you have to see Mary and Daiyousei about the project you needed the document for, and…
- [x] Ask her to accompany you. This involves her now, right?

Oh god, I laughed pretty hard at so many parts of this update. Perfect thing to wake up to is always a piece of writing that pulls off all the elements of writing you enjoy as they should be.
>> No. 77788
>>77777

Should've been a Hina-get...
>> No. 77790
[x] Tell Ren you have to see Mary and Daiyousei about the project you needed the document for, and…
- [x] Ask her to accompany you. This involves her now, right?
>> No. 77791
Awesome, except that... Soap is a very poor lubricant, to put it simply. Oh well.

[X] Tell Ren you have to see Mary and Daiyousei about the project you needed the document for, and…
- [X] Ask her to accompany you. This involves her now, right?
>> No. 77840
>>77791

Soap becomes less effective a lubricant the longer it maintains contact with the skin. Lucky for them, this was a only quickie.
>> No. 77862
File 12368701672.jpg - (120.57KB , 670x764 , Daiyousei4.jpg ) [iqdb]
77862
As you try to formulate an appropriate phrasing for asking her to mediate between her one-time love interest and the interests of her present-time lover, you note Ren's outfit actually isn't at all the same as yesterday’s. It's still monochrome, but definitely more adult: You watch the girl as she slips on the sheer black stockings, under a shorter skirt than yesterday, a shiny black patent leather that matches her low-heeled pumps. A more fitted dress shirt, with the sleeves folded up to her elbows to hold her cigarettes (no breast pocket). Her tie and suspenders are the expected black, but on closer inspection the tie is quite remarkable, made out of what looks like knitted chenille rather than woven silk. Looking very smart with the fedora, but she's still missing something.
"Go on ahead. I left my jacket in my room. Feel naked without it."
"Ren, I haven't asked you to come with me, nor have I yet told you where I was going."
"After the waterworks you gave me this morning, you think I'm just gonna throw you to the wolves now?"
"That was Bambi-related!"
Ren rolls her eyes. "Yeah, sure. I was going to follow you anyway and shake Mary down for the relevant bits afterward, so let's just save each other the trouble and do this civil-like. Fuck, the lighter's in my jacket too—I'll be right behind you." She leaves the room without allowing for any further discussion on the matter.
Nothing else for it, you slip on your work boots, grab the tattered bundle of papers labeled "Wasteland Survival Guide", and step out into the hallway.



Passing through the Old Quarter, you look down at your Pip-Boy for the time, and are greeted by the face of your mischievous benefactor, holding up text signs for you glance at, nod, or shake your head as you weave in between throngs of old people that congregate near the shrine room: Things like "WAS IT GOOD?" and "DO YOU THINK WE COULD SELL THE VIDEOS?" and of course "SO SHE WASN'T A DYKE AFTER ALL?"
You hiss under your breath, as you enter a clearing in the bustling foot traffic, the door to the shrine cavern nearing, "We really need to get you your own body, so you can stop trying to live through my testicles vicariously."
Dai's patronizing voice starts playing audibly the moment you cross the cavern threshold: "Mother is just making sure that her boy is growing up healthfully~"
"You're not my mother," you retort coldly. "I thought we went through this already?"
She springs back immediately with a mockingly loud whisper, "I know how you tend to say hurtful things to others when you're embarrassed, because being seen as an asshole is so much more comfortable than being seen as fragile."
You stop in your tracks, half-way between portal and shrine, sunlamps blazing with full intensity. "Shut up."
"...But you know, there are two different ways people respond to the sign of weakness in others. Displays like the quaking outrage and gnashing of teeth you're performing right now, for example." The fairy punctuates her descriptions with cartoonish exaggerations of the same expressions you suppose you're currently wearing. You can feel the sweat beading on your forehead under the intensity of the lights and the weight of your own anger.
"Two dispositions: One may feel contempt, or, one may feel compassion. The former is a terrible thing to be the subject of, no doubt, and you could fill libraries with the lamentations of those who live their lives suffering under its yoke, but to be without the latter is the even greater tragedy; its sufferers are never found fit to enter the history books. If you're not loved, faults included, you may as well haven't lived any life at all."
You don't respond immediately to this, not expecting the jump from trading barbs to waxing philosophical. "What exactly is it that you're driving at here?"
"Simple: You're cute when you're angry. And you're cute when you're embarrassed. And you're cute when you're sad, confused, fussy, sleeping, eating..."
"So what you're telling me in this extremely roundabout way is... I'm loved?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Despite all my faults and insecurities?"
"Nuh-uh. Because of."
"Well, that's... quite... um." What do you say to someone who tells you that they love you unconditionally?
"Feels good man?"
Shaking you head and shrugging at once, uncertainly, "Feels good man."
The silver-tongued, ingratiating little imp.
>> No. 77863
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77863
Creaking presswood underfoot as you stand before the closed door to the shrine-shack.
“Is she up?” You rap on the sliding cellophane-panel door, expecting a prompt reply.
“Dunno.”
“What?”
“Like I said, dunno. There’s no cameras or microphones in this area, I told you.”
“How do you normally communicate with Mary then?”
“Pip-Boy. But that requires a sealing, and I can’t be in more than one place at the same time.”
“Well, whatever. It’s eight-ish. She’s usually up by now, right?”
Dai opens her mouth but stays silent, as if the answer died on her lips the moment she opened them.
You sigh. “That means I’ll just have to wake her up, won’t I?”
You slide open the door. Mary is present and sleeping, as expected. Wearing only an oversized white dress shirt, collapsed over the kotatsu, her fingers wrapped around a rocks glass. There’s an empty bottle of Wild Turkey tipped over on the floor; her Pip-Boy is broadcasting swing tunes fuzzily. Not as expected. Mary, what have they done to you?
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter.
“Heyyyyy. This is sacred ground. Don’t take a god’s name in vain.” Mary rattles out slowly, her voice like wind through a dried corn husk. You can’t see her face obscured by her messy blond locks, but she probably doesn’t look much better than she sounds.
You slap the Survival Guide down on the table near her, to which she reacts by grasping. Searching the many cupboards, you find a trash bin to throw the empty bourbon bottle into.
“Th’ hell is this? Where are my donations?” Mary drops the document on the table unceremoniously, and once you take the glass out of her other hand, raises it, waiting for her ‘donations’. “Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding…”
You just shake your head at the sight, reaching your hand into your pocket for some kind of gift: The switch-comb? That’ll do. Mary wraps her fingers around it, exploring its shape for a moment, then dropping it as unceremoniously as she did the document. This second rejection seems to have done something to rouse her, as her hand changes into a certain one-fingered gesture.
“Don’t fuck with me, Ren. You know the deal, chems or you’re not getting any, Usam—“
Her bleary eyes fix on you, finally, and her frustrated expression melts into a horrified grimace. Then she turns back to the table and hits her head against it a few times.
You look at the Pip-Fairy for council, but she has her lips pursed and is staring at you, the odd expression implying she’s in the same boat as you.
You’re saved from having to decide how to act by the door sliding open, and closed again. Renko, in her jacket now, fingers clutching a brown paper bag and looking down at Mary with a very somber expression. Mary stops self-inflicting cranial trauma at the sound of the new entry, but she doesn’t look up at anyone. Ren takes a big breath, shuddering, and walks forward to drop the bag near Mary’s hands, whom immediately takes it, tears it open with shaking hands, and opening the foil packaging with her teeth, proceeds to chew and swallow half a dozen of the tablets. Only then does Mary allow herself the luxury of weeping. Ren’s visage is completely dark, transfixed on the woman huddled over the table at her feet. Dai just watches you pensively. You think you can feel bile rising in the back of your throat. Contempt or compassion? And for whom?

[ ] Leave.
- [ ] “Mary, I can’t help you anymore.”
- [ ] “Renko, I’m very angry with you right now.”
- [ ] Don’t say anything.
[ ] Stay.
- [ ] Tell Ren to go—doesn’t matter where. You’ll talk to her later.
- [ ] Ignore the pink elephant in the room; start discussing your plans with Dai.
- [ ] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
- [ ] Ask Ren to clarify as to the exact nature of these transactions with Mary.
- [ ] Write-in.
>> No. 77865
[x] Stay
- [x] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.

She's still our friend and she needs help.
>> No. 77873
[x] Stay
- [x] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
>> No. 77874
[x] Stay
- [x] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
>> No. 77878
- [ ] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
>> No. 77895
[x] Stay.
- [x] Silently let the shame build between them.
- [x] Angry table flip optional.

No words. No babying. Arms crossed. Only crushing guilt for the two of em. Leaving the room would grant undeserved relief.
>> No. 77896
[X]Stay
- [ ] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
- [ ] Ask Ren to clarify as to the exact nature of these transactions with Mary.
>> No. 77897
[x] Stay
- [x] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
>> No. 77904
[X]Stay
- [X] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
- [X] Ask Ren to clarify as to the exact nature of these transactions with Mary.
>> No. 77908
>>77904

Actually yeah, bringing up the exact nature of these transactions would be helpful as part of the intervention process. That and we also have some trump cards against Ren if we really have to use them to stop her, though we shouldn't have to. I'm not sure if she's doing this because she herself isn't strong enough to be there to help Mary break the habit, nor can she really try that hard either if she wants to maintain her appearance, or if it is something else entirely, but given some of the things we found detailing her feelings for Mary, I don't think she's enjoying this too much so getting both of these at once would be for the best.

[x] Stay
- [x] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
- [x] Ask Ren to clarify as to the exact nature of these transactions with Mary.
>> No. 77963
[x] Stay
- [x] Screw the meeting. Mary needs an intervention.
- [x] Ask Ren to clarify as to the exact nature of these transactions with Mary.
>> No. 78009
File 123696544314.jpg - (792.93KB , 972x668 , Renko Mary Creepy.jpg ) [iqdb]
78009
“Dai, looks like we’re going to put that finding-you-a-body thing off for another day,” you examine the glass Mary just had in her hand against the single, bare light bulb hanging from the shrine ceiling. Yes, this will serve as an excuse to avert your eyes for the moment; as you’ve said it before, you can’t bear to see Mary cry.
“Yeah,” she replies meekly.
That bottle of bourbon was empty, but you know someone as fashionably alcoholic as Mary must stock a full bar somewhere. You crouch down to the cupboards she served you “tea” from yesterday: Yes, indeed, an array of mixers, liqueurs, glasses, garnishes, syrups, almost as impressively colorful as Renko’s drug collection, but what really puts it into the realm of opulence is the “refrigeration” seals on some of the bottles and jars, which by touch seem to be adjusted to specific temperatures. But you’re not here to have fun, tempting as the umbrellas and crazy straws are; no, you’re here because you need a drink. That bottle of Christian Brothers will do handily, though you almost drop it when Mary sobs audibly.
The rest of the room is completely silent, the only sounds made are the cork, the splash of two fingers of brandy hitting the bottom of the glass, and the cracking of ice cubes then introduced. You look back at the others: Mary is probably drunk already, but she’s stopped crying and hitting her head against the table. Ren just continues to stare at Mary, her disgusted sneer betrayed completely by the two wet lines down her own cheeks. Mary is used to punishment, she’ll take anything you or Ren can throw at her, and just keep sitting there. Ren, however, is a flight risk. If things start to get dicey she might just bail, and her cadre of cronies would be more than happy to make your and Mary’s lives that much harder. She’d keep Mary, since she’d remain her supplier. The only thing she stands to lose by walking away is you, and while you’d like to believe that means more to her than her own pride, the most vicious and bitter part of you raises its niggling voice in objection. Yes, this is a sticky wicket, as Ren might say, were she in better humor.
You will appear calm and collected, only Dai having witnessed just how much this hurts you. You will be the voice of reason, though anger threatens to crush your windpipe and dread tightens around your gut like a vice. You must frame this in a manner that minimizes Ren’s sense of culpability and replaces it with duty. You must rehabilitate Mary’s character and sense of self-worth while affirming that she indeed leads a self-destructive lifestyle. Taking a glance at your Pip-Boy, a very serious Dai just looks you in the eyes, waiting for you to do something. Okay.
You walk toward the kotatsu, Ren notices your movement, you nod in the direction of the seat across from Mary, taking a seat yourself, to which she quickly follows suit. Good. Not sitting across from Renko is good because it puts you in a position inherently less hostile, affirming to both her and Mary that the source of their troubles is in front of them, with you, and Daiyousei, on the side as the mediator. Taking a sip from your glass, you look toward Mary, staring downward.
“Helped myself to you liquor cabinet. Hope you don’t mind.”
The dumb joke isn’t meant to break the ice at all, but rather a display to Ren that you’re emotionally disaffected. You don’t get a response, so you glance back at Ren and shrug, as if you didn’t know how to proceed yourself. She just licks her lips nervously, which you take as a sign to continue, which you do, words paced and deliberate.
“Of course you wouldn’t. You’ve always been a charitable sort, Mary, going to lengths to not burden others with your own problems, no matter how much it hurts to keep silent. And your hard work and stick-to-itiveness has produced results: You are a pillar of the Vault community, barely out of the second decade of your life. However, as you know very well, a position of esteem is also one of responsibility and propriety. A public life leaves little room for the indiscretions that others of your young age would be allowed. Therefore, there is a tendency to keep mum, even when help is needed, which result in future indiscretions in order to keep earlier ones secret, a snowball effect.
“Even though you did your best to deal with your problems on your own, eventually your friends,” and you glare at Renko as you say this, who winces as if struck, “Notice that you are hurting, but because of your intentional detachment, they feel that their help is unwanted or unnecessary in one case, or in another, are driven to desperate extremes in order to keep from losing you completely, even if said extremes actually facilitate your continued suffering.”
You pause, taking stock of everyone: Ren is looking away, chewing on a fingernail. Dai has her eyes closed, neutral. Mary has raised her head a bit, but she still doesn’t match your gaze. You can’t do anything if she stays clammed up. Platitudes and reassurances would be mute in the face of the self-accusations running through her head. Physical contact in the circumstances may bring up frightening memories. Maybe you can cajole her into reacting? It’s worth a shot.
Mary has enough self-control (or is behaviorally inhibited enough) to not stop you as you slide the torn paper bag across the table surface, nor does she give more than a glare at you as you look through the packaging.
“I didn’t know they came in so many flavors. Original Mint. Orange-Aid. Grape Genius. Neuro-Lemon. I know what the mint ones taste like, let’s see about the orange…”
You unwrap the foil-and-blister-packed tablets. Emptying the whole sheet, collecting sixteen tablets into your palm. You definitely have Mary’s attention now, as she stares in disbelief as you pop them all in your mouth, chewing them up, considering their taste carefully, and then washing them down with a sip of brandy.
“Nope,” you shake your head as if disconfirming something and get to work on opening another package. “These are the grape ones.”
Mary starts shaking her head as you count up again to sixteen. “Stop.”
After a pause, as if considering her words, you don’t. Sixteen more crushed tablets down your throat. “Nope.” You reach for another box, looking over the packaging and muttering to yourself.
“Max, stop it.” Mary is giving you an angry look now. Renko is speechless, mouth agape.
“Lemon.” Chew. Chew. Chew. Sip. Swallow. “Nope.”
“Really, Max. Stop it. It’s not funny now.”
“Berry. Err, sorry. Brain-Berry.”
Mary stands up as you get start on emptying the fourth package. “Max—“
“Ren, could you restrain her for me?”
“You’re going along with this, Ren? It’s sick!”
Ren gives you a long and nervous look, but after meeting her with your own serious gaze, she shrugs and complies, easily holding Mary arms against her back, and forcing her to sit in her lap (with no small amount of relish, doubtless), though Mary struggles when you start chewing the next handful.
“Nope.”
“What are you trying to do, Max? Kill yourself? Show me just how ‘dangerous’ chems can be? Give me a fucking break!”
Fifth box. “Another lemon. I think I like these the best.”
“You hypocritical fuck—!”
Chew. Chew. Chew. Sip. Swallow.
“Still nadda. Oh, wait! Wait…!”
You thump your chest. Mary stops struggling against Ren momentarily.
“Nope. Just agita. Ugh.” Glancing down at Dai, her expression is one of curiosity, even amusement.


>> No. 78010
File 123696564054.jpg - (85.37KB , 500x333 , mentats.jpg ) [iqdb]
78010
You go through all eight packages, saving the disgusting mint ones for last. Near the end, Mary and Ren are just staring, not even making an attempt to stop you. In fact, you note that Ren is hugging Mary around the waist, and Mary’s hands grasp at the hem of her nightshirt.
“I thought maybe I had something going on by the second box, but no matter how many different ways I stack them, there’s still only a total of eight boxes. Powers of two: 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512, 1024, 2084—err, no. Pi equals 3.14… something. I can’t see sound, or smell touch. Ren, think of a color. Is it purple?”
“Red.”
You sigh. “I don’t feel mentally enhanced or heightened; in fact, I feel stupider if anything. Nor do I have any sudden cravings for citrus-flavored chalk.”
“So, what’re you’re saying is…?” Ren asks, confused. And Mary, well, she just looks offended.
“Sugar pill?” Mary practically spits the two words.
“Placebos.” You shrug.
Your Pip-Boy punctuates your answer with the recording of a slide-whistle. God bless you, Dai.
Ren chuckles nervously, letting go of Mary to take her cigarettes from her pocket. “Swings and roundabouts, I gotta say, I’m downright per—ow! Fuck!”
Mary stands up red-faced with rancor, elbowing Ren in the jaw, and giving you a nice view of her strawberry patterned underwear.
“Dai!”
You’d point and laugh at her childish taste in undergarments, but the electricity crackling in her hand gives you pause. She’s not threatening you, but that’s not as relieving as it could be, given that who she is threaten is presently attached to your arm. The recovering Renko stops muttering and scrambles out of the way when she notices the lightning.
You attempt to stand up to talk her down, “Now, now… now.” Wait, you only meant to say that twice. Now, now. “Now, now-now?” Again. And why are you so dizzy?
“Max, are you okay-okay?” There it is again, with Mary this time, who seems to have dropped the concentration on her spell. So why can you still hear electricity crackling? You look down at Dai, hoping for some assurance, but she isn’t focusing on you; instead you can vaguely hear her barking orders, too fuzzy to make out.
Idly, as your other senses fade to white, the echoes reminds you of song lyrics.
Where do the children play-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay~?
Cat Stevens! Risen from the dead! Ready to purge the infidels in the name of Allah with naught but a mellotron and an out-of-tune guitar! The coming war will be fought not with bombs, but with twang!


>> No. 78011
File 123696598861.jpg - (40.70KB , 550x766 , Yue1.jpg ) [iqdb]
78011
You grimace as the rabbit nurse removes your catheter. God, did she just smirk? You give her an extra-dirty look once her back is turned. Your experiences with rabbits have led you to two conclusions: 1) they’re horrible teases (that tail), and 2) they’re somehow genetically suited to a profession that delights in humiliation of others. Here you’re strapped to half-a-dozen winking-blinking machines that in all likelihood provide no more information than the Pip-Boy at your arm, and which somehow seem to spool an endless amount of ticker tape, IVs in both arms, a medical wristband, listing the myriad of allergies you do not have and—wait, are you handcuffed? You can’t even reach the call button to scream at anyone. Maybe with your left—oh right, Dai. She’s not on the display, and you don’t think she would abandon you on your deathbed, but, then again, she’s flakey, even for a fairy.
“Dai? You there?” You whisper, before realizing no one is around and speak in your normal voice, “Daiyousei?”
You smack the bevel against the aluminum support bar.
“Y-O-U H-A-V-E T-O S-T-O-P D-O-I-N-G T-H-A-T.” She reveals herself.
“You want to tell me what happened?”
Dai affects a thoughtful look before responding: “Well I'm a highly sophisticated AI, Max, and I've got to tell you, the way you were acting all stumbly-mumbly, non-responsive, and hyperthermic, well… it just wasn't normal. I knew something was causing this change. To be honest, my first guess would’ve been a failure in humeral homeostasis. Specifically, a leftward shift about the melancholic-choleric axis.”
“Okay, so I wake up in the ICU, handcuffed to a bed, and you’re being bitchy to me? That is all kinds of bullshit!”
The fairy rolls her eyes and responds with a sign: KEEP IT DOWN.
”Bush-league, Dai! Bush-league!”
A pinch on your shoulder.
“Ow! The hell?”
You turn to face that rabbit nurse from before. And she’s holding a syringe.
“Mr. Rockatansky?”
You feel calmer. Wait, her hair is brown, but ears are white? Mutants are weird, man. Even though she has good height for a rabbit, her lab coat is still man-sized, making her look juvenile. The stuffed bear peeking out the pocket of her coat doesn’t help in that regard, either. Wow, you feel a lot calmer.
“Yes, uh, nurse… Yue?” You ask attempting to read her name tag against the bright light and stars.
She gives you a strained smile, “Doctor Yue Inaba, Mr. Rockatansky. I just gave you another 4 mg of lorazepam. It won’t stop the hallucinations, but it should make them a little less terrifying.”
“But…” The face of your Pip-Boy tells you that the time is now 3:02 PM. You’re about to tell her the time, until you remember why it was you had looked at it.
“Informed consent is the standard of care here in Vault ⑨, which is why I’m going to tell you what brought you in here, even if said description is useless to someone who doesn’t practice medicine, and allowing that you may just forget this conversation entirely.”
Well, any answers are good. You nod dumbly.
She reads off a chart: “9:15 AM. You were brought to the infirmary, by one Miss Renko Usami, who reported that you had ingested a large amount of chewable tablets of unknown make, over the period of a half-hour. According to her, you had become delirious and then fainted.”
“Thought they were Mentats. Tasted like Mentats. Didn’t feel like Mentats.”
She studies your expression as if trying to determine the veracity of your statement, and then makes a modification to the chart with a pen.
“Toxicology confirmed the absence of common recreational ‘chems’ in your system, with the exception of a moderate amount of synth- and non-synth alcohol—however you managed that,” she glances at you as she makes the aside, “As well as low levels of nicotine, indicative of you being either a quitting smoker or being exposed to excessive amounts of second-hand smoke.”
“Ren smokes.”
“Partner: Usami, Renko. Smoker.” She mutters as she scribbles, before returning to her description. “9:25 AM. You were admitted to intensive care after your temperature was found in excess of 102.2°F. Acting under the suspicion of poisoning, gastric lavage was performed and activated charcoal was administered. Immunology ruled out pathogen-related fever. Evaporative cooling measures were taken. 9:40. Blood pH indicated metabolic acidosis, which was corrected by infusions of bicarbonate. By 10:01 temperature had stabilized, and you regained consciousness but were hallucinating floridly. Patient reported headache, tinnitus, and vertigo. Haloperidol was withheld for fear of triggering malignant hyperthermia; a sedative was used instead, along with physical restraint.” She points to your handcuffed arm with an extended pinkie.
“10:20 AM. Extensive hematology indicated presence of marked serum concentrations of salicylate, caffeine, paracetamol, lipid-soluble vitamins, iron, and hormonal contraceptives. Hemodialysis was initiated. Diagnosis: Toxicosis resulting from overdose of multiple OTC medicines and nutritional supplements. 11:20. Body temperature had returned to baseline, and blood levels of the suspected toxins were within reference ranges. 11:45. Patient awakes, confused and hallucinating. Sedative administered. 12:15 PM. Sedative administered. 12:35. Sedative. Sedative. Sedative…” as she trails off, she drops your chart back at foot of the gurney. “Which brings us up to the present, Mr. Rockatansky: You’re ambulatory enough that should be able to check-out, however the hallucinations are worrying, and it’s unknown how they could relate to the rest of your presentation. So allow me to give you a choice here: Either you can 1) stay here, securely fastened to the bed for observation until the hallucinations abate, with Téodor here to keep you safe from the nasty fairies,” she takes the stuffed bear out of her pocket, holds it up, and makes its arm wave at you, which is funnier than it should be because the rabbit doctor’s expression doesn’t change in the slightest, “Or 2) you can demonstrate a remedial level of reality testing, sign a waiver, and get to go on home under your own power. Your friends are just outside.”
Well, now. On one hand you can attempt to milk the situation for emotional cachet to use against the friends who put you in this position, as well as some time alone to extract information from Dai. On the other hand, these handcuffs are starting to chafe and lime Jell-O was never one of your favorite food groups.

[ ] Téodor
[ ] Waiver
[ ] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”



Cured Mary's 'Addiction': +300 Karma

Your alignment is now GOOD. You are a VAULT GUARDIAN.

>> No. 78013
[x] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”

Half-youkai resiliance ftw! This is probably more in line with our current personality than just directly going with the waiver though.
>> No. 78015
{X} “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”
>> No. 78016
[ ] Yue
[ ] "...I'm kidding, put that catheter away."
[ ] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”
>> No. 78017
[x] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”

Feels good man.
>> No. 78018
[ ] Yue
[ ] "...I'm kidding, put that catheter away."
[ ] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”
>> No. 78019
[X] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”

Have I said how much I love this story?
>> No. 78023
> your temperature was found in excess of 102.2°F

Well, shit. How much is that in °C?

[X] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”
>> No. 78024
[X] Téodor

Too cute to pass up.
>> No. 78025
>>78023
39C.
>> No. 78026
[X] Waiver

I would vote for the lazy-pam, but I don't think bumming meds off the local medical station will help our case for Mary's intervention.
>> No. 78031
[X] Téodor


HARKER. IT'S YOU ISN'T IT.
>> No. 78032
[X] Téodor
>> No. 78051
>>78031

no, but that fucker needs to get back to work
>> No. 78057
[x] Waiver
>> No. 78071
[\!/] “You give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, and I’ll sign whatever the hell you want.”

DuRGS.
>> No. 78074
[X] Téodor

Heh, didn't expect to see Yue knocking about here.
>> No. 78089
File 123700720362.jpg - (66.97KB , 600x800 , Yue Ice.jpg ) [iqdb]
78089
As adorable as Téodor is, you feel it’s time to move on, back to the grim task of reconciling the relationships of three highly dysfunctional people and one bionic fairy. From the manner in which Dr. Yue is ushering you out of here, despite you currently “hallucinating”, your presence has been taxing on her patience, and you’re afraid that if that smile gets any more strained, she’ll tear a facial tendon. Still, you may be able to use this to your advantage, given the she seems to have no hesitance at medicating.
“Tell you what, you give me another 4 mg of that lazy-pam, I’ll sign whatever the hell you want me to.”
The rabbit stares at you a moment, and you think maybe you see her ear twitch, then she goes back over to the chart. “Note: Patient engages in drug-seeking behavior—“
“In fact, I’m feeling less calm with every m-m-m-minute!” You start shaking exaggeratedly, pulling the cords out of the machines your handcuffed hand can reach, causing the EKG machine to flat-line with that distinctive beeeeeeeep; from the open door to the corridor, you can see the reflections of a blue siren light, along with an electronic voice that sounds suspiciously similar to Dai, repeating, “Code Blue.”
The doctor looks up to the heavens with a face that demands to know why this fate was thrust upon her and not someone who was uglier. She walks over to turn off the machine, stopping the voice, and the siren, and the beep, and then raps you hard on the head with her clipboard.
“Ow!”
Tell you what, Mr. Rockatansky,” she mimics your earlier words with a teeth-grinding smile. “In my pocket—“
You point at the bear; she bats your hand away with the clipboard.
“In my other pocket,” she pulls out a lemony-looking lollipop of the other pocket and clears her throat, “I have a fentanyl lollipop, which, if you don’t what that is Mr. Rockatansky, is a powerful opiate narcotic, eighty-times more potent than morphine.”
She has your attention now. You reach up tentatively to grab it, but nimbly, she moves it just out of reach. And again. She wears the mildly amused expression of a pet owner dangling a piece of string in front of a cat. Stopping, with the thought that this little rabbit is maybe a little scary, you patiently wait for her to continue.
“Now, Mr. Rockatansky, what would you say to me giving this to you, in return for you promising me that you will never, ever be re-admitted to this practice for something as egregiously stupid as overdosing on Flintstone vitamins, Tylenol, and birth control pills?”
There’s more than exhaustion behind those words—she must think you had intended to commit suicide. Well, there’s no real way to explain it as anything else, is there?
You give your best penitent sigh. “Yes, Dr. Yue.”
“It’d be unbecoming for me to lecture you on life when you haven’t lived near as long as I have, but you have friends, Mr. Rockatansky. Friends who have been sitting terrified in the lobby for the last few hours. There is nothing more important in life than friends, and that’s as true down here in the Vaults as it ever was above ground,” her fingers idly stroke the fuzzy bear in her pocket, reminiscing, presumably.
“Sorry, Dr. Yue. I was being selfish, not thinking about how the people important to me would feel.” You cannot help but feel genuinely ashamed at the rebuke, even if you are just acting. “I can sign that waiver if you want me to.”
“Good boy.” Satisfied that she's rehabilitated this wayward youth, she gives you a real smile.
Well, shucks. Maybe rabbits aren't all that bad?



A nurse wheels you into the waiting room, sucking on a lollipop and carrying a black plastic garbage bag in your lap, containing your torn jumpsuit and the few personal effects you had on you at admission.
Mary, who has added a hakama to her shirt, is the one that rushes over and hugs you when you stand up.
“Max!”
“How ya feelin’?” Ren greets you more tepidly, probably so as not to step on Mary’s toes.
“Inspected, injected, detected, infected, neglected, and rejected… the usual,” you manage to come off coolly, you think, despite the euphoria in your mouth.
“Yeah, here I was thinkin’ you’d be the first guy in history to die from nonchalance,” Ren chews at her lip—right, the waiting room would be a nonsmoking area, wouldn’t it?
You stumble forward a bit when Mary disengages, but she and Ren catch you. “Watch out.”
“They gave me a lotta sedatives.”
“I can see that. Mary, help me walk him outta here, would ya’?”
“Where to?”
This hospital gown is a bit drafty for the halls, but honestly, you don’t really care~

[ ] The diner. You want a cake. And silly hats. And streamers.
[ ] The shrine. You’re a wreck. Ren & Mary must drink until they too are wrecks. It’s only fair.
[ ] Ren’s room. You can just balance out all those downers with a lot of uppers, right?
[ ] Your bath. Cold water and privacy would do you wonders right now.
[ ] Your room. Hey if you fell asleep now, you might die from respiratory depresZZZzzzzz…
[ ] Back to the clinic. Mary Ren You Someone needs to see a goddamn therapist, because you are not going through that shit again.

[ ] You have some specific things you want addressed in present company… (Write-in)
>> No. 78090
[ ] Your bath. Hot water and company would do you wonders right now.
>> No. 78095
[x] The diner. You want a cake. And silly hats. And streamers.

A lighthearted get-together sounds good.

>her fingers idly stroke the fuzzy bear in her pocket, reminiscing, presumably.

Awww. I'm positive Casey would be proud of the fine woman Yue has become.
>> No. 78098
[ ] Your bath. Hot water and company would do you wonders right now.
>> No. 78103
[X] The diner. You want a cake. And silly hats. And streamers.
>> No. 78105
[x] Your bath. Hot water and company would do you wonders right now.

Discussing everything in our own room after the bath, assuming we don't get distracted, would be best
>> No. 78106
[x] Your bath. Hot water and company would do you wonders right now.

Normally, I would be hesitant to take them to the bath, but I think we have enough CHA to pull it off without looking creepy/sleazy.
>> No. 78120
[X] The diner. You want a cake. And silly hats. And streamers.

After all, we can get anything we want at alice's restaurant (excepting alice).
>> No. 78124
{X} Your bath. Hot water and company would do you wonders right now.
>> No. 78125
File 123703108240.jpg - (178.96KB , 600x400 , Daiyousei - Elemental Prayer by Asa.jpg ) [iqdb]
78125
[x] Your bath. Hot water and company would do you wonders right now.

Anonymous author person?

Words cannot express how much I fucking love your story.

This is not another person saying "hey dude great story lol"

No, I mean to say that this is quite simply the best fucking piece of anything I have ever seen written on these boards, with the possible exception of RaAN.

If you give up on this story I will pay off one of the mods to give me your IP address so that I can hunt you down and re-enact Misery.

You don't want that. I don't want that. But I will do what is necessary to ensure you begin writing again. Let's make sure it never needs to come to that.

This story is great, and you are a good and great person for writing it. I don't think I'd blow you, but I would pay for all your drinks any time we went out to the bar.

Keep writing, and never lose hope.

(That last applies to ALL you writefags out there, even the ones who didn't see this.)

I need to know which your favorite Touhoes are so that I may offer up pictures of them in thanks and gratitude.
For now, have an AI.
>> No. 78126
have you considered writing professionally?
>> No. 78159
[x] The shrine. You’re a wreck. Ren & Mary must drink until they too are wrecks. It’s only fair.

sounds fun.
>> No. 78258
File 123712213177.jpg - (943.85KB , 600x800 , Ren Mary Laughter.jpg ) [iqdb]
78258
Where to? Well, it has to be somewhere private and where three friends can pick up the broken pieces of their hearts. And what better way to reforge bonds than through skinship? Heh heh heh heh!
“What are you chuckling about, Maxey? The hell did they put in you?” Ren makes an amused snort and shakes her head.
That was out loud? Well, no matter. “It’s nothing a year in the tropics wouldn’t fix;
take me to my bathroom,” you command, pointing down a hallway (which is, in hindsight, the wrong direction).
“Are you… going to be sick?” Mary asks timidly, at which Ren attempts to get as far away from you as she can without actually dropping you.
“What? No! God, no,” to which they relax visibly. Well, a little upset maybe, but that’s probably from not eating anything in a while. “It’s just that hot water and comp—“
“COLD WATER AND PRIVACY WOULD DO YOU SOME GOOD RIGHT NOW.”
Dai. Dai. Dai. Why? Why? Why?
“As I was saying—“
“COLD WATER AND PRIVACY.”
“Um, maybe we shouldn’t do this in the hallway…” Mary, if you didn’t always put appearances first, we wouldn’t have been in this situation from the start.
“Hello, I’m hallucinating, remember? It’s totally acceptable for me to be talking to people who aren’t there!”
Mary is looking at you like you said something stupid; it doesn’t feel very good.
“The bath is as safe a place as any to talk.”
Thank you, Ren. You shoot the stupid cock-blocking little monster a Bronx cheer, her now looking uncharacteristically frustrated, which you of course capitalize on.
“You’re looking awfully cross, Susan.”
She replies with a sign, expression angry or baffled or probably both: “Did you just call me ‘Susan’?”
Taking full advantage of the fact Dai can’t speak at the moment in the halls, “I know! Let’s have a sing-a-long!
“♬ Susan, Susan sitting in a sewing shop. ♫
“♬ All day long, she’d sit & sew. ♫
“♬ All day long, she’d sew & sit. ♫”

Ren just rolls her eyes. Mary however is masking a giggle; you’d put money on her joining in by the third verse.

“♬ Susan, Susan sitting in a Chevrolet. ♫
“♬ All day long she’d sit & shift. ♫
“♬ All day long she’d shift & sit. ♫”

Itchy, itchy. Why didn’t you shave today?


>> No. 78259
File 123712228085.png - (601.65KB , 1000x666 , Daiyousei Dark.png ) [iqdb]
78259
“Aaaaaagh!”

You scream as you’re roused by a torrent of cold water pouring down on you. A moment after you vainly attempt to shield yourself with your hands, the source has already been turned off. You are in total darkness. When did you fall asleep?
“C-cold!”
You’re leaning against a wall, hunched into a fetal position, teeth chattering; you and your hospital gown are soaked through and through.
“Ren? Mary?” No response. Process of elimination: God damn it, Dai.
You figure you’re sitting in the corner of a shower stall, given that you can feel the tile against your feet, and the thunder-like sound of sheet metal when you accidentally bang your head against a wall. Doesn’t hurt though, wonder why—oh, right, the lollipop. Which is no longer in your mouth? Quickly, desperately you search the tile immediately surrounding you with your hands, hoping to come across the stick or some of the shards as it might’ve fallen out of your mouth and shattered. Your fingers brush against some object that moves, but when you grasp for it, your fingers grip only the rusty teeth of the shower drain. Oh no. It's almost enough to drive you to tears. Big, hot girly tears. Actually, in comparison to the shivering you’re doing now, that sounds like a pretty good idea: It’ll warm you up in exchange for looking only slightly more pathetic.
“Oh, stop sniffling, Max.”
The light flickering on from your Pip-Boy would be a welcome sight—it confirms your assumption, you’re ‘alone’ and in your bathroom—if it weren’t for the image it displays, which makes you frown so angrily that you feel sick to your stomach. Literally sick. As in, ‘Wow, I’m really vomiting!’ (‘Dry heaving’ if you want to be pedantic; anything that was left of breakfast in your upper digestive tract had been pumped out hours ago.)
“…Ugh.” Is all you can really say to Dai right now, but you’re saying it with as much antipathy as possible.
“You probably cannot respond or maybe even think coherently just yet Max, so I’m going to take this opportunity to speak my mind about a few things. There are issues that have arisen, ones that need to be sorted out—an airing of grievances, if you will.”
No, you do not will, but the painful, unproductive contractions in your gut rob you of the breath necessary to voice an objection.
“First is the issue of your relationship with Miss Usami. Now, I am not so prudish as to object to you spreading your seed around willy-nilly, diddling every trollop and tart from here to Pasadena; you're a young, human, rather half-human male. However, the one-time friendship between you and Usami, and between her and my shrine maiden… it complicates matters unnecessarily, at least when sex is involved. I want you to stay away from her.”
The condescending tone, the cowardly attempt at preventing you from second-guessing her, the complete lack of sympathy in spite of all those pretensions about "compassion" earlier, the assumption that she has any right to tell you who you're allowed or not allowed to be intimate with, it all makes your blood boil.

[ ] "Bullshit."
[ ] "♬ Susan, Susan sitting in a shoe shine shop... ♫"
[ ] Walk out of here, or crawl if necessary.
[ ] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.
>> No. 78260
[X] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.
[X] Don't pay attention, of course. Deny everything.
>> No. 78261
[x] "♬ Susan, Susan sitting in a shoe shine shop... ♫"

~ ♪
>> No. 78262
[x] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.
[x] Don't pay attention, of course. Deny everything at first, but then correct her on some of the major flaws in her arguement, especially if she let anything slip while trying to argue back against your denials.

God damnit, we forgot about the gibbering cockblock attached to our wrist. Ah well, let her rant. Dai seems to lack a proper understanding of the male mind though, as well as how deep our friendship with Ren actually is. Not to mention that patching things up between Ren and Mary is still easily doable, and would have been closer to being accomplished had she not spoken up.
>> No. 78263
ah, this is where l33t haxx0r abilities would have come in handy. too bad.

[x] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.

No harm in yammerin'. Might even give us some new info. Won't stop us arranging a threesome in the least. We'll just have to do it away from prying cameras.
>> No. 78264
>>78263

We have the bitch with us near 24/7. Breaks are rare from the ever watchful eye of Dai. I don't think she'd sit by if she had no idea where any of three of us were.
>> No. 78265
>>78263
say, how much XP have we netted so far? How far away are we from lvl 2?
>> No. 78266
>>78264
not much she could do, really. She can't even let anyone know she's sentient.
>> No. 78267
[x] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.

>>78266

I think she's shown that there's plenty she can do.
>> No. 78268
[ ] "♬ Susan, Susan sitting in a shoe shine shop... ♫"

Keep pressing O to resist the cold water torture.
>> No. 78295
>>78267
let me rephrase: not much she could do if we stay out of her areas of influence.

there are safe zones, as past experience has shown. and once we get out of the vault she can't do jack shit.
>> No. 78299
[ ] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.
>> No. 78300
[ ] "♬ Susan, Susan sitting in a shoe shine shop... ♫"
>> No. 78333
>>78295

She's still attached to our wrist and capable of pulling off what she just did regardless of where we are
>> No. 78338
>>78333

If we ever get her a body we can tie it to a rock or something if she gets too bitchy.
>> No. 78340
>>78338

Or we could also let her experience the fun too when that happens. Not a guarantee it'll make her shut up afterwards since it might make her jealous afterwards when we use our charisma to get stuff done, but it'll at least do something.
>> No. 78466
[x] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.
[x] Don't pay attention, of course. Deny everything at first, but then correct her on some of the major flaws in her arguement, especially if she let anything slip while trying to argue back against your denials.
>> No. 78500
[x] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.
>> No. 78516
[x] You're going to be sick a while longer, looks like; let her yammer until she's satisfied.
[x] Don't pay attention, of course. Deny everything at first, but then correct her on some of the major flaws in her arguement, especially if she let anything slip while trying to argue back against your denials.
>> No. 78547
File 123723722311.png - (180.08KB , 900x900 , daiyousei shadowed.png ) [iqdb]
78547
As much as you want to tell her to fuck off, the nauseating feeling starts itself up again the moment you attempt to take in any more the shallowest of breaths. You eventually stop trying to tune her out entirely because if you miss a few responses, or let your eyes close too long, she turns the cold water back on. Instead you allow the injustice of the situation sit on the back burner, making all the necessary motions when the cues prompt you, a nod of assent, a hum of consideration, eye contact without staring, after the appropriate cues, at least doing well enough that she doesn’t turn the showers back on or threaten to. The gears that do the real critical thinking, the creative planning, the moralizing, the categorization, turn slowly, but surely, focused on your situation, the cause, your goal, and the actions you will need to take to achieve it.
First of all, this is torture. You’ve been brought from the greatest enjoyment of life you’ve ever experience to a state of profound wretchedness, in mere minutes according to your watch. You’re physically discomfited, to the say the least, sitting and shivering on a cold, wet tile floor, back against a cold, wet metal wall, wearing clothes that provided minimal insulation and modesty even before they had become sopping wet. You’re still itchy now that you think about it, and the severe nausea kicked in right after you woke up; it’s hard to blame those two on her, but then again if the nausea is from the complete lack of food in your body, her keeping you captive here is what is preventing you from rectifying it. The itching? An allergy to something, maybe the nickel in the handcuffs, or somebody’s perfume, or something they gave you at the medical center? Who knows? Irrelevant except for the fact that it compounds your suffering.
Then there’s the psychological component. You were just about to have fun with the only two friends you’ve ever had (Dai was never your friend, of course), after nearly killing yourself to bring about their reconciliation, when this frigid bitch decides you look like you’re having too much fun, and decides to give your friends the boot, telling them God knows what, and then give you private lessons on brainwashing and dehumanization, starting with counseling you against the dangers of sex, drugs, and rock & roll:
“…that was the in the Old Days, and I’m not talking about Pre-Internment, or even Pre-WWII here, I mean back in 18th century Japan. Ancient history as far as humans are concerned, and you, not only would you not have been born yet, it probably was such that you couldn’t be born back then.”
Gods, what the hell is she talking about? Does she even know?
“I hadn’t heard of a half-youkai until well after they erected the Great Border, probably a few years after the Draft of Spell Card Rules were drawn up, and Hakurei started cracking down real hard on the actual violence. Heh, youkai and humans stop thinking they have to kill each other on sight, and it ain’t too long before they start looking for uses for each others’ bodies other than as take-home dinners or war trophies, if you know what I mean. And boy if you questioned how flying under magic was possible, you simply wouldn’t believe the shit people were creating, performing, and to settle daily disputes no less.”
She’s yammering on like an old fogey. Does she have AI Alzheimer’s? Is that possible? When it’s an insane computer you’re up against, you wish you were a bit more up on your tech. Ren’s more into that stuff, might do some good to learn more about this “Rampancy” thing everyone is afraid of.
>> No. 78550
File 123723732786.png - (126.88KB , 396x343 , Daiyousei night.png ) [iqdb]
78550
“There’s no hallucinogen or video game or flight sim that could possibly compare to the marvel of colors, shapes, patterns, and sounds that are created in a spell card duel. For Gensokyo, it was a Renaissance in every meaningful way. Looking back, I guess we expected those days to last forever…. I told you, things were different, so was I, of course. Fairies were children with wings in every meaningful way; I personally was dumb as box of rocks, illiterate, monolingual—hell, I could barely speak Japanese—uncultured, and before the Spell Cards, there was absolutely no incentive to be otherwise, since fairies would be exterminated on sight by most humans.”
She’s totally lost in the nostalgia. You could probably fall asleep now; in all likelihood, she probably wouldn’t notice. At least it’s a little more interesting now.
“But who could blame them? We were interfering with their livelihood and were completely incorrigible, thieves or pests at best. Didn’t stop us from playing tricks, but it did stop us from ever getting any better at not being caught. At the time Cirno, the Overseer, I told you she my friend, well she got real interested in human food when she learned she wasn’t in danger of getting a pitchfork through the chest just for lookin’. And boy did she look, all day and all night, she’d watch the villagers—watch the Shrine Maiden even. Girl had a one track mind: When she saw a human doing something, no matter how bizarre or irrelevant it seemed to living the fairy life, she’d continue watching ‘til she understood what they were trying to do, or at least until she thought she understood; I imagine there’s still a good number of misconceptions in the girl’s head from those days. Anyways, after she’d watch one human, she’d watch other humans doing the same thing, to see how they did things different and compare, figure out the ‘strongest’ way of doing it, whatever it is.”
Oh, that’s right, she mentioned this—the reason for that bit of vandalism on the G.O.A.S.T.
“Then finally, through some sneaking, but mostly just reckless tenacity, she’d attempt to do what the human had been doing. Now, more often than not, this caused quite a ruckus, since a fairy’s clumsy imitation of playing a musical instrument, or milking a cow, or herding sheep, could be quite disruptive, as you might imagine.”
And you do imagine: ‘Dai, Dai, why does this cow have only one udder?’ You don’t laugh, but only because that might make you vomit again.
“‘Course, and it had to come someday, at least according to the infinite monkey theorem: It was just the start of planting season that year, that the farmers awoke to find that someone had tilled every last acre of human farmland in the middle of the night. Moreover when the suspect was finally found and questioned, she expected no recompense, saying she ‘did if for herself’ and was just glad to not get punished. I’ll tell you, Max, nobody chased a fairy away just for lookin’ after that.”
She smiles, smiles at you, as if she had just confided some big secret; is that how they do it, the captor attempts to develop some kind of rapport with the captive, as if they were really on the same side and wanted the same things?
“At the time when I was being dragged along with her, sort of a sidekick I guess, and she got us into twice as many scrapes as she did adventures, but the adventures we did have were so much damn fun it was well worth the price of having to save our mutual bacon that twice as many times! Wouldn’t say so much that the other fairies ostracized her—if anyone commanded anything along the lines of ‘respect’ or ‘authority’ in fairy society, it’d have been her—but it was more that they held her at a distance, because they simply couldn’t believe that they could ever do the things she was doing. I know I didn’t believe, at first, and I was closest to her, but she pounded it into your head over-and-over by example: Whatever it was, it was possible; if you only you believed, and you tried, you could do it. And I think, in the microcosm Gensokyo was at the time, it really was the case—shame the rest of the world saw it differently. For all I’ve learned since then, I’d trade it all away without a second thought, to go back to those days.”
Yes, the personal admission of faults and regrets. We’re real buddies now, Dai. How long will it be now before you throw me to the sharks?
The door slams open. How punctual. Now will it be jackbooted thugs to stomp me into paste? Some fiendishly constructed robot? Or maybe the lone assassin who also happens to be my best friend?
Max? Dai?
Second best. Close enough.
“Over her—er…” Dai’s shouts first through the Pip-Boy haltingly, then through the loudspeaker, “THE MIDDLE-MOST STALL.”
She comes through the curtain, out of breath. The bright lights are blinding but Mary’s form shields your eyes, just enough so that you can see her drawing something out of a glass bottle into a syringe. I suppose that’s the best way to go about it; minimal mess, doesn’t leave behind a lot of evidence.
“We’re going to have you fixed up in jiff, Max.”
Maybe Mary doesn’t even know what she’s doing, and Dai fooled her with some story, a terrible contracted illness that needs immediate attention. Either way, someone here is a better liar than you gave them credit for. It wouldn’t be your first mistake, but it looks like it just might be your last.
You don’t flinch when Mary flicks the tip and sticks it in your arm.
It doesn’t even sting.

Now it stings. Must have a delayed effect.
Mary and Dai are looking at you questioningly. What, are you waiting for me to keel over dead? I’m sorry that I can’t expedite the process for you; maybe you should’ve had the foresight to select a faster acting poison. Because I don’t feel anything, besides the sting, not even the itching and the nausea, anymore.

Okay, there’s something. A massive headache, painful enough that you touch the side of your head; the spot is tender. Right, you banged it against the wall earlier.
“Ow!”
Mary breathes a sigh of relief.
“Isn’t that a bit presumptuous? It only hurts because I hit my head on the wall,” you sulk.
“Oh, Max…”
“Wha—get off of me. What are you—? Don’t tickle m—ahahahaha! I demand you ceas—hahahaha! Is this Candid Camera?”


>> No. 78556
File 123723778439.jpg - (121.52KB , 931x1360 , Daiyousei apologetic.jpg ) [iqdb]
78556
“So, if I understand correctly,” you’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, in your pink, terry cloth bathrobe, talking at Ren who is leaning back precipitously far in the presswood chair, and Mary who is draped across the beanbag chair, legs kicking at the air idly, “The ‘lollipop’ that Dr. Yue gave to me was… exactly what she said it was, a powerful opiate narcotic eighty times more potent than morphine.”
Mary and Renko both nod their heads in agreement, not paying much attention to you or each other right now, absorbed in their own thing: Mary is reading a magazine and snapping bubblegum, which makes you a little annoyed; Renko is trimming her fingernails with her switchblade, which makes you a little nervous. Together, however, it’s kind of cute.
“The kind used by victims of end-stage cancer who have already become strongly tolerant to other narcotics, especially in those who cannot swallow food anymore.”
Nods, again. You’re doing your own thing too of course, trying to see how many geometric shapes your fingers can circumscribe around your mug of instant tea, with the added condition of not spilling boiling hot tea in your lap. Triangle. Rectangle. Ki—
“So, yeah.”
“—ite!” God damn it, Dai!
Looks. Oh no. That didn’t sound like a normal scream; how will you explain that you were frightened into vocalizing your own interior monologue?
“You frightened me dogg, but it’s ‘aight.” Did they buy my sudden idiomatic foray into late 20th Century, inner city black colloquialisms? Might’ve said it a bit louder than necessary. Well, they stop looking. Except for Dai. But you’re far too busy to pay any attention to her right now. Trapezoid.
“You gonna get to the part where you explain how you almost kill yourself twice in one day?”
I hate you. Circle.
“I’m building steam, laying the groundwork, framing the tale. Stop interrupting.”
She’s not interrupting, is what she mouths at you. Probably. Ellipse.
“So, without being provided documentation on the proper usage of said lollipop, I put it into my mouth, from wherein the active drug quickly reaches my central nervous system, sending me into a very pleasant, but possibly fatal, narcosis.”
“Like a Med-X overdose. If you fall asleep, you die,” Ren adds. “The retching and the itching was that too.”
“What about the paranoia… hmm?” Mary muses.
Nobody answers that one. Quadrangle.
…Wait, is she calling you a spaz? Lozenge
“Well, someone was trying to kill me; what about that doctor lady, huh?”
Ren shrugs, “Yue Inaba. The receptionist said she was off-duty when I went back over there,” Ren stops grooming long enough to fix you a questioning stare, “You want that I should rough her up?”
Being around Renko can be scary sometimes, but occasionally, you get to feel like a mafia don.
“I think I’d like to try to get the answer from her myself, first.” It could just be that she thought you were a junkie. Or maybe she thought of it as finishing what you’d already started.
Ren nods and goes back to her trimming. Rhombus.
“I saved your life!” Mary yells quite suddenly, “The naloxone injection. Just want to make sure that’s on the record.”
“I bribed the pharmacist.” Perturbed by the outburst, Ren stakes her own claim.
“I stopped him from falling asleep and dying.” And a bang-up job on that you did, Dai. MVP.
“Well, I guess we all saved my life. Except for me. Though, I did rescue Mary from a life of prostitution and placebo addiction.” Yes, now that we’ve humiliated me as much as possible, let’s so just how far thoroughly we can smear culpability around today.
Ren glances nervously at Mary, who just buries her face deeper in her magazine, “That was half-a-day ago, Max. It’s already ancient history; you’re old hat.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m ‘old hat’ and your name is ‘John’.”
“Heh heh.” Don’t laugh, fairy. You’re connected to this, too.
“What’s so funny, Dai? Who got her started on the habit? Who got her convinced she needed them?” You don’t ask, ‘Who chased away her friends?’ Because that wouldn’t be fair, and because Mary is already crying.
“Yeah. You’re right, Max. I’m not blameless. I was selfish with Mary, and while I didn’t put the Mentats in the Overseer’s drawer, something had to have been going wrong in the first place for her to feel like she needed them, and then instead of nipping the problem in the bud like a responsible guardian, I set out ‘solve the problem’ in a manner that satisfied my own ego. I had an elaborate plan to wean Mary off of them without knowing it, then reveal the truth to her afterward. I planted a cache of Mentats repackaged with junk pills by a few loyal fairies I use as my hands when I need them, right where they were to be found by Renko Usami’s Tunnel Snakes. However, I didn’t foresee the form the recompense take, nor was I prepared to admit that there was something Mary needed in her life that I couldn’t give her.”
The figure on the display loses its jaded tone gradually to static; you don’t think of what it could mean until the display starts flickering, artifacts corrupting the image’s face, glistening like tears. Is this how a machine cries?
“She didn’t cry because she was in withdrawal from fucking aspirin; she cried because she was in withdrawal from the people she cared about, and she cried because those were the only means I left available to her to relieve her own loneliness. Today, after telling him that he was as a son to me, I watched Max choke down the poisons I put there, too horrified to admit it. In the hospital again, because I was too afraid of being found out to save his life or stop him from nearly killing himself a second time. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Dai, the first thing I’m going to do when we find you a body is give you a hug.”
“Seconded. Jesus.”
“Thirding. Of course we forgive you, Daiyousei,” Mary tells her above the tears and static.


>> No. 78564
Hold on, how did we get from going to take a bath with Ren and Mary, to curling up all alone in a dark shower after having puked a lot?
>> No. 78571
File 123723842862.jpg - (522.46KB , 1008x724 , Renko Mary Tsundere.jpg ) [iqdb]
78571
It looks like the pity party is starting to wrap up, now. Mary has been sitting in your lap for the last hour or so, chatting at Ren. You’ve spent most of that time drinking and smelling her strawberry shampoo. It really is your shirt she's wearing; you can see the TCB monogram on the inside of the collar.
“…Twinkies and champagne, yeah that’s real class Mary.”
“But it says on the bottle that it’s a dessert wine, Ren.”
If somebody was going to hide a bottle of Moët & Chandon for two hundred years, why in blazes would it be a bottle of demi-sec? You shake your head, “Ren, if we had any class to begin with, we would be using champagne flutes, not drinking out of jelly jars.”
Dai decides to chimes in here, “Jelly jars are appropriate drinkware for children.” Feh.
Ren retorts before you can make your own, “We’re not children. We’re cockroaches, burrowing in the burned-out husk of the American Dream.”
“That’s almost poetic, Ren,” at which Ren scratches her nose, embarrassed. Oh, Mary, if you only knew the truth.
“The American Dream, huh? Bollocks to that.”
“Dai, don’t tell me you’re not a patriot!” You mock, as if she said something scandalous.
“You kids weren’t around before all this America stuff; I was. Hell, I was around before all the Japan stuff. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve always lived in Gensokyo.”
You consider proposing a drunken rendition of the ‘Star-Spangled Banner’ but you’d have to sing above the radio tunes pumping out all three of your Pip-Boy radios.
“Yeah, well it’s getting near this kid’s bedtime…”
“But it’s only… oh wow it is late. Still, Ren!” Mary whines, reaching out but not willing to move from her spot of comfort. You’re not tired yourself, but there’s not really anything you could say that would make Ren stay, so you just give her an apologetic smile and a wave.
“You know what they say, three is a crowd Mary. You both enjoy your Roman holiday,” she winks at you and snickers, lighting one last cigarette for the night.
“I’m going too. I should… defragment my emotional indices… or something.” Haha, what?
“Not you too Dai!”
Mary pouts, while you look at the Pip-Fairy, who puts a finger over her lips, and brings out a sign:
FORGIVE ME?
“The hell? Max, I think somethin’ might be wrong with your door.”
Half of you aware of Mary’s weight shifting off your lap as she goes to see what the problem is, the other half aware of Buffalo Springfield on the radio. You nod at her, and your smile continues to widen at the sound of the music and Mary and Ren’s frustrations.
Dai, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.



WELCOME TO LEVEL TWO

[ ] Select a Perk (write-in only)

Show me your creativity, THP.
>> No. 78572
>>78564
lolipop we took was a weeee bit TOO strong.
>> No. 78574
[x] Chemical Man: All these chems have affected your half-youkai DNA. You're a certified mini Med-X factory and one step closer to a super-hero! You now take 10% less damage and are healed 10% more by any source.
>> No. 78575
normally I'd be inclined to say chem resistant, given what we just survived, but anonymous said we already had that.

Anonymous, can we make them up, or do we have to choose from the list?
>> No. 78576
>>78575
>Anonymous, can we make them up, or do we have to choose from the list?

By all means, feel free to make them up.
>> No. 78578
[X] Faster mana generation - allows character to draw in more mana, allowing use of more and more powerful spells more quickly.
>> No. 78580
[x] Bloody Mess

ALWAYS THE FIRST CHOICE
>> No. 78585
[X]Ability to fly.

I ain't walking trought a that barren land, no sir.
>> No. 78586
[x] Charismagic – Allows the character to utilize his Charisma rather than Intelligence when using mind affecting magic.
>> No. 78588
[X]Ability to fly.

Nice.
>> No. 78590
Actually.
[x] Magical Condom. Magically create a waterproof covering that no liquid can penetrate!

Good for bandages AND fuckin'!
>> No. 78591
[x]Ability to fly.
>> No. 78594
[x]Ability to fly.

I lack the creativity but could someone make this sound like a Fallout perk?
>> No. 78595
>>78594
"Aerial Antics"?
>> No. 78597
File 123724323895.jpg - (523.60KB , 900x658 , Mad Max Pursuit.jpg ) [iqdb]
78597
>>78585
>I ain't walking trought a that barren land, no sir.
>> No. 78599
File 123724344694.jpg - (51.34KB , 600x290 , guncar.jpg ) [iqdb]
78599
>>78597
Needs more dakka.
>> No. 78600
>>78580
[x] Bloody mess.

Come on, please take this!
>> No. 78602
Oh right, we don't need to fly. We just need a fucking awesome car.

[x] Bloody Mess
>> No. 78604
[x] Bloody Mess

Not to mention, if we can fly, but our companions can't, then that kind of puts us at limited opportunities to use it
>> No. 78610
[x] Bloody Mess

YES.
>> No. 78613
[x] Lady Killer

I've a feeling that it'll come in handy.
Haven't the foggiest as to why, however.
>> No. 78615
>>78613

Lady Killer actually was my first perk I took in every situation, but we can get it next level.
>> No. 78623
[x] Bloody Mess

This is the proper choice.
>> No. 78641
>>78564
It's called a scene transition.

I've forgotten earlier posts. Can someone link to an explanation of how magic works in this CYOA.
>> No. 78649
[Z] Lead Belly: Your Youkai DNA has reacted in a panicked way about your overdose situation and has moved to protect you from future attacks of this kind. All Chems are 50% less effective on you.
>> No. 78650
[x]Ability to fly.
>> No. 78651
>>78649
A) Not the lead belly perk
B) 25% chem effectiveness won't matter much if we down hundreds of pills/eat super lollypops.
>> No. 78652
>>78641

Magic functions as it did in Gensokyo canon, but is in general much more limited in scope and potency. Spell Card Rules no longer mean anything, though Spell Cards still exist, mostly as relics, wherein they're used as foci to cast powerful spells that have actual effects; e.g., stand to close to a Master Spark, and you risk having your face melted off. The term danmaku still refers to the nonlethal use of magic and energy-based weapons (like laser pistols, which often have a danmaku setting), and the ranks in the danmaku skill are reflective of your ability to apply danmaku metamagic to turn otherwise lethal or destructive effects into less-than-lethal ones, such as turning a face-melting Master Spark into one that simply knocks somebody out. People still use danmaku in ritualized duels, though they tend to be much less flashy and less complicated (with flight no longer being a matter of course for most Wastelanders), more mimicking a shoot-out.

There's various reasons for these changes:
1. The increasing industrialization of Pre-War Gensokyo, where some uses of magic had become supplanted by science.
2. The decimation of humanity during the War, the core source of belief, caused may faith-supported beings to either die off, or for the lucky, to develop a physiology more in keeping with physical law.
3. The near total failure of the Hakurei Border, which resulted in the physical merging of Gensokyo into what was then the State of Japan.

Magic today is less of an art, more of a science. The preservation of knowledge in the Vaults means that the average Vault human is still capable of fending off feral youkai and fairies, who are still physically stronger than humans, but with few exception can be killed through mundane means. The continued existence of magic is supported by the safeguarded faithful of Gensokyo, and presumably the fantastical places around the world that survived, as well as the Outside's relatively recent, but growing knowledge of the effects of Lunarian science, which seemed like magic in-and-of-itself, shortly before the War killed almost everyone.

>> No. 78658
[x]Ability to fly.
>> No. 78682
>>Trapezoid.

Shapes, I love this story.

[x] Bloody Mess
>> No. 78686
[X] Kama Sutra Master

You know you're going to need it.
>> No. 78692
[x] Empathy

remember this skill? the one that gives us a rough idea how people would react to what we say?
>> No. 78693
hey, let's not forget the other part of our level-up, yo! how many extra skill points do we get, and what're we gonna spend it on?
>> No. 78694
If we're bringing along support, I'd say go for pure speech to make it easier dealing with the more civil inhabitants of the wastelands. If not, then half speech, half magic would probably be best in order to give us something to defend ourselves with.
>> No. 78697
[x] Cult of Personality.
>> No. 78913
[x] Believe in me...

Max's half-youkai genes allow him to benefit from faith-support in a limited fashion, giving him increased stats when around party members who trust him deeply.

[ ] ... who believes in you.

Max's trust causes his friends to try harder, increasing party experience gained.
>> No. 78914
[x] <a vote AGAINST the stupidest choice that is still popular, whatever that might be. I never played Fallout, so I don't know quite what does what.>
>> No. 78916
>>78914

5% more damage and enemies die in the most violent way possible when we kill them
>> No. 78922
[x]Karma Sutra Master

From the fallout wiki: This Perk confers great stamina and skill when doing the dirty. Makes some characters more likely to have sex with you.
>> No. 78924
>>78922
So far, we haven't had much trouble with this.
>> No. 78932
>>78924
well Ren and Mary are easy targets. I suspect it would be necessary to unlock the Slept With Every Single Touhou achievement.
>> No. 78943
The great thing about being able to level. You can take more feats. For now, Bloody Mess is probably the best thing to take since the only thing we know we'll be facing is things that attack us. We'll eventually go on to meet other touhous between now and our next level, and at that point, getting either Lady Killer, or something based on whatever knowledge we've gained since then would be for the best. However at this point, the extra damage (assuming Bloody Mess will apply to our magic) is definitely helpful and the violent deaths will serve many purposes in both impressing and intimidating anything intelligent we encounter in the wastelands.
>> No. 78952
I think Max is more of a lover than a fighter. Why not improve his ability to stay out of fights with more intelligent beings and let Renko pop the rest? Our stats aren't very combat oriented anyway. We will probably end up tanking against most ferals due to our animal magnetism so improving our survivability should be taken as a priority. We could be a slippery bastard, taunting and running in a fight. Evasiveness sounds like something Max should be good at.
>> No. 78955
as a reference

Strength: 4
Perception: 6
Endurance: 6
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 6
Agility: 7
Luck: 5

Barter (Cha) 23
Danmaku (Agi) 17
Explosives (Per) 17
Guns (Agi) 17
Lockpick (Per) 17
Magic (Int) 32
Medicine (Int) 17
Melee (Str) 13
Outdoorsman (End) 17
Science & Repair (Int) 17
Sneak (Agi) 32
Speech (Cha) 38

What's in a Name
Requirement: Chose a name.
Maybe your namesake is someone famous, or maybe you just have a catchy nickname? Regardless of the reason, you accrue both positive and negative karma at twice the normal rate, due to increased word-of-mouth of your deeds.

Animal Magnetism
Requirement: Youkai or half-youkai
You register more highly on animal's senses, and typically provoke a more exaggerated response to your presence. Skittish animals will flee, feral domesticates will be more submissive, gregarious animals will be more tolerant of your presence, and predators... will think you taste better.
>> No. 79003
>>78952

Our magic is pretty high though so we aren't a total failure at combat. Overall, it just boils down to if people coming with us or not. It certainly loses its effectiveness if we have companions, but we still don't know if we're dragging them with us due to what them leaving might cause, more so Mary than Renko though since she plays a moderately important role for the older vault members. I do agree being a lover is more our style than a fighter though, due to Anon's nature for write-ins and, above all else, having 9 CHA, but at this point in time, making ourselves not completely suck as a fighter is also important. After all, we don't exactly know the weapon situation on the surface so the effectiveness of Ren's gun is only a certainty for as long as she still has bullets so even if she does go with us, she probably won't be able to provide full support and we'll still have to attack so that she doesn't use what she has left up until we can provide her with more ammo.
>> No. 79188
File 123743466326.jpg - (173.26KB , 500x477 , bloodymess.jpg ) [iqdb]
79188
You have gained the Bloody Mess perk!

Bloody Mess
Requirement: None.
The world turns without care for beauty or decency, and acceptance of this fact has taken the blinders off your eyes. You see clearly the often sickening and deeply physical nature of existence, without filtering out the messy particulars. Ew.
Benefit: You do 5% more damage, and injuries or deaths you witness tend to be exaggerated and overproduced.

You have 16 skill points left to distribute:
[23] Barter (Cha)
[17] Danmaku (Agi)
[17] Explosives (Per)
[17] Guns (Agi)
[17] Lockpick (Per)
[32] Magic (Int)
[17] Medicine (Int)
[13] Melee (Str)
[17] Outdoorsman (End)
[17] Science & Repair (Int)
[32] Sneak (Agi)
[38] Speech (Cha)

Note: Skills in bold are Tag skills.
>> No. 79189
[x] 12 to speech, 4 to magic

50 speech, and 36 magic. Give ourselves a nice milestone point for speech, and the rest into magic. We can put points into other areas once we get a better grasp on what lies outside.
>> No. 79191
[x] 10 to Magic, 6 to Speech,.

Our speech skill has our amazing Charisma backing it up, while our Magic skill is relying on our just above average intelligence. We should probably bump it up a bit to compensate.
>> No. 79192
[x] 10 to Magic, 6 to Speech.
>> No. 79193
[x] 10 to Magic, 6 to Speech,.
>> No. 79195
>>79191

All our 3 extra points in Cha gets us is 6 points into speech. The benefits of attributes to skills is linear after all. The more you're going to rely on a skill, the more important it is to get it higher, faster. That does a lot more than attributes will.
>> No. 79199
So... basically we just learned the whole Fist of the North Star thing: poke poke poke poke poke HOLY SHIT THEIR HEADS EXPLODED (Bruce Lee cries optional.)

...Well, at least it's a situationally-appropriate setting; post-nuclear-apocalypse, and all.
>> No. 79200
Oh, and
[x] 10 to Magic, 6 to Speech.
>> No. 79203
>>79199
...you are shark?
>> No. 79207
[X] 6 to magic, 5 to speech, 5 to sneak

Also, am I the only one that finds it amusing that we have acquired the bloody mess perk after getting a (more multiple) girlfriend(s)?
>> No. 79208
File 123744682638.jpg - (401.30KB , 800x1133 , no_regrets.jpg ) [iqdb]
79208
>Also, am I the only one that finds it amusing that we have acquired the bloody mess perk after getting a (more multiple) girlfriend(s)?

Possibly.

>...Well, at least it's a situationally-appropriate setting; post-nuclear-apocalypse, and all.

pic related
>> No. 79225
[X] 6 to magic, 5 to speech, 5 to sneak

Oh fuck yes we're the motherfucking fist of the north star!

This will make Renko's and/or Merryberry's death all the sweeter.
>> No. 79226
[x] 10 to Magic, 6 to Speech

spread it too thin and the effect of levelling up will be almost unnoticeable.
>> No. 79418
>>79225
I think this will be horrifyingly traumatic for our poor protagonist.
>> No. 79545
I'm saddened bloody mess only makes them like that in our own eyes, rather than the deaths we cause benefitting from it
>> No. 79562
>>79545
Wait.
What?
>> No. 79563
>>79562

What part was unclear? The way it is worded, it only affects injuries or deaths we witness, which in my mind would imply that it is just something we percieve and not an actual change in the way things die to us.
>> No. 79566
>>79563

What an odd and pedantic point you raise.
>> No. 79568
File 123753642966.jpg - (291.04KB , 900x636 , RenMaryCampfire.jpg ) [iqdb]
79568
Your sleep is fitful, but familiar. You, Mary, and Renko have made your progress up the crater wall, and in a few hours will greet the morning sun for the first—and possibly last—time in your lives. There is talk of setting up a watch rotation, but everyone is too nervous to sleep anyway. Ren spends the dawn hours plotting a course on her map before the last of the stars became invisible. Mary practices her offensive magic; entire stacks of those seals she had recently learned to use hang off belts strapped around her jumpsuit in various places—definitely overkill. You’ve been tending the fire, boiling the tea from in kettle and serving it in tin cups, with a block of CalorieMate for breakfast. You feel the wind in your hair, Jet in your lungs, and Renko’s borrowed BB gun on your shoulder.

When the sun breaks over the collapsed highway, all three of you can do nothing but stare at its grandeur. Experiencing dawn is something a movie or a picture cannot do justice. Not until it clears the horizon completely do you notice the state of your companions. Ren was most affected, and is on her hands and knees, sobbing quietly. Mary is trying and failing to muster up enough mana to put out the fire with a cold spell. It takes your interruption, emptying what’s left of the tea onto the fire pit, to snap her back to reality. She mumbles a thank you and goes over to check on Renko.

You take a look at the map, comparing it to what’s around you. There are a lot of inconsistencies between it and your surroundings, which Renko has taken note of in red pencil. No, this isn’t right at all: The entrance to Vault ⑨ isn’t at the base of a valley; it’s at the bottom of a lake. You realize your position as the rising sun gives color to the iron deposits in the ground you stand on. The earth is painted scarlet.



“They say we’re young and we don’t know;
“We won’t find out until we grow.”


“Unngh.”
Agreed. You ache all over, and there’s a spot of drool on your shoulder. Well, that’s what happens when two people sleep in a bed made barely large enough for one person.

“…Well I don't know if all that's true,
“'Cause you got me, and baby I got you.”


“Ren, why’d you always set the alarm so early?” Mary whines, shifting.
“Yeah, seriously,” you grumble.
“…Max?”
Right, three people.
“Mary?” You mimic Mary.
“Good morning~!” She seems to perk up instantly.
“Uh, mornin’.”
“…this is why it would never work…” you hear Ren muttering to herself darkly.
“Babe?” you punctuate, giving Ren a shake.

“I got you babe. I got you babe…”

“Hey, lover,” she greets you with strained smile, before turning off the Pip-Boy radio and attempting to disentangle herself from the mess of limbs. She meets the most resistance from Mary, who catches her stocking-clad ankle.
“Where are you going?” She demands plaintively.
“I have to take a piss. God damn.” She shakes off Mary’s hand and opens the door to the hall, exiting without either realizing or not caring that she was only wearing her stockings.
“I thought the door was broken?” Mary’s eyes wrench shut at the sudden intrusion of light, and she tightens her clutches around you, as if Ren’s departure had left a sudden vacuum. “Clingy” is not strong enough a word for this girl. No, she is an octopus youkai.
“I guess, uh, maintenance fairies must’ve fixed it in the middle of the night?” Yeah. Sure.
Sunday morning. 6:03 AM. You’re supposed to start working tomorrow, but you have no idea what that actually means.

[ ] Go back to sleep. I’d like to be / under the sea / in an octopus’s garden~♪
[ ] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
[ ] Escape the hydra, and…
- [ ] Prepare a complete breakfast. Aprons only.
- [ ] Hit the showers. Go Team!
- [ ] Head over to Human Resources. You’re a career man.
- [ ] Track down that screwy rabbit who almost killed you.
- [ ] Srs bsns discussion time that you should’ve had yesterday.
[ ] You don’t have a day planner; how are you supposed to plan your day? Dai! Dai! Help! Help!

As far as your chuckleheaded friends are concerned, today…
[ ] Ren should check in with her Snakes, and Mary with her faithful. Keep up appearances.
[ ] With your eviction on the horizon, it’s safe to say you’ll be monopolizing their time until further notice.



Tip: You may access your Pip-Boy at any time by writing-in "[ ] Pip-Boy:" followed by the feature you wish to access. Features include AM/FM tuner, two-way short-range CB radio transmitter and tuner, GPS map, status, skill, S.P.E.C.I.A.L., inventory screens, flashlight, and audio/video recording & holodisk playback.
>> No. 79571
Wait what...? Maybe I'm missing something, but how did we go from sleeping in our room to this?
>> No. 79572
File 123753829863.jpg - (135.38KB , 1042x631 , ce8611084baaf71f7f46897d47f1787f.jpg ) [iqdb]
79572
Pardon a question,

Will Momiji/Sakuya make an appearance?

Fallout isn't fallout without a faithful doggy following you around.
>> No. 79574
>>79571
>Wait what...? Maybe I'm missing something, but how did we go from sleeping in our room to this?

dream sequence

>>79572
>Fallout isn't fallout without a faithful doggy following you around.

Are you talking about Saguya?
>> No. 79575
>>79572

As far as I recall back in thread one, YM split off and made their own group and I would assume Momi is a pretty high ranking member of that group so taking her would be pretty hard to do. Sakuya... Depends how the author does it. I would assume at this point all the human touhous are either dead, or quite old, depending on how long this takes places after the current games, and how long its been since the vaults went up, which I currently can't remember, so if Sakuya is kept as being fully human, she'd be in the same situation as Reimu, Sanae, and Marisa and in no condition to be doing anything.

>>79568

Still trying to figure out what the first part of this update is. Wonder if anything happened during the night though... We woke up with Mary and Ren in bed with us, and Ren was pretty much naked.

Ah well, might as well go forth and vote.
[x] Escape the hydra, and…
- [x] Track down that screwy rabbit who almost killed you.

Bitch owes us, and stocking up on drugs can give us a fine bartering tool on the surface if we encounter any addicts. We need to properly prepare after all, so making sure we can pacify any opposing threats is a good idea.
>> No. 79576
[ ] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
:3
>:3

[ ] Ren should check in with her Snakes, and Mary with her faithful. Keep up appearances.
>> No. 79577
>>79574

Ah, I see.
>> No. 79579
[ ] Escape the hydra, and…
- [ ] Prepare a complete breakfast. Aprons only.
[ ] Ren should check in with her Snakes, and Mary with her faithful. Keep up appearances.
>> No. 79584
[x] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
[x] With your eviction on the horizon, it’s safe to say you’ll be monopolizing their time until further notice.
>> No. 79587
Did we just have a threesome?

...

[x] Flashback to the night before.
>> No. 79600
>>79587

better yet, did we record it?
>audio/video recording & holodisk playback
>> No. 79603
[x] Escape the hydra, and…
- [x] Prepare a complete breakfast. Aprons only.

Wasn't it said near the beginning that Momizi would be taking the place of THREE DAWG?
>> No. 79605
File 12375560125.jpg - (315.38KB , 915x1152 , sayo.jpg ) [iqdb]
79605
>- O-souhei Sayo Inuhashi. White wolf tengu. Captain of the prestigious Tengu Mountain Patrol, which was a fixture of Youkai Mountain even before the War, and filled the position after its former captain, O-souhei Howlin' Mad Momizi Inubashiri, left the Nation in disgust to found GNR. He is unusually friendly to outsiders, but not so much as to go against the ways of his people.

Perhaps. It'll probably be either her or Aya. Also Sayo is love.
>> No. 79613
[x] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
[x] With your eviction on the horizon, it’s safe to say you’ll be monopolizing their time until further notice.
>> No. 79618
[x] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
[x] With your eviction on the horizon, it’s safe to say you’ll be monopolizing their time until further notice.
>> No. 79619
[x] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
[x] With your eviction on the horizon, it’s safe to say you’ll be monopolizing their time until further notice.
>> No. 79633
[+] Escape the hydra, and…
- [+] Prepare a complete breakfast. Aprons only. No Pop Tarts. Final Destination.
[+] Ren should check in with her Snakes, and Mary with her faithful. Keep up appearances.

We should wait until at least Dai--comes back from being 'away'?
>> No. 79651
[x] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
[x] With your eviction on the horizon, it’s safe to say you’ll be monopolizing their time until further notice.
>> No. 79793
File 123759423250.jpg - (544.23KB , 787x1139 , FalloutHeroMoiraJerichoDogmeatTeodor.jpg ) [iqdb]
79793
>[ ] It is too late for you; you have already been assimilated. Lie in wait for the Stargazer to return. Resistance is futile.
>[ ] With your eviction on the horizon, it’s safe to say you’ll be monopolizing their time until further notice.

‘Octo’ is eight. An octopus has eight limbs. You have four limbs. Mary has four limbs. Four and four together is eight, which means, together, you are an octopus. If Ren were added, that would be twelve limbs. ‘Dodeca’ is twelve, so together, you would be a dodecapus. There is no such thing as a dodecapus. However, sometimes people are born with extra fingers or toes, so why couldn’t an octopus be born with extra arms? Especially given exposure to an excessive amount of radiation. Hell, you might even have to fend off one or two topside. Gensokyo is a landlocked country, though. Damn.
“Mary?” You ask the grabby naked girl grinding against you.
“Mm?” She doesn’t bother to open her eyes, the most contented of smiles on her face.
“Should we be getting up?” The lights in your room, like in everyone else’s living quarters, are set on a timed dimmer, so as to mimic sunrise and sunset, normalizing residents’ circadian rhythm.
“No?” She loses her smile for a moment, shaking her head from side to side against your chest.
Right now, the dim lighting is sending your biological clock a clear message: Stay in bed; sleeping or procreation, optional.
“I agree.” And the smile returns predictably. You can’t help but brush the strands of wavy blond hair away from her face. “Should Ren be getting up?”
“Mmm…” she furrows her brow in mock concentration. “No?”
“I agree. As her concerned friends we should take steps to correct this delinquent activity.”
“What are you planning?” Mary asks, lowering her voice and opening a single, canny, purple iris to look at you.
“Nothing complex. I’ll just lure her over, and when she’s in range, four hands will reach up to drag her down to a watery grave~,” you respond with your best ‘spooky’ voice, to which Mary giggles mildly.
You escape the quadropus for a moment to reach over and grab Ren’s jacket on the floor. Searching through the pockets, you hand the lighter to Mary, who seems to intuit your meaning, because she hides it under the sheets as you drop the jacket back on the floor. You make the gesture for silence, and Mary throws the covers up over her head. Now, you wait.

And wait…

And wait…

…Okay, it’s like half past, now.
“Did she fall in the toilet?” Mary asks, taking the covers off her head. The room lights are brighter now, probably enough so that you won’t be blinded when the door opens.
You look at your Pip-Boy: 6:37 A.M.
Ren wasn’t wearing any clothes, so she couldn’t have run off, right? Or maybe she realized her state of undress, and is too embarrassed to leave the bathroom? Or she could be taking a shower, seeing as how there’s plenty of towels. You grin thinking of yesterday morning’s exploits…
‘Nice thing about the steam is that it’ll take the wrinkles out of your clothes if you hang them up here.’
Oh right. She had yesterday’s clothes in there. It’s not like Ren would go anywhere without her jacket or cigarettes, though, right? Certainly not to the normal ports of call, anyway.

[ ] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
[ ] She’s still in the bathroom…
- [ ] Take a shower yourself.
- [ ] Go back to sleep.
- [ ] Breakfast.
[ ] Doesn’t matter. You have Mary all to yourself now.
>> No. 79794
[x] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
[x] Get to work on making breakfast while she does it.
>> No. 79797
[X] She’s still in the bathroom…
- [X] Take a shower yourself.
>> No. 79799
[x] Doesn’t matter. You have Mary all to yourself now.

Mary time.
>> No. 79803
[x] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
[x] Get to work on making breakfast while she does it.
>> No. 79804
[x] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
[x] Get to work on making breakfast while she does it.
>> No. 79827
>exiting without either realizing or not caring that she was only wearing her stockings.

This CYOA is such a tease.
>> No. 79832
[ ] She’s still in the bathroom…
- [ ] Take a shower. With everyone. In the same stall.
>> No. 79834
[X] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.

Normally I would never vote this way, but I'm a bit worried she may have gotten into trouble, considering that's about the thing she's best at.
>> No. 79856
[x] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
[x] Get to work on making breakfast while she does it.
>> No. 79873
[ ] She’s still in the bathroom…
- [ ] Take a shower. With everyone. In the same stall.
>> No. 79881
[x] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
[x] Get to work on making breakfast while she does it.

There are plenty of logical things Renko could be doing, but it never hurts to be safe.
>> No. 79909
[x] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
[x] Get to work on making breakfast while she does it.
[x] Hold on, what the hell happened last night?
>> No. 79923
File 123762876819.jpg - (186.16KB , 686x480 , RenMaryDifferences.jpg ) [iqdb]
79923
>[ ] Get Daiyousei on the line. Tell her to run a search on Renko Usami.
>[ ] Get to work on making breakfast while she does it.

“Whatever it is she’s doing, it’s probably stupid.”
“Yeah~” Mary agrees pleasantly.
“We’ve got to find her.” You smack your palm with your fist, determined.
“No!” Mary attempts to reinforce her grip on you, but it’s not enough.
“Yes.” You escape her clutches, but you meet heavy resistance when you try to take the sheet with you.
“No! Leave it!” Sorry, Mary. You were just too soft. You pull the sheet off the bed and Mary with it, laughing.
“That was mean, Max.” Mary clothes herself in your bathrobe, and you’ve wrapped the sheet around you as a sort of toga. You slip on a multi-purpose lead medical apron that you use for purposes as diverse as peeling potatoes and experimenting with overloading the magnetron inside the Radarange.
“You knew what this was, Han,” dropping your voice a few skeevy octaves.
“Yeah, yeah, we all know your reputation, Mr. Rockatansky—a real heartbreaker,” she jokes along, sauntering over to the kitchen unit beside you, where you’re busy preparing breakfast for (hopefully) three people. “Can I help?” she asks.
“You know how to use a percolator, right?”
“Sure do.”
“Coffee’s right over your head, in the cabinet.”
So…?” She opens the cabinet, withdrawing a large tin of Chock Full O’ Nuts. ‘About last night,’ is what she’s getting at.
You can feel her eyeing you, but you’re busy cracking eggs on the rim of the frying pan to pay attention to her insinuations. “So? Coffee won’t brew itself, dearest.”
She grumbles. “Bleh on you, Max. I’m going back to bed.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Oh, and why is that?” she asks coyly.
“No, because then you’ll miss breakfast.
“Bleh.” She starts back toward the bed.
“You’ll also miss the astro-screwdrivers.”
Stop. “Astro-screwdrivers?”
“Also known as the fuzzy cosmonaut. A screwdriver, but with Tang instead of orange juice.”
“I get it! Breakfast of inebriated astronauts!” Mary your weaknesses are as endearing as they are easily exploited. She gets busy again with the coffee.
“I would’ve preferred space mimosas but we finished off all that champagne last night.”
“Speaking of last night…” Mary states in a voice far louder than necessary.
“I had a lot of fun. You had a lot of fun. Ren had a lot of fun. What more needs to be said?”
“Yeah, but, look Max, I really…”
“But what? Now I have to choose one of my friends over the other, is that it?” You’re starting to get ticked off, and Mary winces as you start slamming cabinets and drawers.
“No,” she replies sullenly.
“She loves you, you know. Deeply. She always has.”
“But I love you, Max!” Her protests are desperate and there are hot tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and yet, brushing aside the affections of an important friend as if they meant nothing—it just leaves you cold, and so you turn away from her.
“I love you too, Mary, but I won’t break that girl’s heart, even if it means hardening my own.” You grip the countertop, perhaps weighed down by gravity of your words.
“Well, I guess this is fair,” she huffs, “Now all three of us get to feel like the third wheel.”
“Yes, but you are riding on a tricycle!”
You look at the Pip-Boy. Yes, it’s Dai, riding around on a comically undersized tricycle. She squeezes the horn twice: “Honk~! Honk~!”
“Dai, where is Ren?”
“Hmm…? Ren…? Ren, Ren... Right! Short for Renko. Renko…. Usagi? Usamimi? I’m drawing a blank here.”
“Renko Usami, Dai. Where?”
“Well… I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but I did see the little moron running off to the med center with a handgun in her pocket!”
What. The. Fuck. Dai.

[ ] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [ ] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.
- [ ] Just throw on your normal jumpsuit. Wouldn’t want to run into one of her Snakes and have them misunderstand.
- [ ] There's no time! Toga! Toga! Toga!
[ ] Well, it’s not like Ren has ever killed anyone. That you know of. Finish breakfast, take a shower, get dressed, then track her down and perform damage control if necessary.
>> No. 79924
[ ] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [ ] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.

oh hell.
>> No. 79925
[x] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [x] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.

Yeah... It's a good thing we got up
>> No. 79926
- [ ] There's no time! Toga! Toga! Toga!
>> No. 79927
>“I had a lot of fun. You had a lot of fun. Ren had a lot of fun. What more needs to be said?”

wait, you mean to tell me there was a threesome but it was just glossed over?
>> No. 79928
Seems that way. Means my friend's initial judgement was correct. We woke up in bed with Mary and Renko both naked, and we had fun. There's little else one could do in this sort of situation.
>> No. 79930
[x] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [x] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.
>> No. 79934
[x] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [x] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.
- [x] "Dai, do you know where exactly the nurse is? And don't play dumb, you know damn well which nurse I'm talking about! And does Ren know?"
>> No. 79935
[x] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [x] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.
>> No. 79947
File 123764964160.jpg - (97.20KB , 300x400 , reimu_rabbitstew2.jpg ) [iqdb]
79947
[+] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [+] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.

Rabbit stew, the food of starving champion miko everywhere.
>> No. 79965
[x] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [x] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.
- [x] "Dai, do you know where exactly the nurse is? And don't play dumb, you know damn well which nurse I'm talking about! And does Ren know?"

Oh dear, Yue may be in a pinch with no dapper young man as backup.
>> No. 79982
[x] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
- [x] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.
- [x] "Dai, do you know where exactly the nurse is? And don't play dumb, you know damn well which nurse I'm talking about! And does Ren know?"
>> No. 80004
Just a thought... Maybe we shouldn't witness whats happenin with Ren. Y'know... with our new perk and all. I already voted to run over but I'm just sayin. Hopefully Yue will be alive for us to interrogate her by threating her with her own lollipop.

"Betcha thought that was REAL FUCKING FUNNY, huh? Funny bunny! FUNNY! FUNNY! FUNNY!"
"Well I got a funny story for ya! It's about the little rabbit who flew to the moon! Flew SOOOO HIGH~! S'matter? Why so serious?"
"Or maybe you got a story for me?"

Hope she doesn't watch many movies.
>> No. 80055
>>79934 here. Was rereading and realized Yue is a doctor. Eh, have Dai point it out and be a nuisance (something about rabbit prejudice) or amend my vote.
>> No. 80076
>>80055

Or you could, you know... Delete it and repost it after you change it. Also, you're doing it wrong.
>> No. 80257
>>80004

ಠ_ಠ


Loving the story, by the way.
>> No. 80281
>>79927
Gee, great reaction time there, Anon.

>>79571
>>79587
...I only kept fucking mentioning this.
>> No. 80284
>“Now all three of us get to feel like the third wheel.”
>“Yes, but you are riding on a tricycle!”

See? That means that we need yo keep having threesomes in order for eveyone to be happy. I don't have a problem with that, do you anon?
>> No. 80341
These last few updates have ultimately lost me.
>> No. 80378
>>80341

I'm sorry to hear that.
>> No. 80590
File 123778463927.jpg - (169.82KB , 600x848 , vault corridor.jpg ) [iqdb]
80590
>[ ] “Mary, take over here. Just don’t set my room on fire.”
>- [ ] Take Ren’s Jacket. It’s got cigarettes to ply Ren with. And a switchblade.

“Mary, take over.”
“Okay, but—oof!”
There’s no time for modesty, so you drop the sheets as soon as you hand the lead vest off to Mary, who stumbles a bit under its weight. At the least she’ll be protected from any dangerous radiation emitted from your cookware.
“What were you making?” She asks.
“I don’t know; just finesse it!” You make a dismissive gesture with one hand as the other zips up the from of your Vault jumpsuit.
Finesse it?” Mary whines despondently. Gods, just by expecting the smallest of things from her, it’s like you were feeding her to a pack of wild dogs or something.
“Just don’t burn the place down, Hon.” You kiss her on the forehead, fixing the collar of Ren’s leather jacket. Odd how well it fits. It didn’t look very much oversized on Ren, but that just may be because she made it her own. Maybe its stretch leather? Smells of tobacco. You check the pockets to find the reassuring weight of the switchblade and the cigarettes.
“Max!” Mary calls as you step through the portal.
“What?”
She tosses an object to you which you catch in both hands. Ren’s lighter. You smile at her, and she waves you off before the door slides closed automatically.
You start to huff it toward the med center, realizing that neither Ren nor the rabbit is likely to be there, being it’s a Sunday and that Ren already has had plenty of time to find out her where the rabbit’s living quarters are.
“Dai?” You mutter under your breath, not wanting to creep people out as you jog down the hall. Yes, it is Usami’s coat I am wearing; would you stop gawking kindly, ladies?
RIGHT.
Yes, this way, you just look like someone who is really concerned about the time. Then the music kicks in.
“Trying hard now.”
Is this the theme to Rocky?
”It’s so hard now.”
Dai isn’t showing up to laugh at you yet, just text.
LEFT HERE.
”Trying hard now.”
It’s somewhat invigorating, actually.
RIGHT STAIRWELL. TWO FLOORS DOWN.


>> No. 80591
File 123778496149.jpg - (297.13KB , 640x480 , vault fairies.jpg ) [iqdb]
80591
You stop fantasizing of life as a training montage when the music cuts out.
KEEP STRAIGHT. 200 METERS.
You’re in the final stretch, so you slow down a bit. Won’t do any good to get there and not be able to say anything because you’re out of breath. This sector looks pretty rundown, exposed piping giving way to bare rock in places. The long burnt-out fluorescent lighting fixtures are increasingly replaced by bioluminescent fungus that seems to be growing out of everything (no doubt enhanced by fey magicks—foxfire and will-o-wisp), supplemented by the curiously large number of directed sunlamps installed over well-kept, decorative flowerboxes. The narrow corridors turn into warehouse-sized rooms, stacked high with shipping containers that seem to find use as residences. The number of humans drops off precipitously, to where you’re pretty much just seeing fairies now. They give you a modest berth, the throngs disintegrating and reforming just as quickly, apparently disinterested in you, your sex, your species, and/or your particular trappings, which is damn refreshing from the stares you get in the human quarters. Is this the kind of place you’d be working in?
“Hey,” Daiyousei buzzes, and you grab at your Pip-Boy reflexively, so as to muffle the voice as you pass through another crowd. “No need for that. You see any humans about you?”
“No, but…“ But maybe I underestimated your pull amongst your species, you meant. Lo and behold, no one gives you any odd looks when you start having a conversation with yourself.
“Two things. One, fairies are used to seeing each other communicate over the CB radio built into the Pip-Boy. Two, the fairies know to give you a wide berth.”
“Why would that be?”
“Oy vey! Didn’t I tell you that you were special, Max?” She responds huffily, as if she were disappointed you needed it explained to you.
“Ah, right. You did mention something along those lines. Sorry.” Just what is that about?
“Yeah, anyways… you had fun last night, didn’t ya?”
That is an unexpected, and uncomfortable, change of topic.
“You mean you weren’t watching?”
“Eh, just the abstract. Sensory perception as an AI is a little hard to describe in terms of attention. Suffice it to say that your biorhythmic data is watched at all times, and that the horizontal mambo has a quite distinct EEG pattern.”
“That’s very reassuring.”
“Well…?”
“What do you want me to tell you? ‘Thanks for the assist, brah?’ ‘Sorry you couldn’t be there?’”
Dai honestly looks flattered; maybe you broke her sarcasometer?
“…Heh, well, the best place to bury bad blood is under the bed, if you know what I mean, but still, if you expect any help like that again in the near future, then you gotta earn it.”
Ah. She really has no problem whoring out her shrine maiden, does she?
“Say no more, my well-worded wingman.”
There’s a thirty second lull, during which you pass into another warehouse, the placard marking it as ‘SF11R6’ (subfloor 11, room 6?).
“So! Never been this deep in the fairy warrens have ya’?”
“Can’t say that I have. Love the architecture, though.”
“Yeah, efficient and beauty-free. Oh, you’re closing up to it here. Look on your right. Blue container? One with the paper lantern hanging outside it? Can’t miss it.”
The blue container in question is on the first ‘story’ of the container complex, the other levels apparently accessed by the ladder rungs that line the side of each container, most of them seeming to sport side entrances, like the kind you’d find on a boxcar. They show all the signs of habitation—lights peeking out of open doors and ventilation holes, clothes drying on the lines that crisscross the warehouse, seemingly constructed as to take advantage of the giant fans that pump fresh air into the complex through the ceiling. The metal sliding doors have even been replaced with ‘traditional’ cellophane and presswood Japanese doors in some of the containers, and graffiti that marks and identifies them is often startlingly artistic. Now that you have the opportunity to take it all in, this fairy ghetto is actually charmingly bohemian.
You can’t read the character on the lantern, but you’re assuming it says ‘clinic’ as there’s a ‘CLOSED’ sign hanging on the door. You’re certain that it’s occupied however, given the light emanating through the door. You can see vague silhouettes of people moving around inside as you get closer, as well as hearing the muffled sound of someone yammering up a storm.
“Okay, no heckling when I start talking Ren down,” you whisper. “Seriously.”
“Roger dodger.” She gives you a thumbs-up. Go time.
Doing your best spy impression, you lean flush against the container and shimmy alongside it until you reach the door. You get odd looks from a few chatting fairies for this, but you’re certain it won’t amount to more than just that.
>> No. 80592
File 123778511298.jpg - (71.49KB , 600x800 , yue consternation.jpg ) [iqdb]
80592
You can see the silhouettes more clearly now. One is static, Dr. Yue sitting in a chair, likely tied up or otherwise bound. The other is Renko, animated, pacing, and ranting, with what looks like the handgun in question in her hand. You crouch and inch closer to listen in on the conversation.
“I’m glad we could do this in confidence, doc. You know it’s hard for a person of my standing and reputation to get creative feedback. I’m sure you can understand the need for some people to keep up appearances.”
No response.
“…Ahem, to continue: ’Q is for the queer, queer pelican, whose beak can hold more than his belican.’”
“Pff ffr plgrsm frm Ogdn Nsh!” Yue’s voice is muffled, gagged likely.
Oh God, has she been torturing the girl with her poetry?
“Come again?”
A gasp of air, as the gag is removed. “P is for plagiarism from Ogden Nash!”
You… long-eared, little rat!” Oh, that pissed her off.
“Lagomorph.”
“What?”
“Rabbits are lagomorphs, not rodents. Lago—mrph!” And back on it goes.
“Don’t talk wise to me missy, or I’ll go upside your head quickly!”
Yue flinches, but Ren’s hand doesn’t come down.
“I wonder if you can teach ‘lagomorphs’ tricks? Let’s start by teaching you to sing, like a canary. Here’s how this is going to work. You answer right, and the gag stays on. You answer wrong, and you get the taste of your own medicine.” Ren is holding something up, likely one of those lollipops.
The rabbit however just snorts.
Renko rips the wrapper off the medical candy. “That is the perfect example of a wrong answer. Say ‘ahh’~!”
“Are you out of your—mmph! Fck! Mnmph!”
“Now, that settled you down. Let’s see, since you apparently can’t listen for the sake of your own interests, let’s try a different approach.” Renko holds something up to her gun. It looks—oh dear.
“Nngh! Nngh!”
“Aren’t you fussy. Guess those lollipops aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, eh Maxey?” You freeze, but relax when she starts up again, apparently just talking to the ceiling. Another unwrapping sound, and you feel the pack of cigarettes in the jacket pocket. Her oral fixation acting up. “Not bad. Not bad. Now you start squealing, or the teddy gets it. Heh heh heh…”
She’s really enjoying herself, isn’t she? You’re honestly relieved that she doesn’t seem truly malign in her intentions. Ren turns away, still chuckling, and starts what looks like a random search through the doctor’s belongings. If you’re going to step in, now would be best, while she’s distracted.

[ ] <Melee> DYNAMIC ENTRY!
[ ] <Sneak> Slip in and cut the doctor’s bindings while Ren is busy fooling around; embarrassment is your greatest weapon against this woman.
[ ] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”
[ ] <Magic> Incapacitate Renko. “You are getting sleepy. Very sleepy.”
[ ] <Danmaku> Lay down suppressing fire! PEW! PEW!
[ ] Actually, just hang back for now; it’s pretty amusing honestly, and Ren is unlikely to actually hurt anyone.
[ ] Write-in.
>> No. 80593
[ ] <Magic> Incapacitate Renko. “You are getting sleepy. Very sleepy.”
>> No. 80599
[x] <Magic> Incapacitate Renko. “You are getting sleepy. Very sleepy.”

I'm glad Ren hasn't done anything drastic. Then again, I'm a bit biased.
>> No. 80601
[x] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”

Making Ren fall asleep is too plain. Too boring.
>> No. 80604
[x] <Magic> Incapacitate Renko. “You are getting sleepy. Very sleepy.”
>> No. 80619
[ ] <Magic> Incapacitate Renko. “You are getting sleepy. Very sleepy.”
>> No. 80660
[x] <Speech> Waltz in with a wink to Renko and play "Good Cop, Bad Cop."

While I'm all for the doc getting a taste of her own medicine, I get this feeling that letting Ren dick around with the teddy is a bad idea. Namely cuz our possible assassin was gonna leave it with us should we have chosen not to check out.
>> No. 80677
[x] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”

I'm all for testing our magical abilities before we have to use them in combat, but it wouldn't be worth it to end the situation like this. We might as well choose the option that would let Ren have a little fun while she's at it too.
>> No. 80690
[x] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”

Might as well use dem skills.
>> No. 80721
[x] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”
>> No. 80727
[x] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”
>> No. 80747
[x] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”
>> No. 80762
>[x] <Speech> Play to Ren’s fantasies. Have Dai amplify your voice as through a bullhorn, “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE USAMI!”

Wins. Autosage so next update goes in a new thread.

As a note, write-ins structured like the one below, which includes a relevant skill, is preferred for future write-ins:
>[x] <Speech> Waltz in with a wink to Renko and play "Good Cop, Bad Cop."
>> No. 80827
>>80762

Taken note of, though including it at the bottom of the next update can't hurt either since some people might not read it in here
>> No. 81180
>>[ ] <Melee> DYNAMIC ENTRY!

DAMN IT. Why couldn't we have picked melee instead of magic...