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Previous thread: >>31609

There are only a few patrons in the pub, mostly sitting at the bar and making light conversation among themselves. An old man, the owner, nods at you as you come in and Komachi picks a small table towards the back of the place. She orders right away, reclining in her chair as you wait for drinks.

“Been a long day, hasn’t it?” she asks.

“Has it?” you reply, “it feels as if most of the time you were napping, eating or sitting around.”

“Keeping an eye on you is pretty tiring, trust me,” she ripostes, none too bothered. The sake is quick to arrive, brought by a young girl who asks if you’d want something to eat as well. You tell her that you’ll think about it and Komachi agrees. “Cheers,” she raises her glass, “to work.”

“To work,” you echo, somewhat more seriously. Sake is nice and all, and you drink it gladly, but you also take the opportunity to write down more thoughts in the notebook. It’s not quick-going since the shinigami keeps talking to you throughout but over the next hour—while enjoying a few more drinks and some finger food—you manage to build up a satisfactory record of the day and what was going on in your mind. You close the notebook with a satisfying thump and finally put it down.

It is fortuitous that you decided to do at least that much as Komachi’s freewheeling drinking session comes to an abrupt end. She was in the middle of a story about putting a celestial in her place. In an instant an ample smile and ruddy cheeks morph into a reserved stare and ashen face. Your back is to the door but you turn to follow her eyes and see the source of her sudden transformation: Lady Shiki has come into the establishment.

The Yama spots you instantly, offering a sober nod as she comes over. “Candidate. Komachi,” she greets each of you with a polite nod.
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[x] Express a desire to continue to take notes and perhaps sketch during your conversation.
draw her like one of your Gensokyan girls
[x] Express a desire to continue to take notes and perhaps sketch during your conversation.
[x] Confess that it’s intimidating but also interesting to be out drinking with a yama.

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Mt. Takao, Hachioji - 29th of March 15:19

“Scrap that, Renko.” I tell her, pocketing my phone. “You’re gonna come with me to a job.”

She raises her head from the ground. “A job?” She asks, perplexed.

“Yes. I do work.” I tell her. “I can’t spend all day everyday working this majestic body.”

She rolls her eyes in response, apparently not finding my sarcasm fun. “I mean, what do you do for work?”

“I fix holes in a giant invisible wall, essentially.” I tell her. “Then I also take care of the monsters that made that hole by forcing them back through it.” Which is oversimplifying it grossly.

She sits up. “And how am I supposed to help?”
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Quick update.

Been busy with finals, so I haven't had time to write anything yet.
Waiting warmly, as always.
Saging doesn't work for some reason, as you've probably noticed.

But don't worry, I'm still writing. I'm also job hunting, which sadly has to take priority. Definitely didn't mean for it to take this long for the next update, though.

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The dead man accepts judgment with unusual aplomb. Whereas others might squirm at having their sins read out or—as had been the case earlier—attempt to interrupt the session with hasty interjections and justifications, he seems almost indifferent to what the Yama has to say. If the judge is surprised by this unusual man, she hides it well, being as meticulous in presenting the facts of the case as with every other preceding soul that day. His quiet poise still makes an impression on the others watching and they pay careful attention to the build up to the sentencing.

Being sentenced to hell seemed like the obvious outcome; the lot of most sinners is an opportunity for repentance followed by punishment. So you're surprised when he is instead sent to the Netherworld. The man offers a bows to the judge once the proceedings are concluded. Then he is escorted away from the court, his fate to be advanced by a shinigami acting as bailiff. This proves to be the last act of the court for the day.

The presiding yama thanks the clerks of the court for their hard work and ends their long shift. She puts away her hand mirror into a protective bag and then rises from her seat. Before retiring to her chambers, however, she looks over at you and beckons you to come with a nod. That’s a very exciting development for you, as you’ve never been in the private chambers of a judge before. Truth be told, you have no idea what to expect. Your first courtroom experience today has already made your head swim more than once.

It appears that the Yama does not have very extravagant tastes. The room is an austere space with a few chairs, a simple shelf with some scrolls and a large desk with a stack of documents. She takes a seat and invites you to do the same. “How was your first day at court?” she asks, allowing a slight smile to form on her lips for the first time in the day.

“It was fascinating, Enma,” you answer. “Hearing about what goes on and actually seeing it with my own eyes is like night and day. I am not certain I am ready.”

“Modesty is good, Candidate,” she says,
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[x] Join her.
[x] There's still work to do.
New thread >>31879

It would probably be helpful to other readers if you shared your reasons for believing that instead expecting everyone to accept your conclusion just because.

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[x ] I’ll trade your story for what I’ve got so far. Secrets shared are friendships made.

You recite your vision, your shattered and reassembled memories that were jolted to the surface. You spare no detail in describing the beginning of your desires from killing ants and insects, and your gradual progression up the food chain until you were feeding off other humans, and finally the destruction your soul was subjected to at the hands of the professor, whose name and features are but a blur, but their words and actions remain.

Throughout the tale, Reisen reacts first with some mild shock, then a sort of understanding frown, before finally smiling as you describe how you were torn apart and reassembled.

“And that’s how the old Wu Zhenguo died.” You finish, “Probably for the better.”

Reisen’s ear twitches as she re-examines you with the lenses, “Looks consistent, your chest cavity is indeed partially destroyed. But, how?” She asks as she pokes you in the chest, obviously not feeling the hole, “What sort of entity with this amount of power will bother to disguise as a commoner and target a virtual nobody?”

You shrug, “I have some ideas, retired Greek gods being the first and foremost given the river invocations, but I’ll worry about that when I ask Conner about any strange professors we might remember if I can sneak back to the village. You know what? It might actually be him, now that I think about it. But it’s your turn, my dear rabbit.”

You flinch as Reisen, without a word, reaches out and caresses your neck...for a moment. Your eyes then lock with hers, and then your senses are no longer your own.

Foreign brain waves invade your own, a peculiar insanity.
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[x] Wait

The boat clears the mists, and at the oar is a redheaded woman in an puffy dress, decorated by coins. A name tingles in what little consciousness you have remaining: Komachi.

“Komachi?” You mutter, exhaling outwards in a ghostly whisper. The woman simply stares at you, and motions for you to board the boat. She does not ask for a toll.

You feel around your robes, and reveal a single gold coin. You recognize this gold coin. You tossed it to your friend, remember? When did she give it back?

The woman ignores it, even after you board the boat.

The boat turns around and moves, even though she’s not rowing. The riverbank fades, and you catch sight of hundreds, if not thousands of other souls waiting at its shores. However, you are the sole passenger for this voyage. Special treatment?

The other side of the river does not come into view.

“Technically,” Komachi suddenly breaks the silence, “I’m not sure if I should even be bringing you across. Wu Zhen-Guo is not dead.”
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[X] “AYO! THE MAGNIFICENT TENSHI HERE WITH THE WORLD FAMOUS MEN IN BLA...Get off the radio...This is Captain Matthew Ferguson here with the CIA-Clear Sky Joint Strike Force. We’ve got the weather manipulation device -HAARP- set up, requesting assistance with defending it on activation.”
Massive, obvious target means more action.

>“Technically,” Komachi suddenly breaks the silence, “I’m not sure if I should even be bringing you across. Wu Zhen-Guo is not dead.”
>“You really have not changed, lost soul. No matter how often you cross the river....”
>“...All you do is kill.”
Ah yes, we are going to hell.
[x] “AYO! THE MAGNIFICENT TENSHI HERE WITH THE WORLD FAMOUS MEN IN BLA...Get off the radio...This is Captain Matthew Ferguson here with the CIA-Clear Sky Joint Strike Force. We’ve got the weather manipulation device -HAARP- set up, requesting assistance with defending it on activation.”

I can only imagine how bad it will be if it starts raining river water.

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She paced the edge of it, ruddy-red waves lapping gently over her ankles, painting the soil in full, dark wine: a crater-lake of blood, its heady scent filling her core with the gnawing hunger of centuries. Above her spun the stars of a sky of always night, the Moon, perhaps, crowning them high overhead.

Or perhaps it hung somewhere off the coast of Brazil. She couldn’t tell: there was no light from it, after all, not without the Sun to illuminate it. But it was one or it was the other, because it was high tide on the lake, which meant the greatest extent of freedom allowed to her by the terms of her sealing, if only by a few feet of damp backshore.

She paced it nonetheless.

[ ] Savouring it, for all that it was worth.
[ ] Hating every moment of it.
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Since I'm in a sharing mood and not much of a productive one:

Richard von Greiffenklau zu Vollrads, Archbishop and Prince-elector of Trier from 1511 to 1531. Went to war against Franz von Sickingen in the Knights' Revolt, which went on to inspire the much bloodier German Peasants' War. Owned a pretty substantial gun collection, including the nine-ton Kanone Greif, the largest siege gun of its time.
If you're not well for writing, historical background like this is still appreciated.

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Tokyo is the same as it has been these past eighty years, crowded, cramped, but at the same time a very free and open environment. Sure new buildings are built, but what makes this city what it is has failed to change.

It is a city of dreamers, conmen, and opportunists; it opens its doors wide for those willing to do what it takes to claim what they want, though it has a nasty of habit of turning those same into the destitute.
Though this city has no place for one such as yourself anymore.

You didn’t board the first train the Gap Master sent out, there was an exodus of us, the forgotten, but you stayed behind, there are still plenty of games to play in a city such as this.

That was 1954.

Every ten years another invitation would be sent out, giving promise of a paradise, this “Gensokyo”, and every time more of us would leave, by 1994 there was hardly any left to board the trains.

It wasn’t until most children couldn’t even see you that you decided to leave.

The year is 2014.
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Erien, get the fuck back here. Move to /shorts/ if you have to, but get back here.
No, don't particularly wanna.
got 'em

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Previous Thread: >>29707

[X] Awyrgan, what do you want?

Everybody else falls silent as the tank slowly drives up to you. "HATCH DIRECTIVE REQUIRES A COMMANDING UNIT TO DEFINE. DO YOU WISH TO REVOKE THIS LIMIT?"

"Yes." You affirm, "Nobody other than you yourself know better than what to do in this case."

"Hold on!" Nitori protests, "What if it decides to just never hatch?"


"I do not know." Tenma says, with just the hint of nervousness, "What are your parameters, Iron Wing?"

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[x] I’ll trade your story for what I’ve got so far. Secrets shared are friendships made.

bun sekrits
[x] I’ll trade your story for what I’ve got so far. Secrets shared are friendships made.

We've too many secrets and not enough friends.

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Old thread

I stood there, one second stretching out into eternity. The memory of my previous days flashed before my eyes—so much had happened, just to lead up to this point. Being chased by fairies across a lake, breaking into a manor on the edge of space and time, eating lunch with a vampire...though my life had never been dull, this week ranked pretty damned high on the strangeness scale. And after all that bullshit? I stood with my own two feet upon the surface of the moon, trying to carry out one of the most audacious heists that I have ever tried.

Now, I just had to get of the pesky fairy in front of me. The annoying bint was grinning at me with fireballs in her hands, just daring me to try something. Anything.

I needed something strong, something that packed a punch, something powerful enough to whack this youkai wannabe out of the air and get me out of the door safely. As my thoughts sped, just to the side I could still feel the steady magical pulses of the drum, emanating from underneath the rubble. Like the flirtatious winks of a coy maiden.

Horrible metaphor, but the whimsical imagery somehow made up my mind. I leapt, barely managing to dodge two bolts of energy fired my way, and landed hard onto the rubble. My knee raked against a ripped wooden beam, and I sucked in air through my teeth as I felt a thousand splinters imbed themselves into my thigh. Ow. I swallowed the pain as I started to scramble forwards like a lizard, keeping my profile low to avoid the fairy's potshots. It was like advancing forwards in some demented fairytale version of ‘Nam. I winced as the multicolored bullets whizzed above me, each one of them closer than the last.

And finally, my luck ran out. A bullet crashed into my arm, and I could feel my protective charms whine in protest-- right before I was flipped over bodily by the force of the blow. Something sharp pierced through my sleeves and into my arm, but I bit down on the scream and looked to my goal with watering eyes.

It was close. So close. Gritting my teeth, I lunged forwards for the
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[x] No pillaging. There was simply no time to waste, a shock team of fairies could drift in at any minute and I was little more than deadweight at this point.

I appreciate his enthusiasm, but he can barely walk.

[x] Let her decide, long as it may take. Plus, I was curious as to why she was taking so long to do so. Waiting for her might shed some light on the matter.

Great, I'm curious as well now.
check the dates lads

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She was standing against the blistering assault of white, entranced in it.

The violent wind felt poetic in a way for how she felt. Always changing direction, never forgiving to the people inhabiting it. The wind threatened to tear away her hat, so she took it off, letting her golden blond hair flow freely in the wind's torrent. She looked at the scenery from the top floor, hoping her sister would come back soon, but inwardly she assumed the worst. She quickly shut it out of her mind.

It was only a few days away from tonight that the anniversary of that event would arrive. She felt the melancholy seeping in once again. She couldn't sleep, which made her end up here. Footsteps made their way upwards, cloaked by the howling blizzard.

A girl of light blue hair opened the door to the top floor. She saw her gold-haired sister gazing blankly. Inwardly she felt irritation at her constant gloom. It happened, the blur haired sister thought it should be left at that. Quietly, she walked back downstairs to go back to sleep.

Neither was going to hold tolerance for the other much longer.


The Fifth Day

When I woke up, I felt incredibly warm. I felt several blankets on me, all of which were familiar. Right, I brought spare blankets with me. The warmth nearly lulled me back to sleep, but I couldn't let that happen. After waging war in my mind for about 10 minutes, I got up out of bed.
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[X] "No thanks; I'll ask Lyrica."
[X] "No thanks; I'll ask Lyrica."
[X] "No thanks; I'll ask Lyrica."

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Hello! this is my first story on this website. Hope you enjoy it, but before we start, I should mention a few things. This is a multi-route story that depends on your choices. Some questions will be vague and influential, so if you'd like to know who your going for, check one of the boxes below

[ ] Hints. Any choices that impact your relationship with the characters will have a "+1" and then the name of the character. This will tell you which route your going on.

[] No hints. Basically going in blind. Use with great responsibility.
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[x] "Stop Cirno and Whiterock."
[X] "Stop Cirno and Whiterock."
[x] "Stop Cirno and Whiterock."

"You need to stop them from fighting..." I muttered.

"Huh?" Lyrica said.

"Cirno doesn't have the power to defeat... Whiterock. You need to calm them both... before we all... all..."

The world began to fade, and my consciousness felt like it was as well. I soon was losing my hold in reality, but the one thing I held onto was the gaze of her lovely face...


And he shut his eyes. Ives isn't going to make it in the weather like this, and with everything a blur, it was hard to find the camp - a grey silhouette in the roaring snowstorm. I needed to get him back in the tent, and quickly. I went into one of the sleeping tents and tucked Ives under tons of covers. There, he should be fine for now. Now as long as that tent doesn't buckle under the pressure, I can move onto the issue that threatened our safety.

I went back out to confront Cirno, who was in the heat of battle - the only heat there was - fighting in the whitened sky. I flew over to her, and tried shouting over the wind.
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