[x] Calm down, try to find her through other senses

Ugh, no, you can't get too worked up, no matter how much your body may want to. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself down. Your hearing is obviously not going to work in your favor anymore, and your sight isn't doing much good. It's time to rely on a special sense that you've felt since coming here. The aura that Chen emits, that peripheral vision marking the Yakumo family that you don't necessarily see, but can feel. With Chen so close to you, it's difficult to pin point where Chen is exactly, but after a brief moment, you think you got it. It becomes astonishingly clear the moment Chen opens fire on you once again.

With a quick slash, the bullets are blocked. All of them deflect harmlessly upon your spear. You got it. But the battle isn't over. More bullets approach you from the side. Those get blocked too. More bullets are fired and consequently vanquished in the blink of an eye. You're getting the hang of this, but you're finding it harder and harder to control that burning, fiery sensation in your chest. That feeling that's lighting your body on fire. It seems that no matter how much you may want to cool down, your body continues heating up like an out of control forest fire.

It needs to end. Now.

"Is Satoya wising up? Come on, catch Chen!"

You can see her. The brighter the fire burns, the more obvious Chen's aura becomes. She shifts through the trees at remarkable speed. But it's a predictable pattern. It isn't long until...

"Hah! Ah...huh? Sato--"

Chen's bullets had hit nothing. She stopped for a brief second to wonder and try and pin point your location.

Big mistake.

In one swift movement, you ambush Chen with all your might, taking her straight to the ground, giving her only just enough time to turn around and face your sudden visage as you tackle her. You pin her small frame down like a beast catching it's prey, digging the handle of your spear across her tender neck, crushing her under your own weight, ready to put this silly farce to an end once and for all. You rear

Among many of the curious facts surrounding the figure of Prince Shotoku, one of the least known of all is that he acquired a profound liking for mochi in his final years of life. When he proposed to create a Society of Rice Cakes and Sweets, the then Emperor of Japan asked his wife for advice. Soga no Tojiko, experienced at cooking all kinds of desserts, pastries and other kinds of food, said this to her husband:

"My husband, there have been many a cook who had excelled in the art of making sweets. Especially if we speak of mochi, for the quality of the cook who tryeth to make such a popular dessert can be easily surveyable by anyone. Therefore, I advise thou to halt pondering on the matter of that Society of Cakes, if thou still hath a spock of self-esteem left in thee."

On the other hand, Prince Shotoku's most esteemed friend, Mononobe no Futo, was also against his lord's sudden interest in learning how to cook sweets, and about the same time he sent a letter to the Emperor:

"My friend, I humbly ask thee to abandon thine idea of becoming a cook. It is fairly probable that my prejudices are clouding my sight, but sadly they do not lull my palate."

At this point, Prince Shotoku was forced to choose between his reputation as the Emperor of Japan and his newfound passion for cooking, and he picked the latter. Unfortunately for both. He dedicated his remaining life to master the art of making mochi, and to avoid conflicts with his wife and his friend, he decided to use a pen-name: Prince Shotaku. Soga no Tojiko got wind of this and sent another letter to her husband:

"My husband, if thou usest that pseudonym, everybody will know that not only I am married to a talentless cook, but I am also the wife of an idiot who may have an attraction to young children."

Prince Shotoku admitted that Tojiko was in the right once again, and so he changed his alias: Toyosatomimi no Miko. This finally solved the problem with his wife and his friend, but was also the cause of many complaints and penal charges from seventy-three shrine maidens who did not want their holy profession to be associated in any way with the infamous cook.

Thread 1: >>24467


The Clock:

The (x) after an option depicts how many units of time it will take to execute that option. Encounters differ with the period of time the protagonists are in as well as where they are at that specific time. Unless specified, all options are assumed to take one unit of time. Each "phase" contains two units of time.

The phases of time are: Dawn -> Sunrise -> Noon -> Sunset -> Dusk -> Moonrise -> Midnight -> Moonset -> Dawn -> ...

Inventory:

Unlike other stories, the protagonists' inventory is not a bag of holding. Don't think you can act like a packrat and take everything in tow; the story will specify whether you can take something or if you need to put something down in order to take the object in question with you.

This information is here so the reader knows what he/she is getting into when they choose an option. Thank you for reading this notice!

This is a practice story, to see if I’m truly cut out for this CYOA thing. Hopefully it doesn’t go off with too many problems.
----------------------------

“We are all haunted, all of us, by things we can see and feel and guess at, and many more things that we can't.”

~ Beth Gutcheon ~
----------------------------

Lying in the shade of one of many verdant trees that makes up a little grove just on the outskirts of my village, a young man cozily reads about local legends long past in faraway kingdoms he’s never been. While he may never experience such an adventure himself, he doesn’t mind too badly. He takes to reading any chance he can get, briefly eluding the toils of his work as apprentice to a knowledgeable weapons manufacturer. Contrary to what images may emerge to someone told about his looming profession, the boy really has no wishes to go out and pursue a life of defending the village or hunting potentially threatening youkai. He simply wanted to make something useful for the other men to do, they being far more built and daring to fit the life of a soldier or hunter. Not only that, risking his life in such a gruesome manner would be directly infringing on the duties of the shrine maiden, the local celebrity everybody knows about regardless of their race. So there he sits, his shoulders dug into the exposed base of this oak tree, enjoying a lunch break for all it’s worth.

While it’s certainly a good book, I must admit I’ve grown tired of reading it over and over. There are only so many different selections to choose from in our undersupplied library, as proud of it as we may be. Eventually, one will come to realize he has perused every single text to be found, and must then make a choice to either give up the habit or reread something he already knows by heart. To deny myself the privilege to written works is unheard of, much like the passerby who keeps a package of food all to himself without any though for the monks he may pass. So I’ve come to rotate through stories quite familiar to me by now, always sitting here in the lap of a mighty tree—when the weather permits—usually with a light snack to gr

We all know how the stories go. Someone gets lucky, stumbles upon the border to Gensokyo, penetrates it, and proceeds to romance its denizens. Each time the story proceeds under a pretense: You are special, you are unique, and perhaps you are even the first one in.

Stories are fiction.

The records place the number of former outsiders who entered during the last two years at 1125, not counting outsiders who perished before documentation. True, there are only a few living outsiders active in Gensokyo as of your knowledge, but that is not a good sign.

The causality rate is so high that the villagers have given up properly burying the corpses, and began leaving them out for the animals and feral youkai to feast on at their leisure.

Not like they don’t deserve it.

Some of the records of death in Akyu’s house contain annotations, for when the reason is more interesting than just “fell off cliff”, “eaten”, or “poisoned in the Forest of Magic”.

#1124, committed suicide after love confession rejected by Hakurei shrine maiden.

#1106, brutally dismembered after attempted molestation of Netherworld gardener during shrine festival.

#1096, failed miserably when channeling chakra arts against youkai.

#1078, believed self to be cyborg spy from future, accidentally killed by gatekeeper when sneaking in to the Scarlet Devil Mansion.

You are number 1126, can you do better?
=====================================================

Time: 10:00 AM
Date: June 26, 2014
Location: Somewhere near the Hakurei Shrine
Threat Level: 1

================

The blinding light of the summer sun beats on you as you stand up from the shadow of the shrine.

Looks like you made it. You give yourself a small pat on the back for getting this far. Burying yourself in archives of obscure eastern thaumaturgy and records of old religious sites for the past year has allowed you to triangulate the location of the outside world Hakurei Shrine, now just a few crumbled flagstones on what once was a foundation, and perform the necessary breaching rituals to get through the Border

creation@comp-173:~$ cd ISE
creation@comp-173:~/TH$ ls -a
. .. ISE.jar .Data
creation@comp-173:~/TH$ java -jar ISE.jar

Illusive Skyward Eye is a text-based adventure game.
Girls do their best now and are preparing. Please watch warmly until it is ready.

[ ]: New Game
[ ]: Continue
[ ]: Options
[ ]: Extra
[ ]: Scene Select
[ ]: Quit

[☭] Options

Text Settings:

Update speed:
[ ]: Every 7 minutes
[ ]: Daily <Update quality will suffer>
[☭]: Weekly
[ ]: Monthly
[ ]: Annual
[ ]: Whenever I feel like it.

Update length:
[ ]: Laconic
[ ]: Beige
[☭]: Standard prose
[ ]: Verbose
[ ]: Walls

Gameplay Settings:

Difficulty:
[ ]: Normal <Easy mode for those who don't like challenges. Bad ends are disabled.>
[ ]: Hard <I'll give hints like this when I feel like it. The worst bad ends are disabled.>
[☭]: Lunatic <Hints will be given after bad/dead ends. Good ends are enabled.>
[ ]: UBW <True Ends enabled.>

Seriousness:
[ ]: 63/96

Intro:
[ ]: Abbreviated
[ ]: Full

Sound Settings:
[ ]: Disabled <Locked>

Video Settings:
[ ]: Disabled <Locked>

You run; your legs push against the ground, each quick step causing the wind to smash in your face, drying your eyes.

You can’t hear them anymore. You don’t stop thought; you slow down a bit, heeding the growing aches in your legs.

It seems you lost them. Still, you should make sure.

You dash ahead and jump; you extend your arm and latch on light post, letting it redirect your momentum for a second before you let go, running full tilt down a blind alley. You grit your teeth and, pushing off the floor with all your strength you run one, two, three long steps up the alley’s wall, grab it from the top and pushing yourself over.

You have a second to look down at the piles of boxes and thrash you remember not being there last time, before a feeling of vertigo warns you that this may not go well.

You land on your feet on an old box which immediately crumples under you with a ‘crunch’; you lose your footing and fall on your arms, which you barely managed to lift to cover your face.

That sucked. Anyway, you’re safe now; you gingerly pull yourself up, wincing as your left elbow throbs but otherwise feeling just fine, if a bit winded.

After checking that you have no serious injuries to speak of, you sit back down on the floor and take a bottle from your bag, drinking from it and catching your breath at your leisure, congratulating yourself from getting away from the ‘Golds’; stupid name.

Not five minutes could have passed before you hear footsteps; lots of footsteps.

With a bit of dread, you remember a little detail; just to make sure, you lift one of your feet and look at the sole of your shoe.

“Now this sucks” you say; the sole is covered in ugly, fresh yellow paint.

You stand up and walk away from the wall as quietly as possible, hoping they won’t hear you and just go away.

“Katsuo!” yells a low, very annoyed voice. “Next time you hide don’t leave a trail! Now get over here and we can do this quickly!”

“Sure goldie!” ugh, you’re bad at name calling, “I’ll be right over!” you said as you walk away, slowly.

“You better do if ya know what

Morning.

The fresh smell of tea permeates the air. Your eyes flicker open as you see the white ceiling of your room again, sunlight illuminated the rest of your room. Letting out a sigh, a small smile forms on your face as you sit up, seeing a glass of tea next to you.

“Ah, what a pleasant day,” you remark, silently chuckling to yourself.

You hear a door open as you turn towards your butler, Wilton, entering in with a tray of food. Gently pushing your blanket aside, you sit on the edge of the bed as your butler sets the tray of food down next to the glass of tea.

“Good morning, Wilton,” you greet cheerfully, “How are you this morning?”

“I am quite fine, Master George,” your butler replies, giving you a quick bow. “And what about you, sir, you seem to in high spirits this morning.”

“Indeed, Wilton. I have to say that I had quite a pleasant dream.”

“A dream, sir?”

“Of course, a dream of a beautiful land of mystery and wonder, where the impossible becomes real and where people have adventurers and joyful parties each and every day.”

Wilton lets out a single snort. “Sounds kind of like your life here, don’t you think, sir?”

You laugh in return as you grab the tray of food and start to eat. Pancakes and scrambled eggs, not a bad meal to start the day.

“So, Wilton, did I miss anything? Usually, you bring my tea first.”

“Well, you’re already several minutes behind your morning swim, sir. Shall I reschedule it?”

Swallowing a bit of pancakes and washing it down with tea, you shake your head. “No, no, no, I’ll just simply get dressed now. Can you pack the rest of my things please and get the car started, Wilton?”

“Yes sir… I will do so immediately.” Wilton bows before leaving the room, leaving you alone as you finish your breakfast. Wiping your mouth clean, you get out of bed and quickly make it to your bathroom, taking a quick shower, a little surprised how long it takes for the warm water to turn on. Perhaps the boiler’s acting up today.

After brushing your teeth and dressing yourself, you walk out of your room when your butl

So I'm trying to get back into my writings. If you read my first story still lurking on page 2 of this board you're already familiar with the setup; snowstorm over outside city, 2hoes showing up everywhere, you're a dude in a sweet car who picked up one half of Team Nineball and now is trying get to his home and then see what to do.
BUT THAT'S NOT ALL
I'm trying to do some viewpoint splitting given that I got tired of writing just Carnonymous the last time around so HERE'S YOUR CHOICE YOU FAGETS; each choice has different themes and atmosphere too. Watch out for what you want in a story.

Play as
[] That young police officer; as Yamame is still hot on your ass this begins with a chase scene vehicle sequence and descends into chaos, violence, I AM THE LAW, the trappings of being a policeman / authority figure in a time of crisis, decisions between being good and being lawful etc. srsbzns and nofunallowed rating: HIGH

[] Dose two niggas: The Turk and the Russian are back on the way to their homies but LIFE WANTS YOU DEAD BRO so you get caught up in Gensokyoan shenanigans and may or may not be the first gangstas to grace the plains of the Eastern Wonderland, looting and laughing as you go. Because if you're leading a life of crime anyway, stealing a 2000+ year old sword that can shoot lasers gotta be good for something. 2gta4u and "Steal everything that isn't nailed down, then steal the nails, then the things that were nailed down and then the things they were nailed to" rating: HIGH

[] Carnonymous: you will continue the quest of being a lone student trying to keep the nineballs from freezing/setting your flat on fire all the while searching for the rest of the crew and surviving in a city going further down the drain by the minute. Srs rating: Medium.

CHOOSE WISELY

==

~Renko's Adventure~

A Story In Infinite Production.

ver. 0.9.9.9e

Start
>Continue Game
Options
Extras
Exit game

Resuming game ...
Loading Renko.progtag
Loading Sakuya.char
Loading Moscow.ci
Loading Inventory.txt

==


You share a frown with Sakuya; Orleans can't see Moscow's drawings. She can't even see Moscow herself, except maybe the very top of her head.
'Why.' Sakuya mouths silently at you, looking alarmed, but you just shrug your shoulders.
'Sure.' You raise your voice and call out to Orleans through the fog-like gloom. Truth is, you're starting to get irritated at her interruptions. If she cares about her sister, why doesn't she come over here instead of hanging back like a scared animal? 'Tell your mother we'll be down in a bit - ' you drop your voice to a whisper quickly, ' - with you, Moscow?'
The white creature blinks once, hard, and then nods slowly.
'With Moscow too.' You add in a louder voice, to Orleans.

But she's already gone; the rapid patter of her feet vanishes into the dust on the threadbare carpet, back down the corridor you entered from.

' ... Renko.' Sakuya clears her throat gently. 'That was unexpected. You don't think anything's about to happen?' Sakuya half-turns, supporting herself against the sofa, so she can watch the rest of the room. Her crutch wavers in one hand, as if she wants to raise it against the soporific power of the darkness blanketing the room.
'It's fine.' You shake your head, trying to reassure her. You haven't heard anyone - or anything - else approaching, and you're probably sitting right next to the scariest thing in the entire building already.
But you are suddenly and sharply aware that Sakuya is outside the ring of sofas, trapped on the exterior of Moscow's little fort.

'Mossy.' You ask softly, deciding it's better to be safe than sorry. 'Would it be alright if Sakuya came in here with us? I can vouch for her.'