I stop the car. “Wonderful.” I open the window, taking a deep breath. That doesn't stink like petrol. That's unusual but great.
I admit that I had a serious doubt before. Buying a house in the middle of nowhere was stupid, even for me. But I couldn't help it. I was walking, focused on my recent problems, and then I saw that picture of the house, on the estate agent's window. It was like a divine revelation, and I though “I have to buy it”. So I stopped instantly to read the ad. 'Great house, size of a mansion, some repairs needed but still affordable. Very isolated, no problem with neighbours.' Exactly what I needed. I bought it instantly.
And now that I'm in the middle of nowhere, I don't regret it. Sure, it's an old house, it probably doesn't have electricity nor Internet. But the good thing is that I won't be constantly pestered by my editor. And I'm ready to pay good money for that. I open the boot. Several bags, but I'll only need one for now. That house is old, so I should clean it a little. And that's why I brought this! “A solar-powered vacuum cleaner! Since there are no energy in that house, solar panel is the way to go!” Damn I'm so awesome and cool!
If only I could have some sun, of course. I quickly look at the vacuum cleaner's battery level. “5 percent. Curses.” This will take a while before it's fully charged. Oh well, I'm not going to clean that house right now. I need to explore it first, figure out how much it'll cost me to make it habitable.
From the outside, I can already see that the front need some paint. And the shutters are all rusty. Just opening them will be a pain in the neck. And I'll need to paint them too, but with some uninhibiting paint. So far, it looks like a typical European mansion. I briefly wonder why a house that old in the middle of such a remote area looks like an European mansion, but maybe it was built during the Meiji restoration, when Europe was the fashionable. Taking a key from my pocket, I open the main door, and I enter. “Oh. Okay.” I walk back to my car boot, and take a flash light. Good thing I prepared for this. Too bad I forgot a gas mask, that house is really dusty. Oh well, it's not like dust can kill me.
One more time, I enter in the building. “Woaaaah... That's really silent. Exactly what I need.” Talking to myself, I break the silence. I don't want to admit it, but that silence is making me feel uneasy. It feels like entering in some old abandoned factory. Well, it's not exactly a factory, since it's a house, but I still have this feeling I'm entering in an old abandoned place. I feel like I should sing something. I'm no singer, but if there's a noise, any kind of noise, I'll feel less scared than I am right now. “Four they were, and three went...” The song dies on my lips. I should probably stay silent, until I can bring some real light in this place.
Following my intuition, I walk to the nearest room. It's the kitchen. There's a huge pile of dirty pans in the sink. So that means there's probably gas here. Good, I won't have to start a fire if I want a hot meal. That's convenient, since I'm not really a physical person. But before thinking about food, I must finish my exploration. “Hahaha.... Exploration. I need a whip, a hat, and John Williams' music to look like a real explorer.” I try to push the shutter open, but it doesn't budge. That goddamn cheap furniture is too rusty, I can't open it! Look like I'll have to saw it off. Wonderful. Or maybe I can force it with a crowbar? “I knew I was forgetting something important.” But how was I supposed to know that I would need a crowbar? Nobody use crowbar! Except burglars and scientists, of course, but I'm nothing like that. I'm just a poor artist trying to find a good place to work, without any interference. “On the bright side, I'm fairly certain that 'interference' is now lying dead under that building.” I don't really know how I'm supposed to call this place. It's larger than a house, so I'm supposed to call it a mansion? Hey, look at me, people, I'm living in a mansion! I'm a filthy rich! “How silly.” Giving up on the shutter, I resume my exploration.
Ground floor. All the same. Everything looks like it's abandoned in place. “I shoulda ask that guy at the estate agent's what the business is, with this place. Look like it was suddenly abandoned all of a sudden.” There you go, inspiration coming again. I have the sudden urge to run to my car, take my typewriter, sit here, and write until I'm too tired to lift even a finger. “Mmm... Can't do it, business first.” Besides, haunted house isn't really my business. I'm mostly into soapy romance. Sometimes, I hate myself for writing such shitty things, but then I remember that I'm still single. And then I stop hating myself. Instead, I scorn myself. “Whatever. So, this is the dining room.” With a few candles, it might looks good and romantic. Perfect inspiration for another soapy scene in a restaurant. Damn, I really want to write now. I don't really know what I'm going to write, but I want to write something. “Mmmm.” I try to fight the urge. I have responsibilities. I'm an adult. I can't just drop whatever I'm doing and go fly toward magical fantasy land when I feel like writing. “Chores before fun.” I try to encourage myself by saying that, but the more I explore this mansion, the more tired and discouraged I feel. So much work to put everything back in place, I really want to give up for today and sleep in the car.
“That's it, I'm done!” Rats. There are rats in that building. I'll need to buy poison tomorrow. And a crowbar. And some canned food, since I won't be able to cook seriously until the kitchen is rehabilitated. I sigh. I only investigated the ground floor, but I expect the first floor to be worse than that. So far, I visited a kitchen, a dining room, a living room, a library, and the bathroom. All with enough dust to kill a whole army of asthmatic innocent people. Wonderful. Well, I wanted an isolated and quiet house, I got what I wanted, so I'm going to complain. Hell, who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to complain, bitch, swear and insult everything and everyone. But nobody can listen to me, so everything is fine. A quick glance to my watch tells me it's time for dinner. After that, maybe I'll clean a little. Or I can go to the village, and buy some poison for the rats. Better to take care of that early. Where's the village anyway? Oh wait, that guy from the estate gave me a map, so I'll have a look. But after the meal.
 I should try to use the kitchen. I noticed pans earlier, I can clean one and cook myself something warm. Hot meal will give me enough courage to start cleaning this place, one room after another.  I have a some sandwiches in the car. They're cold and disgusting, but it's still better than trying to use that kitchen. Especially since I don't have any neighbours to help me.
 I have a some sandwiches in the car. Maybe I could wash a pan from the kitchen and make them more edible by (re)heating them. Especially since I don't have any neighbours to help me and I don't want to burn down the mansion trying something fancy.
I just don't like the absolute feeling of those two options, the first looks too optimistic by disregarding the overall condition of the house (I wouldn't eat something that was near rats for any given time if given the choice), while the other looks like giving up. The write-in is a try to be more practical about the situation. In case this isn't valid then go by:
[x] I should try to use the kitchen. I noticed pans earlier, I can clean one and cook myself something warm. Hot meal will give me enough courage to start cleaning this place, one room after another.
Because optimism is the best way to start a venture.
[x] I have some sandwiches in the car. Maybe I could wash a pan from the kitchen and make them more edible by (re)heating them. Especially since I don't have any neighbours to help me and I don't want to burn down the mansion trying something fancy.
I know what I want more than anything else. It's a toast. I love toast. They're so crispy, it's impossible not to like them.
I walk back to the car, and pick up my sandwiches. They're all soggy and disgusting, but perhaps I can toast them, if I can clean a pan enough to heat them without covering them with dust. But I don't plan to sleep in the house for now, so I won't bring out the sleeping bag yet. Guess I'll spend my first night in the car.
I'll definitely need a crowbar later. It's already difficult to find my way in the mansion with just a flash light, but it's really godlike to find a clean pan in that mess. I put the flash light on a table, right behind, so that it can light the whole room. After that, I begin my quest. And it's not an easy one, let me tell ya. But it looks like there is really a god after all, since I manage to find a clean pan! “Hooray!” My happiness is glowing with an incredible power! Well, I don't know what it means, that it probably means that I'm happy. Or something like that. “Okay, next step is finding how I can turn on the gas, and then-” For a brief second, the entire room is nothing but darkness. I freeze, trying to understand what just happened.
It looked like something passed in front of the lamp, for just a second. It was just an illusion. Some light trick. Right? “Of course it was.” My voice is the only noise in the entire mansion. Why did I bought this house? I almost regret it. Almost, because it was really cheap, and I really needed something like that. I still to be in a quiet place to write my books. And my editor told me he would gladly sell my balls if I don't bring him a book, so if I can write my book here, I'm ready to clean the whole mansion. But while I'm saying, I'm also gradually startled by the whole thing. I have to quickly eat before dark, because honestly, I don't think I have the guts to stay in this place tonight. I walk to the table, and grab the lamp. I want it near me, I don't want it to fall in some hard to reach place, like behind a furniture, or something like that.
With the pan in one hand, and the flash light in another, I walk to the gas cooker, and I quickly inspect it. With a low groan, I decide that using this antediluvian thing is not my brightest idea today. There is a thick layer of fat over the cooker, making it hardly usable. Hey, I can almost bury my finger in that thing. I instinctively turn around, trying to find a microwave oven, but instead of that, I just see something moving. I jump. When I look again, it's only a shadow dancing under the light. I scared myself, like a kid. I'll really need to buy a crowbar, force those shutters open, and bring some light in this place. And also bring a radio or something. Some noise will be perfect. Unwilling to give up, I place the pan on the cooker, and I try to turn on the gas. After hearing a loud whistle, I turn it off again. That thing won't light by itself, I need some matches. And I don't have any. Perhaps if I try tinkering around with the flash light, I can make some kind of lighter? “No, that's a stupid idea.” I guess I'm just going to eat outside. I can't stand this darkness any more. Leaving the pan on the useless cooker, I grab my sandwiches, and I leave the building.
After eating the sandwiches, I rummage through my luggages. I don't have anything else to do for today but grab a blanket, try to find a comfortable position in my car, and sleep until tomorrow. “Oh my, the memory.” I remember that one. I bought it when I left the house. It's a huge, warm, blanket, with written on it 'fuck you I do what I want'. I was such a rebel back in the days.
I sit at the passenger seat, and I lock the car. Last time I slept like that, I woke up on a dinghy, in the middle of a lake. I have such hilarious friend, they were ready to carry me all the way to the lake. That's pretty much why I'm here, in the middle of nowhere, trying to find the most isolated place in the world to write my books and save my organs from my greedy editor. Turning around while remembering fond memories, I finally feel asleep.
“Recent news: the political leader Yu Brokmaiharm aggrieved his right hand in public. He claimed that his hand sexually provoked him. Psychologist Doctor Yu Aramauron claim he's crazy.” “SHUT UP!” I violently kick the radio, breaking it. That was a very good kick, I'm extremely proud of myself. “Mmpffff fuck.” I need a morning coffee. Something to shrug off the drowsiness. “I hate sleeping in a car.” I stretch my neck. It makes strange noises. I check my radio. It makes a sad face. I open the door and I absent-mindedly look at my car while thinking about the thing I'll need to make this mansion inhabitable. And then I'm the one making a sad face. “A crowbar. I need a fucking crowbar. And the guy who did that. And I need to shove the crowbar up his ass, and push until his ass is as wide as Mount Fuji.” There are scratches all over my car. Like if someone went all over it with keys, especially to damage it and try to make me angry. I don't need to mention that's a failure. I'm not angry. “Wait until I get my hands on you, you soon-to-be-dickless dead man.” I'm furious. It's a german car, imported especially. Cost me an arm and a leg. Oh no. Tell me they didn't... They did. They slashed the tyres. “Sweet mother of a shit-eating maggot.” What kind of sick man would scratch an expensive car, and slash some innocent tyres? Wait, hang on, they weren't slashed. “What the fuck is this maggotry?” They were bitten. Great, that'll make my investigation simpler. I have to find who own a dog. When, I take the owner, I shove a crowbar in his mouth, and I open it. Simple. “What a wonderful way to start new day.” And it looks like I also forgot to bring some tranquillizer. Which means that if I go mad, nothing but my own self-control can stop me from burning the whole land. Self-control. Breath deeply. Calm down. “Need a coffee.”
 Take the map. Go to the local shop. Buy tool. And coffee. Come back here. Work. Try not to kill anyone on the way.  Explore the mansion. You're too angry to be scared, it's a good occasion for that. If you find a burglar, you can even beat him unconscious. Let's hope you find one.
[x] Take the map. Go to the local shop. Buy tool. And coffee. And a small, portable radio to not go insane from the silence. Come back here. Work. Try not to kill anyone on the way.
I clench my teeth. I have to calm down, there's no coffee, and my editor is not hiding somewhere in the vicinity to hunt me down and kill me. While I can easily endure the latter, the former is most unsatisfying. To put it in simple terms, the lack of coffee is creating in me the urge to kill someone with a blunt weapon. I sit against the car, and I try to relax. Okay, my car is kind of completely done for, and I can't use it any more. So I'm stuck here. Great. Fucking great. On another hand, I'm finally quiet and alone. And I have the perfect excuse to avoid my editor. Well, until he decide to come here himself, kick my door open, and punch me unless I give him the manuscript. Thinking about that, that's probably not a good thing. Perhaps I can call him or... “Ha right, I forgot about the lack of phones.” I really want to punch something in the nose. But I think it's better to use my energy to do something useful rather than running around and flipping the fuck out. I eat my last sandwich from yesterday, take a map, some money, a rucksack, my torch, and I start walking. Let's go! Toward new adventures! “As if I'm really going to scream something like that.” I'm really not in the mood. I hate walking, and I hate using a map. Mainly because my sense of direction is lying dead somewhere, and also because there's a goddamn fog covering the trail. “Wait a minute, a trail? But when I arrived, there was a road! A good old tarmac road!” I should probably avoid over-thinking about things like that. After all, yesterday, I was tired, and all those clichés things people are saying when they usually notice that something is wrong. Because that's the problem here, something is wrong.
I mean, COME ON! I don't have any fucking neighbours to fuck my morning, and my car was ruined! I bought an old mansion, and what I have here is a ruin! There's clearly something wrong! Namely the fact that I don't have any coffee. I'm just going to put everything in a box, sink the box in some concrete, go to that village, have a coffee, and start the day, peacefully, gracefully, politely. You asshole. Following the trail, I start walking.
For a romance writer, I sure have a lot of unusual interests. Would you believe me if I say that I'm a huge fan of Alan Wake? I know that's totally not what I'm supposed to be interested in, but that guy is just so good that it's criminal to not read his books. Sutter Kane, in the other hand, isn't as good. He's always trying to bring sex in his stories, and, in my opinion, it's not good. His obsession with that sometimes means that he's going to write a sex scene even through there's nothing serious to motivate it. And he also always refers to madness, using it as the perfect explanation to any unexplainable event happening in his books. In my opinion, that's cheap. I mean, a little girl loses her way in a forest, okay. She starts hallucinating, okay. But she ends up fighting the local avatar of Beelzebuth, I can't believe that. It's like writing a story where a young boy runs away from his mother into a basement, and ends up fighting the four apocalypse horsemen and the seven deadly sins. With his tears. That's just unbelievable. “Okay, so, according to this map, the village iiiiiiiis... right here!” And it's not. Wonderful. You call that fucking piece of shit a map?! I mean, it looks like someone threw some noodles at a wall, and said “hey, it's a map!”. I really need a coffee. And also a fucking landmark to know where the fuck I'm on that fucking map. “Prism-” I turn around. I think I just heard someone whispering, but when I look, there's nobody. “...” That's so cliché. So overused. I shouldn't be scared, right? But I am. I'm scared. And I don't like that. I'm supposed to be angry, furious after everyone, and mad enough to even kick a little girl. And instead of that, I'm frantically looking around, trying to find who just whispered in my- “Hello.” I jump.
“Well, that was amusing.” “Absolutely. I always planned to scream like a little girl, you just happened to be here.” “You were very convincing. Are you a comedian?” I grimace. I tried to keep up appearances by pretending, but the woman in front of me is too smart to fall for that. I hate smart peoples. “Not really. But what about you?” “Oh, I'm a teacher at the village.” Oh, good. Someone to help me. And a teacher no less. “Maybe you can help me then. I'm looking for that village.” I quickly glance at her. She's a real beauty, with a really bouncy chest, and a really bouncy butt. I would gladly kill someone to have a teacher like that. Her curves apart, she's really... unique. Yeah, unique. She has white-hair, with some blue highlights. That's really cute, but she's a little too old for that. To dye her hair, I mean. In my opinion, anyway. Speaking about that, how old is she? It's difficult to estimate someone's age when they have white hair. You tend to overestimate it. “Oh, it's really close.” “Why, thank you then.” “Why are you staring at me like like that? Is there a problem?” She stares at me questioningly with her deep brown eyes. I have to quickly find something. And I don't really to talk about whispers in the fog. “Where can I have a coffee?” Yes oh damn I'm awesome and I love myself! “You're... not from around here, are you?” I bite my tongue to avoid saying “what makes you think that, the map in my hand?” I can't be rude. “Really? Why do you think that?” She tries to grab my arm, but, without even thinking, I escape her grasp and I shove her back. She stares at me for a while, mouth wide opened, and then starts speaking again. “I'm sorry. But I wanted to warn you, you shouldn't stay here for too long.” I'm shocked by my overly aggressive answer. I should really control myself. “No, no, that's my fault, I shouldn't be that aggressive. But you can be quiet, I won't stay here for long.” Just the time to write my book, and I'll be gone. That shouldn't be too long. “Really? W-well then, I'll show you where to find the village.” She starts walking. Avoiding any physical contact. I'll probably die single. What a shame, even I can notice how pretty that woman is. “This is the Kirisame shop. It's a general store, so you'll probably find everything you need.” Says the teacher, while pointing a building that appeared out of nowhere while I was thinking. I hate when stuff appears out of nowhere. “You never told me your name, Miss...” “Kamishirasawa. Keine Kamishirasawa.” That a rather unusual name. But very fitting for a teacher. “Thanks for your help, Miss.” I move to enter in the shop, but she calls me again, half-shouting. “Wait! Do you have a place to live?” I smile, and I spin on myself to show her my face while moon-walking to the shop. “Yeah! I'm currently living in that mansion near the woods.” Miss Keine mutters something, but I can't hear.
The map is a fake. This map they gave me at the agent estate's is a fake. I was very careful during the trip back, I counted every step. And I can say that distances on this map are clearly underestimated. I don't know who did this map, but he made an awful job. Google could make a better map very easily. After buying my tools from the Kirisame shop (meeting said Kirisame during the process -it was very informative, and I can safely say that those people are yokels and slobs), I walked back to the house -to MY house- counting every step. That allows me to say that there are more than an hundred step between my house and the village. And that shitty map says they're almost side by side! “It's clearly not a good day.” Bah, why should I bother? From my visit to that yokel's shop, I brought back enough supplies to live by myself for a week, including a radio to not go totally mad from the loneliness. But more importantly, I had my coffee, and a crowbar to open those damn shutters.
 I shall focus on the kitchen first. If I can get a hot meal, it'll be easier for me to start writing, and leave this place.  I shall focus on the kitchen, while finishing my exploration of the mansion. I have to know if there are suitable rooms, I don't want to sleep again in the car.
[x] I shall focus on the kitchen, while finishing my exploration of the mansion. I have to know if there are suitable rooms, I don't want to sleep again in the car.
Well, I have a crowbar, and the vacuum cleaner's battery is full. Guess it's time to start working. What a bother. What I want is sitting in front of the TV, watching a porno film while drinking some alcohol, and I can't. Instead of that, I'm going to enter in that mansion of mine, because, yeah, it's MY mansion because I bought it, and I'm going to open those shutters, one after another. Mainly because I don't feel like living in a dark place, but also because that place is kind of unnerving. Always feels like something watching me. “Bah, can't be worse than staying in the car.” With that in mind, I put my bag in the car, locking it in the process, and I walk to the mansion, eager to start the real work.
Or so I thought. But it appears that I slightly underestimated the current state of this mansion. Namely, the rusty part. Why, you ask? Because it doesn't budge. That shutter doesn't budge. I tried opening it from the outside, it was too hard to reach. So I entered the mansion, I walked on the table after removing everything on it, I opened the window from the inside, and now, I'm trying to open the shutter from the inside. And that doesn't even budge. It's like they're welded together. “Oh for fuck's sake!” Frustrated, I quickly remove the crowbar and kick the shutters. “Gyaaouh!” Holding my foot, I scream pathetically in pain, before falling from the table, landing on the floor. Head first, of course, otherwise it's not funny. I'm pretty sure that, somewhere, a man just heard a huge 'bonk' while being unable to tell where it came from. Well, man, search no further! It was the nice meeting between Miss My Head and Mister Floor. And the winner is Mister Floor! “Such misfortune...” Whining in pain and humiliation, I stand up as fast as I can. In other words, I crawl back on the table, while trying to find where the torch landed. I must open those shutters somehow, it's really too dark in there. I mean, it's dark as if it was night outside, while in fact I'm pretty sure it's midday. “You made yourself a powerful nemesis today, shutter.” Clenching my teeth, I grab the crowbar, and I attack again. No, wait, I need a decent war scream first. “For the great justice!” I carefully place the crowbar between the wall and the shutter, and I kick it. The shutters breaks open, bringing light in the room.
And I stand here, petrified. For a second, no, for half a second, I think I saw someone, staring at me. But when the light came in, there was nobody. “...” I'm so shocked I don't even know what to do. My head is totally empty, as I try to understand. But there's nothing to understand. Absolutely nothing. So, why do I even bother? Since there's nothing to understand, there's nothing to worry about! Right?
I finally manage to find the torch. Just as I feared, it's stuck behind the cooker, just out of reach. “Shit.” Time to use that crowbar again. Where did I put it? “Ha, there.” Even with the light, I still feel uneasy. It's so silent in there. “Hey, wait! I bought a radio from the village!” Leaving the torch and the crowbar in the kitchen, I walk back to my car, I open the door, and I look for the small radio. I'm fairly certain it was in this bag, with the food... Ha, there it is!
I turn it on. Nothing but white noise. Bah, it's better than nothing. At least, I won't have to stand the silence any more. With the radio in my hand, I lock my car again, and I walk back to the mansion. “Hu?” I'm pretty sure I left the crowbar next to the cooker, but it looks like I was wrong, since it's not. “Where did it go?” No, wait, I'm stupid. Crowbars can't move. I probably kicked it somewhere while moving to get the radio. Bah, whatever, I'll just use something else. I carefully put the radio on the table, still emitting that irritating white noise. http://tindeck.com/listen/vded “What the hell?” I think I just heard something in the radio, but I'm not sure. Like everything related to this place, I'm not sure. Argh, fine. Since my crowbar is mysteriously missing, I guess I'll just use, mm, this! “What the hell is that?” I'm not even sure. It looks like a wok, but with holes in it. I don't understand its purpose at all. Whatever, it'll be useful.
With all my dexterity, I finally manage to get my torch back. Because I have nimble fingers. And also because I was furious after that cooker, and I angrily kicked it. Surprisingly enough, it moved by itself, freeing the torch. I'm seriously wondering if I can get my crowbar back by kicking something. It seems to be extremely useful in this mansion. In MY mansion, I mean. I bought it.
 To the first floor! Let's find a decent room!  To the basement! Screw the room, I need a tool!
[x] To the basement! Screw the room, I need a tool!
I really need some light. I can't stand this darkness. I need to open this mansion, to open each door and each window, one after another. But in order to do that, I'll need a tool. And since I mysteriously lost my crowbar, I'll probably have to do with what I have. I don't feel like going back to the village. I can probably use a lead pipe or something. But the question is, where can I find something like that? “In the basement.” Wonderful. That mansion is already giving me the creeps, I can't imagine how the basement is.
Okay, so now that's weird. For some reason, I can't access the basement from the mansion. The entrance is located outside. And it's locked, of course, because otherwise it would be too simple. Luckily, I found the key fairly quickly. It was on a wall, in the kitchen, with 'basement' written on it. For some reason, I'm ready to bet that the key will broke, or something like that. Oh, I was wrong. Good. But I'm not going to let the padlock here, I'm taking it. I really don't want to be locked in the basement. So, let's talk about the basement. First, it's dark. Second, it's a real mess. There are all kind of … things scattered everything. Third, it's really dark. Fourth, the floor is hard-packed surface, not concrete. Fifth, it's not dark like your usual basement. I mean, it's really dark. There are no windows, no glowing mushroom, nothing. The only source of light in the ambient darkness is my torch. It's a damn good thing I'm not afraid of the dark. Otherwise, I might be seeing things. For example, if I were afraid of darkness, I would be scared, because I would be thinking that this thing here just moved. And yet, when I look again, it's not moving. Hell, it's a pillar. It doesn't move. “Whatever.” I just need something strong enough to move those shutters. I can't live with just a kitchen, I need a bathroom, and a room to work and sleep. Luckily, I know that I can reach my goal with just brute strength, so things will be simple. I visit each room, I choose a few of them, I break the shutters open, and I clean those rooms. After that, I'll be able to start working on my book. “Lead pipe, lead pipe...” Heck, anything solid enough will do. ”play” I quickly turn. Between me and the door, there is someone standing.
>>26484 While it would be cool, we haven't encountered the Misty Lake at all, whether to cross over it or just pass by. Also, remember the voice while reading the map? It whispered Prism... So I'd hazard we're at the Prismriver Mansion.
>>26488 Canonically, the Prismriver Mansion (Ruined Western Mansion) is located somewhere near Misty Lake.. Which invalidates the lake argument. Hrm, thought. Could this possibly be Kana Anaberal's Mansion?
I'd like you to remember that protag never really visited the area. He just arrived, and went to the village. Besides, even if the mansion is near the Lake, it's possible (for someone with no sense of direction) to completely miss it. Especially if there's a fog. (There's also a chance that the writefag may be lazy and thought that the ruined mansion was near the Forest of Magic and never bothered to check until you brought this on, but that's just a probability.)
“Hello?” The intruder doesn't answer. It just stands here, not moving. Heck, I'm not sure if it's a real person or some kind of shadow trick. “Can I help you?” I try to sound friendly, but the truth is that I'm too scared to move. What if it's not a trick? What if- It starts moaning, while tilting its head, first slowly, then faster and faster, while moaning louder and louder. With a loud bang, the doors slam and the basement goes totally black.
As I frantically shake the torch, I hear a small and irritating noise, like a clicking. It takes me a while to understand that I'm the one making that noise. You see, my teeth are chattering. “...” I'm fairly certain I have a decent explanation for everything that happened, for example, it might be the wind of something like that. “...” Chattering so loudly. Clac clac clac clac. Can you hear me, thing-that-may-be-just-a-shadow-trick? Because I sure can. My tongue doesn't move, but my teeth do. Even if I clench my jaw, they're still chattering. You may ask, 'why are your teeth chattering?' and if you do, I'll say, 'because the torch is out'. You see, when I said that the basement went dark, it means that my torch too went off. And while I'm not really afraid of the dark, I find it quite unsettling to stand in darkness after a coincidence like this one. I mean, something appears out of nowhere, and then the door shut. What a coincidence, indeed! I shake the torch, trying to turn it on again. It doesn't work that well, but luckily, I still can see the light penetrating in the basement from the crack between the doors. I'm indeed truly lucky. And it's not like I really want to get the heck out this basement. Not at all. ”Quack.” I quickly turn, waving the torch in my hand totally randomly.
THUMP I hit something and, for a brief instant, the torch flashes again, giving me a good light on that person's face. I say person, and there's a reason for this. I run away, bashing through the door and leaving the basement. Behind me, I hear the door slamming again. When I look, the basement is closed again. But, quite frankly, I don't want to go back inside. With my hands shaking, I walk back to the car, I open it, grab a bottle of water, and I try to drink.
I should... I should probably wait a little before thinking about that. I'm pretty sure there's a good explanation for what happened back then. Maybe I was frightened by a wig hanging from the ceiling, or something like that. Of course, it also had a face, but maybe the fear had me hallucinating? “I-I-I-I m-m-m-m-mean there'ssss no way this mansion is r-r-really haunted...” God, I can't even speak right now. My hands are shaking, my teeth are chattering, and I have a slight headache coming. I need a drink. Not water, but alcohol. I need alcohol. Did I brought some? “Fuck.” I don't have any alcohol. I could really use some right now, and I don't have any. Wonderful. I guess I'll just sit in my car until I stop shaking. That'll take me a while. “What time is it?” Middle of the afternoon?! Already? There's really something I don't like. Except the basement, of course. And I'm not going back inside that basement, not any more. Speaking about the basement, what's wrong with the torch? I turn it on, and it works. So what the hell? Was it just off the whole time? But more importantly, what turned it off? I know I jumped when the door slammed, but I also know that I never turned the torch off, even accidentally. Speaking of slammed door, did I... Oh crap. I forgot to put the padlock back. A quick look informs me that the basement is now open. Again. That thing may be- “There's no thing, there's no thing...” I'm just going to leave my car, walk back to the basement, close the door, and put the padlock. Nothing can go wrong, right?
Slowly, I leave the car, and walk back to the basement. Slowly, carefully, while keeping an eye on the inside, I close both the door, and I put the padlock back. “Hey, you, what are you doing?” Says a female voice coming from behind me.
“That was really funny! I really like the way you screamed!” “...” “You look like you saw a ghost, by the way. You're really pale. Are you eating properly?” “...” “You're really not looking that good. And you're not talking. Are you feeling all right?” I try to speak, but my jaws are clenched too hard. I try to slap her, but my hands are too busy keeping my heart from jumping out of my chest. I try to not shake, but it's a failure. In the meanwhile, in front of me, there's a small girl with a trumpet, jumping around and talking like a hyperactive six years old kid. “So, yeah, I guess I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Merlin. Like the old wizard from the Arthur tale, you see, except that I'm not a wizard. I'm not a wizzard either, and this is terrible, for it would be funny. But I think I'm forgetting why I'm here. Oh, right! I'm here to grab my sister's keyboard, because, you see, she's really smart and stuff, but she sometimes forget things. She's the kind of person, as they say, planning a move three step ahead, except that when she do that, she forget about the coffee you made for her, and by the time she remembers it, it's cold.” “Uh...” “There's also my second sister, which is really honest and stuff, but is too serious about everything. The other day, I was like playing some good old song, and she arrived and commented how the guy who composed said song was horribly killed by a bear. She's not exactly gloomy either, she just have trouble noticing happy things!” Isn't what 'gloomy' actually means? Still with a hand on my chest to keep my heart inside, I manage to unclench my jaws. “Excuse me, but who are you?” The little girl stares at me, still smiling cheerfully. “I already said my name. I'm Merlin, like the enchanter. I remember when I discovered that I had the same name when that old wiseman, I kind of read the whole tale in two hours.” I'm not sure what to do.
 “You have business here? I bought this house, so...”  “Hey, can you go inside that basement and bring me something?”  “Merlin? That's not a name. Just a surname. Or a nickname.”  “Shoo shoo, go away.”  “Allow me to introduce myself then.”
======================================= Without proofread, without delay, here comes Merlin!
[x] “Allow me to introduce myself then.” -[x] "Wait, why would your sister's piano be in here? Were you the previous tenants?" -[x] “Is it, by any chance, in the basement? Because if you’re going there, could you bring me something?”
>Fun fact: "Poltergeist" is a German term. It means noisy ghost.
True, I'm not disputing that. But just calling them noisy ghosts is a misnomer, as they are not exactly the same.
Compare Gensokyon ghosts to poltergeists. Yuyuko still has her soul, and is considered the same being as the Yuyuko who sacrificed herself. (Regardless of memory loss) Youmu, whose Myon half is literally half her soul, is similar. When she eventually dies, she will become a full ghost, with all her soul in her new form.
Poltergeists, on the other hand, are not the souls of their former persona incarnate. The Prismrivers were created by Layla after losing them, but are metaphysical constructs. They look, act, and speak as if they were the original girls, but they are not the same.
Basically, ghosts = spirits of the dead, while poltergeists = constructs in the form of spirits, whether or not they are based on the deceased.
Small distinction. But enough to allow her to say that she isn't a ghost.
A poltergeist is hiding in this pictureAnonymous!u.ddykRmDU2012/04/16 (Mon) 21:34No. 26535▼
[x] “Allow me to introduce myself then.” -[x] "Wait, why would your sister's piano be in here? Were you the previous tenants?" -[x] "Why do you have a trumpet with you?"
That girl is way too energetic, even for me. My only wish is to make her shut her goddamn mouth while I take care of that mansion, but, hey, I can't. I have to be polite, like a real man. “Merlin, right? Nice to meet you.” Slightly bowing, I give her my name. “That's a really funny name. But, hey, thinking about that, that's kind of normal, since you're a foreigner. It makes sense for you to have a strange name.” I clench my teeth, but I hold my tongue. “Sorry about that. But by the way, mind explaining why your sister's piano is in my house?” “YOUR house? You bought it? Are you trying to repair it? Good luck then, because we've given up on that a long time ago, but I guess that's not really what you want to know. So anyway, my sister's piano is in there because we lived in there for quite a while.” “You don't have any parents?” “Oh well, we had another sister, who kind of acted like a mother, but it was a long time ago.” Totally drowned in Merlin's constant soliloquy, I automatically ask. “What happened?” “We lost her. One day, I asked my sister, and she said 'she's gone Merlin', so we lost her.” Lost her? What does she mean by that? Put her in a closet and forgot about her? That explains perfectly why the house stinks so much. “I'm sorry, but when I bought the house, they told me it was empty.” “Uh? Ah, that! No problem! No worry! We're not here often, we just come here when we don't know what to do!” That's not really what I wanted to talk about, but I'm not going to talk about that with her. I just hope her sisters are not as tiring. “Yeah, right, but why the trumpet?” This time, she frankly stares at me like a kitty watching a huge ball of wool. “To play. You know? I bring it to my mouth, I blow it, and it makes nice sounds!” I feel like I wasted my breath by asking the most stupid question I could ever ask. No, wait, I'm being silly. It coulda been worse. At least, I didn't ask her if she's a ghost. That would have been silly. “Fine. Do whatever you want, I'll be here.” “Allright then!” With that being said, the cheerful girl just leaves. “...” I can't really kick them, right? Even if I bought the house, I can't really kick them out. Especially if they're orphans. It's a really sad thing to grow up without a decent parental figure. I know what I'm talking about here. … I'm not going to kick them out. If Merlin's right, they're not here that often, so I'll be alone often enough to write my book.
I look at my hands. They're not shaking any more. Good. I look at the sky. The foggy morning went, replaced by a sunny afternoon. And now that I'm here, under the sun, I realize how coward I am. I mean, I just got scared of some shadow trick, and I almost pissed myself back then. “I should write it in my next book.” What about that? A man fall in love with a ghost. But the ghost doesn't, and, at the end of the story, kills him. That's original, and that would be like mocking your usual romance novels. Except that I'm the one writing those cheesy romance novels you give to your daughter for her birthday. I can't really make fun of myself by writing exactly the opposite of what I'm usually writing. “Well, I can still write it for my own amusement, and keep it for myself.” That's a good idea. Or that WOULD be a good idea. But unfortunately, I'm short on time and willpower, and I'm already wasting them both trying to repair that house. Only an idiot would write two stories at once. “Either an idiot, either an arrogant fool. And I'm neither of these.” I dunno why, but that seems extraordinary arrogant coming from my mouth.
Mmm... I don't feel like working on that house any more. Not today. Instead of that, I feel like writing. Walking back to my car, I begin locking for my old typewriter. That thing is old and stuff, but it has a major advantage. It doesn't need energy. I quickly settle in the kitchen, clean a table (by dropping everything on the floor), bring a chair, and I get into position.
Okay, I feel like writing, I'm in position, I have ink and paper. So, what should I write about? I'm mostly writing cheesy romance stuff, but somehow I don't feel like writing one just now. This mansion, in fact, this whole area is kind of oppressive. Well, maybe I'm overreacting. After all, Merlin is friendly (maybe a little too much), and that teacher with an impossible name I met at the village was kind of friendly too. Maybe I should write about them. Some kind of diary. That'll get me in the mood for some serious writing. It was a foggy day I met with Miss Kaimirishaiswa. At first, I was totally unable to pronounce her name properly, and it appears that I'm also unable to write her name properly. Her name was something horrible, but her surname was Keine. Very surprising, isn't it? I'm fairly certain it means 'no' in German, but I'm not sure. Just like her name, her body is unusual too, but this time in a good way. She's the kind of woman you met at a parents-teacher meeting, and when you see her, you think 'damn I want to go back to school'. Or so I suppose, I never went at any parents-teacher meeting. I lean back on my chair. I'm not exactly proud of what I'm writing, but the sound of the typewriter helps me relax. Smiling to myself, I raise my eyes to look at the ceiling. Damn, too bad that thing isn't transparent, otherwise I would be able to get a glimpse of Merlin's panties. 'Relax', I whispered in her ear. She doesn't. Instead, my whisper only makes her blush more, as if she understands the situation she's gotten herself into. Accidentally trapping herself in a closet with that perfect stranger was really stupid. No, it's still stupid, and it'll still be stupid, even once she's out. I do my best to calm her, but the closet being really small, we're chest against chest. 'Please relax, Miss Kimisharsiwa'. I say that, but my voice lacks in conviction. If you're asked why, that huge tent I have in my pants is the reason. And judging by Keine's heavy breath- I pull out the page from the typewriter, and I quickly tear it into pieces. This is totally uncalled for. I shouldn't be writing such things, I shouldn't even think it. What am I, some kind of dog in heat? I should calm myself, think properly about things, and plan things. Looking around, I decide it's time to give up writing for today. The afternoon is already almost over, I should clean a little and prepare the dinner. And after that, well, I'll go get a sleeping bag. “I'm going!” I scream like a little girl when that other little girl screams that while standing right behind me. “You where were you little-” “Oh, by the way, I really like your novel, you should finish it! Good bye!” Smiling innocently, the hyperactive girl walks away, with a small piano under her arm. And worse, SHE SAW EVERYTHING. Once I'm sure she's gone, I start swearing vigorously at everything. Not only I was goofed by a little girl, but I also got myself carried out, and now I regret it. “I regret everything! I regret everything I've ever done!” Shared between anger, rage, humiliation and sexual frustration, I keep on swearing, lamenting, insulting, crying and screaming. It was really humiliating. Like being caught in the toilets by your college crush, because all boy bathroom were occupied. “I hate everything. Especially that Merlin girl.”
Still swearing, I start preparing a cold dinner. I was ready to make something good, but when I saw how dirty the cooker, I decided 'fuck that'. My third cold meal. But I shouldn't be picky. At least, it's a complete meal, not a bunch of breads with some industrial lettuce and an insipid slice of ham. “Hooray.” Stay positive. I have to be positive. As positive as a whore's pregnancy test. Finally finishing my cold meal, made of boiled egg, cold meat and some bread, I go back to my car, grab my sleeping bag, lock my car, walk back to the mansion, lock the mansion, lay the sleeping on the kitchen's floor, and sleep.
Well, I try to. But then I remember that I left my torch outside. So I go outside, quickly, before it gets dark. And then I notice that the kitchen's window is wide opened, and I can't close it, so I'm in a curled up position, in my sleeping bag, trying to sleep despite the cold draught. And also trying to ignore those weird noises outside. As if someone was walking around the mansion, not coming in, but not leaving ever. Just, walking around, to make sure nobody is escaping. I could say that I'm scared, but that would be a gross underestimation.
 Stay awake. If this (or those?) things are coming in, I must be awake.  Try to sleep. In the worst case, I'll be killed in my sleep.  Be brave. I grab my lamp, and I go scream 'Go away!' through the door.
[x] Hide somewhere inside the mansion and try to sleep. A closet, bathroom or enclosed space under the staircase will do. Put some empty cans on the kitchen windowsill, they will clatter loudly if the horrible shadow entity enters the building. Have a frying pan at arm’s reach, it will serve as a suitable defensive weapon.
>>26536 You know, this suggestion is begging for either Merlin or Keine (or one of the sisters) to walk in on us and ask what is wrong with our heads. Let's do it. [x] Hide somewhere inside the mansion and try to sleep. A closet, bathroom or enclosed space under the staircase will do. Put some empty cans on the kitchen windowsill, they will clatter loudly if the horrible shadow entity enters the building. Have a frying pan at arm’s reach, it will serve as a suitable defensive weapon.
If you're not accepting write-ins, then instead: [x] Be brave. Grab my lamp, and go scream 'Go away!' through the door.
After all, I'm pretty sure that our Authoranon thinks it's just Merlin trying to get on his nerves again. It's not like there are monsters on the prowl.
Far be it from me to make this assumption, but considering our anon goes from thinking that Merlin is a cute pitiable little girl, to wanting to catch a glimpse of her undergarments, and finally to hating her very essence since she caught his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar, one might think he's tsundere for the kleine Mädchen.
Oh, also: >This time, she frankly stares at me like a kitty watching a huge ball of wool. If she was watching him like my cat watches one, expect him to be leaped upon, tossed around the floor, and strung all over the room. All implications of which amused me.
[x] Hide somewhere inside the mansion and try to sleep. A closet, bathroom or enclosed space under the staircase will do. Put some empty cans on the kitchen windowsill, they will clatter loudly if the horrible shadow entity enters the building. Have a frying pan at arm’s reach, it will serve as a suitable defensive weapon.
If that isn't acceptable, then: [x] Try to sleep. In the worst case, I'll be killed in my sleep.
File 133465202587.jpg - (14.58KB, 176x147, This is the biggest ball of wool I saw.jpg)
Just passing by to say that I have nothing against that write-in.
It's hard to find a good pictureAnonymous!u.ddykRmDU2012/04/17 (Tue) 22:53No. 26541▼
[x] Hide somewhere inside the mansion and try to sleep. A closet, bathroom or enclosed space under the staircase will do. Put some empty cans on the kitchen windowsill, they will clatter loudly if the horrible shadow entity enters the building. Have a frying pan at arm’s reach, it will serve as a suitable defensive weapon.
Oh, why should I bother myself? After all, it's not like I'm afraid of the dark, or not like there's some kind of tentacle thing out there, waiting for me to come out. That's probably just Merlin, playing outside. Yeah. That huge thing walking outside is probably that little girl from before. “Yeah.” So, why should I be scared? I'm not afraid of a little girl!
However, I am afraid of something huge walking around. I'm not staying here. I'll just grab my torch, my sleeping bag, and crawl somewhere else. “Hu...” Where the hell is that little piece of shit? I carefully put it next to my head just in case, and I can't find it! Did it rolled somewhere else? Bah. It doesn't matter. I can find my way very easily! I'll just crawl out of my sleeping bag, silenly fold it, and go elsewhere to find another place to sleep. This is what was supposed to happen. What happened was really different. In a desperate struggle to get out of my sleeping bag, I accidentally send my head against the cooker, causing a huge commotion as everything fall. And fall where, exactly? Right on my head, of course, otherwise it wouldn't be funny.
I wake up, coughing.. I'm covered in dirty kitchenware, and for some reason, I have my torch in my mouth, even through I don't remember putting that long, thick thing in my mouth. I quickly spit it, and I raise my eyes to look at the sky through the window. The sun is quite high, it's probably already midday. I guess I really screwed up, I feel tired, and I have a huge headache. What a really wonderful way to start a day. Shoving the kitchenware aside, I kick the sleeping bag away. It was stupid to begin with. “Mmm...” Groaning in pain, I notice something very strange on the floor. Strange marks on the floor. As if someone pulled a heavy furniture, scratching the floor and making those marks. The strange part is that those marks aren't straight at all. On the contrary, they're turning and twisting like a drawing.
My body freezes in terror when I realize that those marks were made around my body while I was asleep. You know, like those chalk things on murder scene. And that's impossible. I mean, I was covered with pans and various kitchenware! So either someone removed everything, scratched the floor, and put everything back, either... I don't know. I don't understand. There are marks all around the spot I was sleeping, and yet it was impossible to make them! I lie face downwards, trying to see exactly what kind of scratch this is. I almost scream in disgust when I find a small red and white thing, stuck between two wood tiles. “Aw, shit, that's disgusting!” A nail. There's a snail stuck between those tiles. So that means someone entered in my house while I was sleeping, removed all the kitchenware covering me, scratched the floor, losing a nail in the process, put all the pans back on me, and left. Probably after putting my torch back on my mouth. There's obviously a legitimate explanation for everything. I just hope I'll learn it before dying from a heart attack.
So, what's the plan for today? What's the priority?  Go to hicksville find informations.  Rehabilitating the house goes first.  I should work on my book.
======================== Sometimes, things don't go as planned. Especially if you try to move around in a dark room while being in a sleeping bag. And even more if you are clumsy. And even more if there is a [YAHOEL] around.
Haha, Koishi, in the /border/? Now this is certainly interesting. So, she was the one roaming about outside? Or was she the one who moved all the stuff? I'd say the latter, as she's not one I'd expect to let slip her presence. Unless she did it on purpose. Oh well, we shall see.
Still, I'm torn between two options. We need to go to the human village hicksville and find out about this location. Miss Keine did seem to recognize the location, and might know that Merlin girl. Or why there was a huge creature stalking around outside.
On the other hand, we still haven't taken stock of the mansion much. We still don't have a emergency bunker bedroom, so perhaps we should locate one. After all, then we would be able to lock the door and keep anyone from putting more flashlights in our mouth.
Still... knowledge is power, and searching for a room would not take long at all. So I would recommend:
[????] Look closely at the scratches. Do they mean anything, or are they just random markings on the floor? [????] Go to hicksville find informations from Miss Keine/random hicks. -[????] Inquire about Merlin and her sisters. Who are they, and why are they living alone in your mansion? -[????] Ask if there are any lions/tigers/bears etc in the woods, as you thought you saw something last night -[????] Find out where a doctor is. While your head injury wasn't too bad, you might want to have it looked at. And it's always a good idea to know where medical care is. [????] If/When you finish your business in town, explore the mansion more thoroughly. You need to find a proper place to bed down. Preferably one with a lock. -[????] Keep any physical activity down for today. Nothing more than basic cleaning. Do not want to exacerbate any potential wound from that bloody pot. -[????] If you do have time left over, write as much as you like. Just keep one eye open for potential visitors. We don't want a repeat of last time, now do we?
Vote called for the Hickstown option. Don't worry, there's still time to visit some important people, and ask about informations.
Also, Noroi is a good movie. It's like a mixture of Marble Hornets, Blair Witch Project, Higurashi When They Cry, and it starts kinda like Cannibal Holocaust. But you should watch it yourself, for I'm probably not a good critic.
I'm fairly certain there is a decent explanation for everything that happened. But I don't think I'm smart enough to find it. I mean, I'm writing romance stories. Not closed-room mystery. My books aren't stories about murders or anything like that, they are stories about a troubled soul finding someone it can trust blindly. I'm often called a romantic liar by the critics, but what can I do? I want to believe in love. Does that makes me a liar? I don't know, and I can't answer. This is the kind of question you ask to a god, not to a man.
Oh hell. I'm not going to stay here today. I need more things, and, quite frankly, I don't feel like spending my time in that old, dusty house. I need fresh air, otherwise I'll get sick, and I'm ready to bet five thousands yens that there's no clinic in hickscity. So if I'm sick, I'm screwed. Walking by my car, I quickly takes my things and I go, not even giving a shit about the new marks on my car. I had marks all around my lifeless body, so I don't care about my car. “I never noticed there was a lake just here.” Yeah. For some reason, there's a huge lake next to my mansion, and apparently, I completely missed it the first time I visited. I'm really absent-minded, I guess.
Haaa, welcome back to Hickstown. No TV, no beer, no brothel. What a perfect place. “Hi back, mate. Forgot something?” Ah crap. Hicktown's general store's owner remembers me. Better watch my mouth, I don't want to be on his black list. “Kind of. Mostly a snack, and also some informations.” “The snack's'an easy task, mate. But if you wanna information, you better pester the teacher.” “You mean miss Klashikari?” “Hakurei crap, no! It's Kamishirasawa. Remember this, mate, or you'll just be a piece of cold meat once she gets her hands on you.” “All right then. Where can I find Miss Kaimirishasiwa?” “Right'n the school, mate. Follow the screams!” “Thanks mate.” “No problem. But by the way, you wanted a snack?” “You have something solid?” “We don't have those delicate and effeminate food here, mate! Our food will keeps you running for the whole day!” Exactly what I need.
That man was right. He sold me only one rice cake, but damn! That was a huge one. “Huur!” Loudly burping, I try to find my way to the school. It's very easy, by the way. Just like any school, you just have to follow the screams. No, that's not what I mean! I'm talking about scream of joy! Kids playing around! Innocent stuff like that! Little girl playing doctor, and stripping each other and then- I really need a girlfriend. It's necessary for my mental balance. Shaking my head to get rid of those lusty thoughts, I walk in the school, ignoring the kids playing in the playground. WELL, OF COURSE THEY'RE PLAYING! I'm such an idiot. What else are you supposed to do in a playground, except playing? I enter in the classroom, and there she is. The perfect woman. Too bad she's spending her time with a bunch of kids unable to notice how hot their teacher is. “Miss Kamiha- I mean Miss Teacher?” Raising her eyes from her desk, she stares at me for a short while. “I remember you. You visited yesterday, right?” “Yes. Sorry about my intrusion, I don't want to bother you-” “But you are anyway. Please be as quick as possible, I'm sadly very busy right now.” “I'm looking for informations about-” “Go see Akyuu.” And then she points at the door. I sheepishly follow. That was incredibly rude, now that I think about it. I barge in during her break, and I bother her with my nonsense. I kind of want to get back in to apologize, but it would be improper.
“Hi back, mate! Mind if I ask why you're here?” “I forgot to buy another crowbar. And do you have some bleach?” “Yeah, mate, but what for?” “Getting my house clean.” “Best use ever, mate!” “One more thing...” “Everything 'cept my wife!” “Where can I find a person called Akyuu?” “The Hieda? Now that's really tricky, mate! Find a house with 'Hieda' written on it.” “Hieda? As in millet field?” “Exactly.” “Thank you!” “Hey, wait! Your bleach and your crowbar!” “Ah, right!”
With the bleach in my pocket and the crowbar in my hand, I walk around, looking for a house with “millet field” written on it. This is a really easy task. After all, it's not like every person in this village is named after some grain or some vegetable. It's not like people in this village are mostly farmer. NOT AT ALL. And this is silly to think otherwise.
Aaaah, there we go! No, wait, I mean... Aaaaah, there I go! This is the good house! There's “Hieda” written on it, and there's a doormat with written on it “brush your shoes on it or I'll brush your teeth with it”. Such a good taste this person has! I can't wait to meet him! I'm fairly certain we're going to get along together perfectly! “Anyone there?” I knock at the door. There's no answer. I knock again. Well, what do you know, still no answer. “Only a fool would retry in the same situation, expecting a different outcome.” Well, I can't really wait here, can I? I guess I'm just going to invite myself inside.
I am truly a fool. I should have planned this before entering. Of course, anyone seeing a stranger in his own house would be startled. Especially if said intruder is holding a crowbar, and is waving it randomly. In my defence, her scream scared me. After the weird night I had, I wasn't really awake, so when I heard her, I was really scared, and I started waving the crowbar around. It's probably just after this that she threw something at me. It broke when colliding with my head, but that doesn't really mean my head went unharmed. On the contrary. I was knocked out cold. Things from this land are really in love with my head.
>>26559 I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't understand the reference at all. I supposed at first it was a reference to Homestuck's land of heat and clockwork, then I though it was a reference to Mount and Blade: Fire and Sword, but honestly, I don't think it is.
Also, I planned to update quickly, but stuff happened (Tribes Ascend finally worked and is FUCKING SLOW, I found a new mod for Warband with snowmen and santa claws, and my life is so interesting I'm going to keep writing about it rather than writing a story, and I'm also waiting for my TOEIC result to see if I can be considered as bilingual or not) so please forgive me for the delay.
I'm dreaming. A man is standing in the middle of nowhere. All around him, nothing but sand. Yellow sand. Golden sand. But still sand. The old man sighs deeply. For him, there's no other way to leave this cursed place. His hand reaches for the stone in his pocket. Curing himself for his own stupidity, the old man wishes. Please, bring him back home. He has nothing to do here. This is not his country. This is not his world. His other hand reaches for the cross hanging from his neck. He begs for forgiveness. And I wake up.
“I'll tell you, maybe I was overreacting, but you have to admit that a foreigner breaking in your house with a crowbar is not something I'm used to!” I wince. When the girl saw me falling, she brought me a pack of ice. Where she obtained it, I have no idea, but my head doesn't hurt any more, so I don't care. “Okay, fine, that's my fault. But nobody answered when I knocked at the door, and I panicked.” “And when you panic, you break in?” “Pipe down! I just head butted your teapot, I don't feel like being bawled at by a little girl.” “I'll have you know that since you're the one breaking in, you're the one piping it down! Am I clear?!” “Fine, FINE!” It's not supposed to happen. I mean, I'm being scolded harshly by a little girl. That's not what's supposed to happen.. “That's better. So, now that you explained, mind telling me who you are and why you're here to begin with?” She says, arms akimbo. That girl sounds so confident, she could easily show any adult I know a thing or two. “I'm just here for informations. I tried to ask that teacher, Miss Kamikakushi, or something like that, and she sent me here.” And I tell her my name. “All right. First, it's Kamishirasawa. Not Kamikakushi. Second, you should start by the important business first.” “I consider my well-being as more important than informations.” “You shouldn't, young man. Knowledge is power.” Was I just called 'young man' by a little girl? “Hey, just wait you little-” Not listening, the girl leaves the room, and comes back with a huge scroll. “So, you want informations. That's very vague. What do you want to know? About the locals? About the Purple Lady? About Miss Kamishirasawa?” “Hu-” “Or is it about a location rather than a person? You're interested by that lake near the village? Oh, well, I say 'near', but in fact it's kind of far away. Everything is so different on a map. I should travel myself, but that's too dangerous.” “W-well, in fact...” “So, what do you want to know?” “Ah? Hu... W-well, I bought that mansion near the lake, and I wanted to know if there was something strange about it, because I heard things in the wood at night?” “You heard things?” “Yes. Huge things walking near the house.” The girl's stare is becoming really unsettling. “You're an outsider, right?” “Yes, but I still bought this mansion legitimately.” “I believe you. Now, let me check...” No longer looking at me, the girl starts reading the huge scroll. Or it looks like she is, but her eyes aren't moving.
She's not reading. She's preparing her answer. That revelation strikes me. She asked if I was an outsider before, right? Is she going to lie to me? Or is she going to tell me the truth? “I have nothing to say.” “What?” “You heard things, right? So, you're looking for informations about a noise. I can't help you.” Thinking about it, the teacher sent me here, but forgot to mention how that girl is supposed to help me. “Okay, drop the noise. Is there anything about the mansion?” “Do you think it's haunted?” I would like that girl to answer me frankly instead of asking me. “Nah. No chance. Ghosts don't exist.” There's a brief smile on the girl's lips. “Of course, of course. Well, I have nothing else to add. Sadly, I'm mostly into legends, and everyday matters aren't really falling within my competences.” “Oh. Mind telling me more about those legends?” “Of course I don't.” I'm pretty sure she's lying. She knows something, something she doesn't want me to discover. Meh. It's just a little girl. I can easily get round her.
As I walk back to my mansion, I suddenly realize something. I'm a fool. I mean, I'm a grown-up adult. I'm used to deal with angry editors, furious neighbours, and crazy fans (actually, no, since I don't have any fan). And yet, I just got owned by a little girl. Owned in a literal sense. During the whole discussion, she was the one talking, and I was the one listening. After two minutes, I completely forgot about my questions. So, in the end, here I am, walking back home, with my hands full of crowbar, my backpack full of suspicious cleaning solutions and my head still full of questions. With that millet girl's sudden aggression, I completely forgot why I came here to begin with, and in the end, I only asked one question. About that thing in the night. And I have so many questions to ask. About Merlin, for example. And also if there's a doctor near. I mean, things from this place are in love with my head, they can't resist the urge to kiss it, causing minor annoyance and major headache. “Everybody out of the goddamn way!” I raise my eyes to look at MY mansion again. It's impressive. I admit that, at first, I wasn't really sure about that. Usually, you build your own house to fit your taste, you see? You don't buy someone else's house. But I've been told that this one was worth it, and that it would be difficult to rebuild a new one. Feng Shui and stuff. Apparently you can't build whatever you want. “...” For just a second, I saw something through one second floor window. It's probably just my imagination. “Funny. If I were someone else, I would be thinking 'that's one overused horror film line', but luckily I'm myself, ha ha ha!” But I'm still talking alone. So I'm not feeling that good. But I'd rather claw my own throat with my nails than admitting it. That mansion was freaking expensive, there's no way in hell I'll leave because I saw a few things here and here.
So, I'm going to roll up my sleeves, and get some work done before night.  Focus on the kitchen. Turn it into a living room.  Go back to the basement.  Explore the first floor. Random exploration.  Go to the second floor. Make sure nobody broke in while you were out.
========================== I'll try to draw a map of the ground floor later.
Hooray! You're back! You know, this guy just keeps on tempting fate, and it's still funny.
As for what to do... I'm torn. We could either explore the first floor and make sure that there are no more objects that want to kiss us on the head down there. We'd be safer at least, and liable to survive longer. Plus aren't we still sleeping in the kitchen? On the other, we want to make sure that nobody is upstairs. Although, it could just be Merlin. How did she sneak up on us in the first place? Does she have a key to the mansion. Would make sense if she lived here.
Plus, I'm sensing a time discrepancy in the options. Remodeling the kitchen wouldn't take that long, but it would take a good bit of time. On the other hand, exploring the bottom floor and checking for a visitor on the top wouldn't take nearly as long. By that logic, I'm assuming that we'll have a Mansion Only Encounter. And between the two points, I'll choose the obvious one over the one not. (This is assuming that we'll only be exploring; if we explore/search and clean at the same time, it will take longer)
[????]Go to the second floor.
Besides, even if it isn't Merlin, didn't she say she had sisters?
>>26593 That's a bit complicated. According to my dictionnary, in american, ground floor = first floor. And of course, in english, it's different. So, yeah, there's the basement the ground floor, the first floor, and the second floor. So far, authoranon explored the ground floor and the basement. Next update, he'll explore the second floor, and ditch the first floor.
>>26594 Aye, I gotcha, just wanted to make sure. Besides, I live here in the states, and I know of plenty of buildings that have a separate main floor, ground floor, and first floor. and sometimes they even change order, so it is never a good rule of thumb in my experience.
Thanks for clarification though.
It's all about stairsAnonymous!u.ddykRmDU2012/05/04 (Fri) 00:03No. 26598▼
Well, I would like to, just in case, make sure I'm not imagining things that aren't here. I mean, I know I'm not crazy, but I don't really want to work while being unsure about the following question. Said question being: “Did someone slaughtered a goat in there? No seriously, I wanna know!” God damn it, it stinks like a butchered animal shelter!
Wait, I'm being distracted! That was not the question! The real question was the following: “Did someone broke into my house while I was out?” This is kind of worrying. On another hand, I should probably lock the door, instead of leaving it open. Emphasis on the “probably”. Because there's a chance that I might have lost the key. Probably.
So, anyway, I throw my backpack in my car, keeping only the crowbar and the torch. The torch is to see what's going on. The crowbar... well, let's say I don't believe in ghost. But at the same time, if it's not a ghost, it can probably kill me, so I need to be able to defend myself.
I enter in my mansion again. I should be used to it by now. But I'm not. I still have some kind of bad feeling each time. I don't know if it's apprehension, fear, or simply knowing how difficult it'll be to clean all that mess and turn that thing into an inhabitable house. Turning my torch on, I swing it around. Is it me, or is the mansion darker than before? It's probably me. But just in case, let's first visit the kitchen. Opening the door, I immediately notice something weird. “What the hell is this shit?” First, the shutters are closed. Again. And this is not right. I mean, I had to freaking KICK them to force them open. And yet, they're back in their original position, albeit nothing happened. Just to make sure, I poke them with the crowbar. Yep. Still stuck. Second now. Do you remember those marks on the floor I mentioned before? You know, the one looking like scratches? Well, they're gone! Yep. Gone. I'm all fours, staring at the floor with attention, and there's nothing. Was I freaking dreaming all this? Na, impossible.
I'm not freaked out. Not at all. Turning my attention back to the table, I notice with a relieved sigh that my radio is still there. It's already disturbing to notice that things are changing, I don't want my own things to disappear too. Especially when I'm buying them legit. I turn the radio on. Only static. That's still better than that eerie silence.
I can do it. I accumulated enough courage to do it. It's within my “can do” radius. Because I'm human. I'm the result of 18,000 years of history, starting with the cavemen, and ending with me, right now. My ancestors chased mammoth for lunch, flipped middle finger at mother nature, and ended ruling everything on Earth. I can do it. I can climb those stairs. Because I'm human. I'm proud to be human. I lift my foot, and carefully put it on the first step. It's creaking. Loudly. You can probably hear it from the USA. But I don't care. I'm going to keep climbing. Until I reach the second floor. It's just a matter of time, and courage. And I'm brave. I'm brave enough to exile myself in a remote area to write my book peacefully, I'll be brave enough to explore my own goddamn house.
What do I find? Rats. Insects. Crawlers. Dust. Dirt. As far as the eye can see. Or, should I say, as far as the torch can reach. I can make that house a good place to live. But I won't be able to do it alone. I'll need a lot of help. And unfortunately, I'm not that rich. I'll just make sure there's no problem up there. After that, I'll start writing my book. I'll need money to restore this mansion. That book will be the key. I'm just in a pinch. I'll clench my teeth, and everything will be all right. Everything will be fine. After all, even if there is indeed someone up there, you can resolve your problems by discussion. And if that doesn't work, I have a crowbar. I'll never use it. It's just to defend myself, and for show. It's a way to tell “I can bash your skull open, but I'm not”. A dissuasion weapon. A country can use an atomic bomb. I'm using a crowbar. Different scales.
I made it to the second floor. That place is darker than night, I swear it. The only goddamn light in the whole floor is my torch. Looking around, I found the suspicious window from before. “...?” I don't understand. The whole floor is completely dark. And yet, unlike the ground floor, there are no shutters. I mean, all the windows are dirty and stuff, but they're still transparent. I can see through them. But light can't pass through them. From the window, I can see the sun slowly setting. But the room is still incredibly dark. It's like the light does not enter in the room. And that's impossible. I'm not a scientist, but I know a thing or two about physics. That whole floor is a physical aberration. What's the next step? A non-euclidian space? A room bigger in the inside?
I move the torch around. I was right to call this a room. Because it is, indeed, someone's room. A girl, I think. Or probably a woman. I'm not sure. There's a four-poster bed against the wall, facing the window. In other words, the girl using this room was able to watch the sun setting while going to sleep. How poetic. It was obviously a girl. Still looking around, I find a huge wardrobe. Not gonna open it. Don't want to have my nose in some girl's panties. Having an erection now is the last thing I want. On the bedside table, there's a little box. I open it. “Woah!” Amazing! It's still working! That music box is still working! But it's kind of eerie to listen to a song like that while standing in pitch black darkness. Oh! Wait! That's not why I came here! I came here to look if there was someone here! “Hello? Is there anyone here?” I almost scream when I hear someone replying. “Yyyyes! I'm down there! Where are you?” That's Merlin. Shouting from the ground floor. Just Merlin. Can you stop beating so hard, Mister Heart?
Well, look like there's nobody here. I should probably go down. Time to have a nice little chat with her. Mainly about the fact that she spied on me while I was writing. And also about her and this house.
 Take the music box.  Don't take the music box.
================================ 02:00AM. Bastion, Porphecy of Pendor and Tribes Ascend got my attention. Just try to shoot a Champagne cork jumping everywhere with 5 FPS. God, Rucks' voice is freaking awesome. I wish I could talk like him. Instead of that, I speak like a foreigner trying to imitate David Tennant. That update was written while listening to "The Mancer's Dilemna". I'll start working on the /eientei/ update tomorrow. Well, today in fact, since it's past midnight. I'm so tired.
Huh, could have sworn we'd have an encounter here. Oh well, I suppose this has promise still. I just wonder whose room this is. I'm betting Lunasa. Don't know why. I've just a feeling that this isn't Lyrica's or Merlin's.
But still... take the music box, and we have a potential discussion topic with Merlin. Such as asking to whom it belongs. On the other hand, I'm thinking that if there was a ghost, and the only thing noticeable in your room is a music box, the removal of it might cause it to pop out. And if I'm right, we might score don't scare me so much points with who it does belong to.
That's besides the point. Authoranon knows that there are no such things as ghosts, so there is no reason to not to take it. Granted, those girls are living here, but there is no indication that this is their room, as it may be simply abandoned like the rest of the house. If it is theirs, you'd gladly return it.
[????] Take the music box. -[????] Don't be obvious about it. Only show it/bring it up after you've asked Merlin your questions.
Oh, also >atomic crowbar We need to fund this. In case Authoranon needs additional firepower in the future.
'salright. That was still pretty funny. And she had to remind us once again she walked in on us. We'll never live it down, will we? Also, if the crowbar is our best friend, should we give it a name? Like Mr. Freeman? Or perhaps Mr. Freecrowbar
I wasn't expecting a reaction like that from Merlin, though. I wonder whose music box that used to be. Layla's...?
Oh, and also, Authoranon didn't seem too worried about being a prisoner, in the case she wasn't being serious.
>>26611 Of course. If a kid tells you you're her prisoner, you don't take it seriously. But, quite frankly I spent more time writing interactions than writing real discussion. For example, using the crowbar will kill you. Looking at the door is safe, but speaking to it will cause it to slice your throat. Trying to rape Merlin leads to you being killed somehow.
[x] Take the music box. -[x] Don't be obvious about it.
Taking the music box with me, I quickly leave the room. For some reason, I feel like a thief, coming in someone's room, and stealing a toy. A petty thief. I try to reason myself. “I bought the house.” So everything in this house is mine. Well, I know that, it's common sense and stuff, but yet I still feel like a thief. Btter not to linger for too long.
I sneak in the kitchen carefully, a torch in a hand, a crowbar in another, a music box in my pocket, a radio hanging from my belt. I probably look like a total moron. “Hello again.” And of course, Merlin had to be here, in the kitchen, sitting on the table, swinging her legs, and thus preventing me from dropping my stuff before meeting her. “How can you enter like that?” Still smiling, she tilts her head. “I just put my hand on the handle, and I turned it.” I feel irritated all of a sudden. “I'm fairly certain I closed that door.” “You didn't, because I had the key.” Hu? “What?” “Sorry, did I forgot to tell you? I borrowed the key.” I sigh. That girl is really making things difficult. Walking to the table, I carefully put away my tools, save for the music box, still hidden in my pocket. Then, I pull a chair for myself, and I sit in front of Merlin, staring at her. “You know Merlin, I would appreciate if you ask me instead of deciding things on your own. Especially if it's about borrowing my stuff.” “Sorry, but I needed it. Besides, it was my key, not your.” I feel more and more irritated by her confidence. But there's no point in getting angry. I just need to explain myself, and everything will be fine. “Merlin, I bought the house. So everything in this building is mine.” She brings her hand to her mouth, exaggerating pretty much. “Oh my, does that mean you're my owner?” “What?” “I'm just kidding.” Okay, that girl is in a constant good mood, that's good and stuff, but you're trying to be serious here. “Merlin, be serious here. I'm not going to kick you or your sisters out, but I would appreciate if we could just... get along, okay? I don't want to look out for my things everywhere.” “You're used to living alone, am I right?” “Uh? Well, yes.” “I knew it.” Damn! I put on a bold front. I'm not going to be manipulated by a girl! “Merlin, don't change the topic. I just want to live quietly, without being annoyed every...” She cuts me. “You're worrying too much. You should smile a little more, you know?” Then, putting both her indexes in my mouth, she pulls a smile on my face.
“Mrrglin!” “Ha ha ha!” “That's not funny Merlin!” “And yet I'm laughing, so it's got to be funny somehow.” “I'm trying to be serious here!” “I'm trying to be funny here!” This is retarded, I'm having a retarded argument with a little girl not listening to reason, and this is incredibly frustrating. Right now, my greatest desire is just to hit that girl until she cries. And yet I'm not, because I'm an adult, and I can't do whatever I want, no matter how much I want. “...” “Aaaw, come on, don't look at me like that.” “How do you want me to look at you? You're not listening to me.” “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I don't like dealing with serious. Usually, that's Lyrica's or Lunasa's job.” “Your sisters?” “Yes. My dearest sisters.” “And where are they right now?” Merlin stops laughing. She's still smiling, but she's not laughing. I guess I stuck a nerve. I should feel bad for this, but in fact I can only feel satisfaction. “Mmm, Lunasa is teaching violin to that gardener, but if you ask me, they're a little too close to be teacher and student. Lyrica is probably playing by herself in the woods.” “What?” “I mean playing keyboard. What were you imagining? Are you already writing another book?” She laughs again. That girl's mood gets better when she can makes fun of someone. No luck, I'm now her buffoon, not that I mind, but the fact that she caught me red-handed is a really bad thing, because if she were to repeat someone that the man she's living with is writing that kind of book, my reputation is done. “Don't you ever speak about that thing again.” “Oh, scary. What would you do if I were to talk about that thing again?” This is why I hate kids. They're always playing with you, testing you, pushing you as far as possible, and then they say “I was just joking”. “I'll lock you in the basement!” “Ha ha ha!”
In the end, I wasted the whole afternoon threatening Merlin, with next to no result. I told her I would put her in the oven and bake her as a cake, she laughed. I told her I would lock her in a room, she laughed. Either that girl is insane, either she's not respecting me at all. And that's not good, I must have her respecting me, or else things will get worse and worse. But as I sit in the kitchen, opening a can of food while absent-mindedly listening to Merlin's performance, I try to take it easy. After all, I don't want to live here all my life. It's just a shelter where I'll go when I want to write a book. If I can just get Merlin and her sisters to leave me alone while I'm writing, it'll be perfect. “Her Merlin, want some food?” She stops playing, and looks at me with curiosity. “Why not?” I tell her to sit near, and I give her a pair of chopsticks.
“Say,Merlin.” “Mmyeah?” “Don't talk with your mouth full. Did you came here because you were alone?” She swallows. “Yes.” “Do you have someone else? Or just your sisters?” “Just my sisters. Lunasa has another friend, and Lyrica is popular in the village.” “Don't you have any parents?” “Just my sisters.” “... I'm sorry.” “Why?” “Nothing.” I can't really find the good words. I'm a writer, and yet I don't know what I'm supposed to say. Unsure, I raise my eyes from my can to look at Merlin again. Her blue eyes, her wavy hairs, her pink uniform, and her cheery personality. Hard to believe she doesn't have any friend. I should do something, anything. It's obvious that my questions made her depressed, and quite frankly, I prefer the obnoxious-yet-cheery Merlin over the calm-but-depressed Merlin. “What kind of instrument are you playing?” “Trumpet.” “That's funny.” She finally raises her eyes from that poor dinner. “What's funny?” I smile. “I remember hearing that trumpet is a transparent instrument.” “What do you mean?” “It's very easy to tell if a trumpet player is happy or depressed, since it's all in the breath. A happy player will be a better player.” “I see.” She lowers her eyes again, and poke her dinner. It's time for my deathblow. “Are you a good player, Merlin?” “I'm the best player in the whole country.” It's hard to tell, since she's still staring at the food, but something changed in her voice. I just need to push, just a little more.... I need a cocky smile, and to come across as a sceptic. “Prove it.” She raises her head, her eyes shining, and her mouth already smiling. “I'll play until I make you smile.” Well, maybe living with her won't be so bad after all.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3QTmA6ONGI I tried to release it, but apparently the installer is editing some of Windows' sustem32's files, therefore the guy who was supposed to test it grew worried and aborted it.
>>26625 Nah, the problem happens during the installation. The setup writes some DLL and OCX files, because they're needed for Visual Basic Runtime, but sometimes it causes a conflict because they're already here, and the setup asks for the user's permission before updating them. And most folks are incredibly careful when stuff happens in system32.
I want to drop this story and start F.A.G. 2Anonymous!u.ddykRmDU2012/05/09 (Wed) 22:35No. 26630▼
Someone said “the first jazz musician was a trumpeter, and the last will be a trumpeter, the archangel Gabriel”. And listening to Merlin, I think that the end of the world won't be that bad if Gabriel is as good as her. Standing in the middle of the room, Merlin is playing, eyes closed, totally focused. In the meanwhile, I'm lazily sitting, smiling while staring at the cheerful little girl. This is a show I cannot describe. In fact, thinking about it, for a writer such as me, music is nothing but a bane. How can you describe something that can't be seen? It's like trying to describe an smell. I can say “smells like chicken”, or “smells like chocolate”, but I can't say something like “smells like a forest after a rain”. Because people living in the city won't be able to imagine it. Well, I just proved I can describe an smell, even if it's more a comparison than a proper description. But if I were to describe Merlin's music, I would say that... it's like pure happiness. She's happy to play, she's happy to be listened to, and she's happy to see someone smiling. And I can feel that happiness through her music. That song inspires me. I want to start my book now. I don't know what I'm going to write, but I know I want to write something happy, with a good end. But I don't want to leave, I want to stay here, and listen to Merlin for the whole night. In fact, I just decided. Screw the book, I'll stay here. I can write tomorrow, and I don't know if I'll be able to listen to her tomorrow.
“Hey.” I wake up, and it's morning. I think I probably fell asleep during Merlin's show. I hope she's not offended. “Mmmpffuck.” Usually, I don't sleep in a sitting position, head against a table. But I just did it, and now I'm paying the price. “Mmmmgh.” Slowly standing, I stretch my arms until I hear that so-hated cracking noise. Each time I hear that goddamn noise, I think “oh crap I just broke something”. And each time, I broke nothing. They say that humans are able to learn through repetition, but I'm unable to learn that when your shoulder is cracking, it's not necessary the bone breaking. “Hey, I'm down here.” I'm pretty sure I heard someone speaking, but I'm pretty sure I haven't got my morning coffee. Therefore, I ignore the pestering noise, as I begin my quest to find a coffee. A decent one, if possible. “Where's the fucking coffee?” I want a coffee. Yesterday, I had a coffee, so where was the coffee? Ha, right, in the village. I have to walk all the way. “Haha. Screw that.” I think I have some water in the car, it'll be enough to wake me up, and it'll be better than walking through the morning fog while being half-asleep. Not that I have anything against walking half-asleep, but I don't really want to lose my way, especially with a fog like this one. “Wait, a fog?” Is it a daily habit in this place to have fog every morning, or is it just to piss me off? I'll probably never know. “Hey!” Oh man, that pestering noise is back, except that it's louder this time.
No wait, that's not a noise, that's a girl, and a really annoying one. “Get the fuck off my house, girl” I admit that's not really nice from me, but it's morning, my body hurts, I can't have my morning coffee, and on top of that, I'm being annoyed by a girl dressed like Santa, wearing only red all over. No, wait, I'm being unfair. Santa has long white hair, that girl has short brown hair, therefore she's not Santa. But she still looks like one. “How rude! This is my house anyway!” “I'll tell you that, if you don't leave me alone, I'll bury you alive in the basement.” Having said that, I walk pass her, and I go to my car. Once I had something to drink, I'll feel better. Hell, even water would be great. I open my car, grab a bottle, drink a few sip, and rinse my mouth with the rest. “Garglglglgl.” I spit. Clear water really isn't my thing, but at least, it woke me up properly. Shame I don't have any coffee here. Shame I don't have electricity either, now that I think about it. “I feel better already.” Commenting about my current position, I lock the car again, and I walk back to my house. I wasn't ready back then, but now, I'm ready to face that annoying girl.
Walking back to the house, I get into the entryway, I stand in front of the girl, I cross my arms, and I speak calmly. “Okay, so first, you have to present yourself.” On the surface, I'm calm and collected, but it's just a mask to piss off that insolent little brat. “My name is Lyrica Prismriver, keyboardist, and I want to know what you're doing in our house!” Merlin did warned about Lyrica, but she forgot to mention the fact that she was the one forgetting her instrument in this house. “Lyrica, hu? So you're the smart one, am I right?” “What? Who told you about me?” Merlin clearly bullshitted me about her sister's intellect. She described me a mastermind thinking three moves ahead, and all I see is an angry little girl doing her best to get on my nerves. But I'm probably egotist, she's probably always annoying. “This is not relevant, girl.” “Stop calling me 'girl'! I can make your life miserable just by playing the keyboard!” “Oh yeah? I can make your butt sore with just my hands, so leave me alone. I have stuff to do, and unless you want to be added to my list, you should keep a low profile.” “...” I'm boasting, of course, there's no way I'd hit a girl, even if she's as annoying as this one. And by 'hitting', I mean slapping. But hopefully, threating should be enough to calm her down. Yes, I know it's immoral and stuff to threaten an orphan, but I can't use my car, I'm in a dead zone, so no phone and no Internet, and there's no electricity. So I don't know how I can say it without being rude, but at this point, I say “fuck morality and fuck politeness”. My only wish is to write my book and leave, and in order to write my book, I need a decent house, and in order to have a decent house, I need to work and I can't because there's that brat threatening me with hallucinations, and even through I'm a mature man not easily angered, I really want to slap her until she cries.
 “Merlin, your sister is an eyesore, get her off my back, would you kindly?”  “Hey, I know a really fun game, it's called 'kick the santa kid'. Wanna try?”  Ignore her. I have stuff to do. Like walking to the village and having my goddamn coffee.  Show her the music box Oh hell no, I'm not asking anything from her.
===================== I tried a change from my usual style, with longer sentences.
[????] “Merlin, your sister is an eyesore. Get her off my back, would you kindly?” -[????] Then proceed to ignore her.
Throwing in a vote just because. Would like to say I enjoy your interpretation so far very much, and would love to see you continue it. Especially Merlin's parts. 'Tis one story I check every day to see if it's updated, even if I don't post immediately.
But if you don't want to continue writing this one, then don't. If it has lost its appeal, or you'd rather write F.A.G. 2 like you said, best to do it. Either way, would you kindly let us know what you decide, so we're not hanging on, waiting for more awesome MerlinLyrica poltergeists?
Still snickering about the santa Lyrica image, meself.
Not until we adopt the Prismrivers, get a paizuri scene with Keine and reach a heartwarming finale in which Authoranon overcomes his panty obsession and writes a best-selling book on kitchen renovation and mansion interior design.
[x] Ignore her. I have stuff to do. Like walking to the village and having my goddamn coffee.
I cannot take any real decision in my current state, and I won't be able to make any real decision until I assimilate any real pure coffee. What a bother, I hoped I could wake up quietly and properly without having to rely on Mister Coffee, but Santa here just cannot leave me alone, so Mister Coffee can count on my friendship. Ignoring the girl, I quickly grab my stuff, and walk away. Having some water woke me enough to get rid of her, but I'm still not in my best mood, and it's another reason for me to leave this place. Because I know that if I stay here for too long, I'll end up doing something I might regret, like venting my frustrating on Lyrica, and by frustration, I'm referring to the fact that I'm a bachelor living alone, writing romance books.
While walking in the morning fog, I stretch again, while smiling to myself. You would think that a romance writer such as myself would be married to a beautiful woman met by accident, and yet that's not the case. Thinking about that, it's probably why I'm kind of successful with my books, because I'm not writing reality. I'm writing about fantasy. I'm not writing what really happens when a man and a woman met, I'm writing what people really want to happen. People don't want to read story about flat romance like “hey, wanna go to the cinema”, “sure why not”, “hey wanna sleep to my place tonight”, “yeah sure”. No. People want real romance, with cheesy lines such as “I want to live with you forever”. On a way, you can say that I'm a fantasy writer, since I'm not writing about reality but about desires. But on the other hand, is it really fantasy to give people what they want? I don't know, and frankly I don't give a damn, because I'm finally reaching the general store/bar/whatever the hell it is. “Hi again mate! How are ya today? Needin' something?” “Coffee...” “Coming right now!” “Many thanks.” I grab the coffee, I pay, and I take my leave without even chatting with coffee dude. I'm fairly certain he has a name, but right now, he's just the coffee dude. And if I need something, like a crowbar or a whore, he'll be the crowbar dude or the whore dude.
I quickly drink the burning coffee. It hurts a lot, but at least, it's waking me up, and it's more efficient than that bland water from before. Coffee tastes bad, and I really mean it. Sure it smells good, but damn it tastes like shit, but it's not like I have any choice. I'm so used to my morning drink that if I don't drink something when I get up, I'm good for nothing, and it's way more productive if I drink a morning coffee than if I drink a morning whisky. You can trust me, I tried. “Bwaaah.” I throw the cup in the nearest bin, and I raise my eyes to the sky, finally able to think properly. So, the second sister showed up, and I'm ready to bet that the third one is going to be as obnoxious as the second one. Just when I managed to get along with Merlin, that Santa kid has to show her face and ruin everything. To be quite frank, I'm not in a hurry to get back home, so why not pester someone to spend time? Miss Onikakushi miss be busy with school, but I think that Millet Field girl has some spare time. That's settled then, let's go bother that bookworm girl.
“You again?! What is it now?” That brat doesn't hide her displeasure to see me again. That's awfully rude from her, even if you could accuse me of starting this whole mess by breaking in with a crowbar and startling her. But if you do that, if you accuse me, then I guess I'll properly answer by a 'I won't allow an otaku scum to tell me what to do!', then I'll walk away. “I wanted to talk, nothing else.” “There's a girl around here, named Rumia. Go talk to her, and leave me alone!” Look like that girl is clearly not in a talking mood. I'll come back later.
Or so I thought, but I clearly overestimated the village. There's nothing here, not even bus station. It's truly and really damn isolated. It would be better to get back home, even if it's to face Lyrica and her bitchy attitude. Damn that girl, and damn myself for coming here to begin with. Oh well, it could be worse, I have to stay positive, at least my house isn't haunted.
Okay, so for some reason, I have no idea about how I'm going to keep on with this story (or should I say, "with all my current stories including that short about Aya"), so here comes a general hiatus out of the blue. Hopefully it won't last a week.
“I'm home!” I freeze. Did I just said I was home? Because I think I just said it. This is bad, I'm taking some really bad habits here, it's time to fix this quickly. But, hey, I'm not in the mood for something complicated, so I guess I'll work on my book today and get to work tomorrow. Beside, the main priority is to have that book written before my editor decides to skin me alive so it's going first. Closing the main door behind me, I walk to the living room, where my typewriter is waiting for me. Good dog.
I sit in front of the machine, and I start thinking. And then, on an impulse, I start writing. You never know what's really death. If you ask a christian, death is punishment for the sinner, while if you ask a buddhist, death is a rebirth. Well, in my case, death is just plain troublesome. The last thing I remember is my friend telling me that 'one more couldn't hurt'. After that, I vaguely remember a truck coming after me, and me saying something like that: “Come kiss daddy, baby!” After that, nothing. Pure darkness. Pitch black.
At this time, I wasn't really sure of what happened, but I knew one thing for sure. It was a bloody stupid way to die. With my dad constantly repeating me how I was a disappointment and a shame for the whole family, I could be sure that my lifeless corpse would be soon disappears in the garden, without even a note to the neighbours. Well, I DID brought it on myself, after all. One cannot spend all night drinking and picking fights with trucks without having problem when the sun rises. Oh, yes, of course, my problems are now far worse than someone else's problems, but still, it was a really stupid way to die.
Oh well, it's not like I'm going to bother myself with that. Not now. I have something else to worry about. For example, the fact that I'm probably dead. And also the fact that I'm not really a saint, and that I'll probably end in Avici rather than Nirvana.
I stretch my arms. That's bloody nonsense, but that's a decent introduction. Now, all I need is a better plot than my actual plot, because my actual plot is kind of nonexistent. I stand, and start walking around. So, my main character is dead, and there's no way I'll resurrect him. Because I'm writing romance, not science-fiction, and I don't want to be sued by Lovecraft's fanclub for stealing his ideas. So, since he's dead, he should meet someone while being dead, right? Leaving the typewriter like that, I leave the house. I need to walk outside, that dusty house is not a thinking tank. Walking to my car, I lean against it, still thinking. Of course, sending my character in Avici is out of question. I'm not writing torture stories, and I highly doubt that falling in love with the person cutting your limbs on a daily basis is very romantic. So I won't send him to hell, but I can't send him to Heaven either, because it'll make the story boring. No, I have to find another place, an afterlife place, kinda dangerous but not too threatening. Now, what should do the trick?
“Hello.” Interrupted in my thinking, I raise my eyes angrily at the sudden voice, facing yet another girl, this time entirely dressed in black, contrasting with her yellow hair. Those girls are really weird. “Hello. And you are?” “Lunasa. You already met Merlin, right?” I was right, it's again another girl. Hey, it won't be sad, I've been living a lonely life, and all of a sudden I'm surrounded by three girls. Some people would kill for a situation like that. And I know a few of them. “Yes. And Lyrica too.” “Ha. I take it that you dislike her?” Strangely enough, that girl seems to be the most mature of the lot.
>>26650 I don't know, but he's awesome, either way.
But hooray! We've met the last Prismriver. I'm just wondering at the leap of logic she took assuming we dislike Lyrica. Unless this is a usual occurance?
The third sister and the idea!u.ddykRmDU2012/05/19 (Sat) 00:27No. 26652▼
“As a matter of fact, while I don't really dislike her that much, she's not a good company to have around.” The girl -Lunasa- sighs deeply. “Of course, I expected as much.” “Care to explain to a poor and lost soul?” Looking straight at me, the eldest sister starts talking in a calm and reserved tone. “Lyrica is my dear sister, and I like her a lot, but she's kind of a manipulator, as she loves being in control of the situation. And your arrival here was something we never expected.” “She's just annoyed because she never thought someone would come here and claim the house?” “Exactly.” Kind of disappointing to learn that the reason for her anger is so petty, but something strikes me as I listen to the blond girl: she's not smiling. I mean, Lyrica wasn't smiling ever, but she was kind of angry after me, so it's logical. Merlin, on the other hand, is almost always smiling. So, yeah, I'm not really using the good word. I mean, Lunasa isn't smiling, yeah, but there's also something else, I'm not sure if it's her voice or something like that, but there's something ff with her, something depressing, slightly creepy. I don't think I'll enjoy her company, honestly speaking. So far, Merlin is probably the most pleasant. “Speaking about that, I tried to talk about it with Merlin but I got sidetracked each time...” “Yes, Merlin does that if you're not careful. You try to speak about music with her, and you end up talking about food from the Netherworld.” The Netherworld? Now that's a good idea for my book! I must remember it! “So yeah, I bought the house, but I didn't know you three were living inside, so do you have anywhere else to live?” Lunasa frowns. “Are you kicking us out?” “No, no! Nothing like that. On the contrary, I'll be happy to have some company.” And some help to clean up the house, but of course I'm not going to say it, otherwise I'll look like a slave driver. A paedophile slave driver. Hearing that, the blond girl visibly relaxes. “Good. Have you told that to Merlin and Lyrica?” This time, I'm the one frowning. “I haven't talked much with Lyrica. And with Merlin, well, the Netherworld have some really interesting food indeed.” For the first time, the girl smiles at my poor attempt at humour. “Indeed, but I prefer the Netherworld's gardener.” Giggling to herself, Lunasa leaves me alone, walking back to the mansion, holding a violin under her arm, while I'm standing here flabbergasted. I was expecting her to act all depressed and stuff, but I was wrong. Just like Merlin, Lunasa apparently suffers from some mood swings. I wonder if Lyrica shares that weird habit too? Or is it just between the two of them, the depressed one and the cheery one?
Sighing, I walk back to the house, following Lunasa's footsteps. There are so many mysteries in this house, and those girls are only a part of it. I haven't forgotten the noises, the scratches, the basement thing, or the fact that my wonderful, expensive, beautiful and precious car was ruined by something that I'm going to beat to a pulp, should I find it. There are only a few things a man can bear. Being turned into a laughingstock by some girls, having to sleep inside an old rusty mansion, a man can bear. But having his car vandalised is someone anyone should stand against, and so will I. But after writing my ideas down in my book. As I enter in the mansion, I hear an animated conversation going on upstairs, on the first floor. I recognize Merlin's cheery voice, Lyrica's angry tone, and Lunasa's collected tone. But soon enough, I hear Merlin screaming in frustration, and playing her trumpet, probably to calm her sisters. But that doesn't work, as all of the girls are suddenly playing their own instruments as well, turning the conversation into a cacophony. “Just as I thought, things won't be boring with those girls around.” I sit in front of my typewriter, listening closely as the cacophony is slowly turning into a real song.
=================== Apparently, in USA, you say pedophile, while you say paedophile in the UK. English people are weird.
es I opan my ayas, I quickly undarstend thet I'm naithar in Nirvene, naithar in evici. end thet's e raliaf. I don't know whara tha fuck I em, but et laest, I know I'm not in tha worst pleca, so avarything is fina.
I look eround, only to saa e gray end daprassing lendscepa. It looks lika I'm raelly daed eftar ell, without eny possibla eppael. Thet's sed, lifa would ba much aesiar if you could just slem your hends on tha dask, end scraems 'OBJACTION' et Daeth's feca. I rub my ayas, only to ramambar thet I'm daed, end tharafora thet I cen't heva ayas. So whet do I heva instaed? I don't know, end I don't raelly went to know. Whet if I look lika e zombia? Hay, meyba I cen do tha Thrillar Denca now!
“What the fuck?” I pull the page out and I quickly tear it into pieces, before inspecting closely my typewriter. It looks like some mischievous girl replaced the keys while I was talking to Lunasa. I smile warmly. What kind of cute girl coulda done that, ruining all my inspiration, and therefore ruining any chance for me to write today? I don't know, but I'm going to find soon, and then, things will turn nasty. While I consider myself as a gentleman and a scholar, I don't take kindly to people interfering with my work. Especially if it comes from a such a nice little girl. I don't mean Lyrica did it, but, hell, I'm willing to bet money she did it.
Still smiling, I abandon my sabotaged typewriter and I walk back to the entryway, near the stairs. Upstairs, the sister stopped the music, and resumed their bickering, but at a lower volume. I guess music calms down people for real. I shout loudly. “Hey, upstairs!” There's a brief silence as the sisters don't know how to react. “Yeah?” “Which one of you played with the machine in the living room?” Total silence. “It's Lyrica!” “It's Lyrica, again.” “It's Merlin, obviously!” Another silence. “You bunch of traitors!” I go up the stairs, to the first floor, where the girls are. I think I'll have a little discussion with Lyrica, face to face.
When I finally leave Lyrica alone, it's already midday, and it's time for lunch. A very quick lunch, made from tin. Wonderful tin, I couldn't do anything without you. And I'm not forgetting you, wonderfuller tin opener. And you, wonderfullest fork! Without the three of you, I wouldn't be able to eat right now! “How did it went with Lyrica?” Asks Merlin, as soon as I entered in the kitchen. I shrug. “I just had a little explanation. That's all.” This time, it's Lunasa who joins the conversation. “What kind of explanation?” I shrug again. “I just explained her that I wasn't here for long. Just to write a book. Once it's done, I'll go away.” Of course, I forgot to mention the fact that I plan to come here again to write the next book, and the book after that, and the one after that... “Thats not like Lyrica to act like that anyway! What do you think, big sis?” Lunasa sighs again. “She's just doing what she thinks is best for everyone. She thinks it's better for us to be alone here, and she thinks it's better for him to not be here.” I really like when I'm ignored. And by 'like', I mean 'hate'. “Probably, but that's no excuse to be a party pooper like that! We're all getting along nicely, and she has to ruin the fun for everyone!” Apparently, for Merlin, the worst crime is ruining someone else's fun. I can understand that. “She's just deciding things by herself. Nothing unusual.” This is when I decide to butt in the conversation. “That reminds me, you've been together for the last few days, right?” The two girls stop talking to look at me. “Yes.” “Yep!” Ha crap. I thought that, since Lyrica is apparently a 'let's play pranks on people to make them fuck off' kind of kid, I thought she would be the one scratching my car, playing that prank in the basement, and making those scratches on the floor, but if they've been together from the beginning, it was impossible. Unless there was a fourth sister, but I don't think that Merlin can lie. Leaving the discussion again, I open a tin of cold beans, and what a treat it is!
“So anyway, we're home again.” “Yes Merlin. We're home indeed.” “What do we do? Play?” “I'm afraid that playing isn't our priority right now, Merlin.” “Aaw, come on! Don't be cheap!” “I am not cheap. I am realistic.” “Different words for the same thing! Cheeeaaaap.” “Look around you, Merlin. Do you want to live here?” “Obviously not! That's why I always vote for the 'let's play outside' thing!” Hearing that, I almost choke on my beans, and I quickly leave the room. “Bwahahaha...” Oh boy, that was absolutely wonderful! That was a typical 'missing the point' thing! I should probably stay outside for a bit, just enough to calm myself!
A little meta post!u.ddykRmDU2012/05/20 (Sun) 11:10No. 26657▼
I think I need to explain one or two things, and that thread will do. First, as you noticed, I updated the story without giving you any options to vote for. It's done on purpose, to speed up the story, and finish it quickly. Second, as you noticed, I'm not the best writer around, but I'll be happy if I can avoid being the worst around. Third, as you noticed, I keep writing despite my awful style and my lack of interesting plot. And fourth, I don't care if you recognize me in a server or something like that, but I don't really appreciate being annoyed about my stories when I'm just playing. And finally, I don't care if you like my stories or not, because I'm not writing for you, I'm writing for myself, because I love to. That's all.
Still laughing, I leave the house, the sisters, and the typewriter. I'm in no mood for any work right now. In fact, I feel like writing, but I don't feel like repairing the typewriter, so I think I'll just walk around until it's dusk or something like that. Throwing the empty can in my car, I simply walk away. I don't know where I'm going, so I shall go where my feet lead me. Damn, that sentence was awesome, I should write it down or I'll forget it.
Walking the path, I think. Nothing unusual, except the topic. Usually, I only think about myself, about what I'm going to write, how I can write, if I'm too serious or too silly with my story, things like that. And yet, right now, instead of being the egotist snowflake I'm usually, I'm worrying about those girls. Those sister, Lunasa, Merlin, and Santa Claus. I mean, there's nothing worrying about them. So I shouldn't worry about them, right? And yet I am. I am worried about them, because they were living in the mansion, and when I arrived, it was unsanitary as hell, with enough dirt to create an new Teracotta Army. Not to mention the rat infestation in the pantry, the obvious lack of bathroom, and, the grand final, the total lack of parents. Are those girls orphans or what? And while I'm thinking about it, what the hell was that thing in the basement? And those marks around my body while I was knocked unconcious by a pan sleeping. “Aaaargh.” Grinding my teeth in annoyance, I understand that I'm only getting more and more questions, and no answers. Hell, I don't even know those girl's family name. I vaguely remember Santa telling something, but unfortunately, I wasn't really listening to her. I shoulda, it coulda cleared a lot of things. Still lost in thoughts, I keep walking, not paying attention to the path. I'm not even noticing how the path suddenly disappears after leading me in yet another village.
“Miau.” However, I do notice the cat staring at me from a fence. “Miau yourself.” Of course, I'm not really paying attention to it. I'm a great judge of character, and I already judged that this animal was not important and that I shouldn't bother with it. Decide what I'm going to write is far more important. I already decided that my hero would be 'living' in some kind of netherworld, but I don't exactly know where I should draw my inspiration from. I know that there's a Purgatory for the Christian, but I also know they're not really fond of romance, so let's forget that. I think there's also some kind of shadowland in the voodoo religion, that might be interesting to go further into this. After all, exotism is popular. While I'm thinking, the cat insists. “Miau.” But I still pay him no attention. I can send my character in shadowland, yeah, but I can't just send him here without any explaination. I have to find something, like, he has been cursed by someone, or- “Miau.” Crap, I forgot what I was thinking about. “You damn cat...” Woah, that's not often I see a two-tailed cat. And speaking of that, where the hell am I? I thought I was in hickstown, but I'm not! I shoulda turned right instead of going left. Now I don't know where I am, and there's a cat looking at me as if I was some kind of huge ball of wool. How do you call that? Déjà-vu, I guess. Those Spanish people have weirds words. Foreign expressions aside, I would appreciate if that cat could stop staring at me like. I don't really like animals, especially when they have two tails. Ignoring the cat, I decide to walk away, going further into the village. And I don't like what I find.
That village is deserted. Save for the cat following me, there's nobody. Not even a breath of air. Putting my hands around my mouth, I call for someone, anyone. “Hello?” … There's not even an echo. And that's really creepy. I mean, I can understand the lack of echo in a mansion, but in a village? “And where's the mountain?” I'm fairly certain I saw a mountain when I moved in. And yet, from where I am, there's nothing towering over the village. No mountain, no trees, not even a cloud. It's like there's just that village, and nothing else. Slightly worried, I start walking, only to hear something leisurely following me. That's the cat. That's obviously the cat. Nevermind the fact that those footsteps are sounding like human footsteps, that's the cat. I'm not going to accept the fact that I'm followed by a human. It's a cat. A cat. A feline. A purring furry thingy. And I keep walking, followed by the cat. I don't know where I'm going, but I know one thing sure. I'm not turning back. I'm not going to face whatever is following me. I'm going to keep on walking. Until I find a corner. And another corner. Then, by a very smart utilisations of those two corners, I'll be able to walk back home without having to face the cat.
I stop. The footstep stops. It's getting closer and closer, isn't it? I think it is. Or maybe it's just my imagination. Like what happened in the basement. It was also my imagination. Shame I can't say that whole village is also my imagination. When I punch the nearest wall, my hand makes a sad face, so it's probably not my imagination. Maybe I got lost, and maybe it's the village where Kamikakushi and Millet Field are living? I mean, it's impossible to build two villages so close to each other. That would be idiot. Or maybe it's done on purpose, in order to separate some populations groups from the rest of the people? For example, the women are living in a village, while the men are living in another village? “That's impossible. The guy running the coffee shop is a guy.” I should try to remember. I think there was a movie like that, where someone arrives in an empty village. And if I remember it right, it ends badly for him. “I have to get out of here.” I resume walking. After two seconds, I hear that footstep following me.
I don't understand. This is the street I came by, right? But when I look, I see nothing but more houses. There are no shops, no school, no mills, not even a telephone pole. Just houses. Looking down, I see several footprints. Those large one are mine, while those small one are... the cat's. It's a big cat. “Damn right.” Raising my eyes, I keep on walking. If this place is a labyrinth, all I have to do is turning right every time there's a crossroad. And I also have to pray I won't end in a dead end.
Save for that cat following me, there's also someone else. A foreigner, standing in the middle of the street, staring at the sky. He looks like a very normal person, save for the trenchcoat, and the foreign face. He's clearly not from around here. Walking to him, I politely greet him. “Excuse me?” He doesn't answer. I wait a while, and I insist. “Can you help me, please?” “This is the first time I meet you.” He's speaking with a european accent. I think he's german, or maybe english. That doesn't help that his speech doesn't make sense. “Yes?” That wasn't a question, but I tried to answer anyway. “You're new and unexpected.” He finally lowers his head, looking at me. His eyes are terrifying, being blank and empty. 'Soulless' is the word I want to use, but I don't know if it's correct. “Who are you?” The stranger opens his mouth, but doesn't answer. I decide to try another question. “What are you doing, stranger?” I emphasize the 'stranger' part. It's very hypocritical coming from me, but that person is a real foreigner. Like, from another land, unlike me. I'm too Japanese to be foreigner. Nevermind the fact that my grandfather married some foreign girl, I'm still less of a stranger than that guy is. “I'm waiting.” He's not really helping me here. “Waiting what?” There's a little spark of interesting briefly lighting his eyes as he answers. “There's someone following you.” I don't appreciate that discussion. Usually, I'm the one leading it, asking questions and receiving questions, but that person is just ignoring my questions and telling me things I don't want to know. “How can I get out of here?” “If you want to get back home, you'll be back home.” “What about you, stranger?” Not answering immediately, he raises his eyes one more time, and stare at the sky. “This place is beyond time. I just have to wait.” I'm more and more confused by that person. What he says doesn't make sense, kinda like a typical tale prophet. He's saying weird stuff that's not making sense, and I guess I'll understand the real meaning behind this once it's too late. “What's your name?” He answers in a dreamy tone. “Objects from this village are lucky charms. I heard that, should you take one, fate will smile to you.” He's definitely mad. “I'll be going. Keep on with the good work.” “I will: I have two more names on my list.” Leaving the mad man alone, I walk. Again. But what do I want?
 I'm worried for the girls. I want to get back home.  I'm worried about my house. I want to restore it.  I'm worried about my own situation. Where am I going to sleep?
============================== My apologies if there's any typo, but apparently the OpenOffice is on strike and does not underline typos. Hell, I even wrote "Bhava-Agra aggravated an agrarian society in Agra District while agonizing from Agranulocytosis" and yet OpenOffice is still saying "no typos here fella".
Our anon may be a grumpy person, but does he really put his own comfort over the girls?
> I am worried about them, because they were living in the mansion, and when I arrived, it was unsanitary as hell, with enough dirt to create an new Teracotta Army. Not to mention the rat infestation in the pantry, the obvious lack of bathroom, and, the grand final, the total lack of parents.
Yeah. He's bonded with Merlin, got along well with Lunasa, and tolerated Santa for the others' sake. They're growing on him, whether he likes it or not.
[x] I'm worried for the girls. I want to get back home. -[x] I'm worried about our home. I want to restore it. ...Did I really just say that?
He's worried about their health and well being, so the first leads into the second.
[x] I am not worried. I am not weak. I have a single goal: to finish my book. I shall not be stopped.
I know what's right and what's wrong. What I've been worried about until now, and what I want to do. I know which choice is correct, and which is wrong. With that in mind, I'll finish my book.
I know what's right. That thing that keeps me alive. I can't turn my back on the thing that keeps me alive. I turn my mind into paper. That's it. The gastric juice coming up my throat, the pain in my head, and the fear in my eyes. Everything stops. I can't let my conviction waver. My mind has turned into paper. Getting scorned or hated is not heavy for me at all. “I'm not going to worry about anyone or anything. I have a book to write.” The cat following me stops.
It starts to rain. There's no one in the village. The cat disappeared, and the english is nowhere to be seen.
There's no need to talk about the obvious outcome. I turned my mind into paper, burning paper, flying paper, fragile paper, bending paper and looked me away from the real world, ignoring my responsabilities as I wrote. I shall forget about the girls. I shall look away from the house. I shall ignore the trapped soul begging for my help. I shall focus on my book. I am not weak, and nothing will take me away from my book. Not even death, not even the devil, not Merlin's supplications, not Lunasa's questions, not even Lyrica's provocations. I wrote until the very end, and I died writing.
MIND OF PAPER END.
==================================== Mmm, I can't say much this time. This is one result.
I am the bone of my book Paper is my body, Ink is my blood I have created over a thousand pages Unknown to life, nor known to death Have withstood pain to create many stories Yet those hands will never hold anything So as I pray, Unlimited Book Works!
>>27014 I've no earthly idea. Granted, some might not have been checking due to lack of choices, but updates have been rather steady. But considering that we've got Merlin, Lunasa, and Santa Claus, I say that is a rather reasonable tradeoff.
[x] I'm worried for the girls. I want to get back home. -[x] I'm worried about our home. I want to restore it. ...Did I really just say that?
So I'll be lucky if I take something from this village with me? Well, I don't really mind having a little more luck, especially right now. But I do mind stealing from someone's house, and I mind even more with the cat following me. It's coming closer, isn't it? Or is it just my imagination? I'm not sure. In fact, there's nothing I can be sure of, as long as I'm in this place.
I want to leave this place. I have things to do. Many important thing, like doing my job, working on my book, and also restoring the house. And, while I'll never admit it aloud, I'm also worried about the girls. I shouldn't, because, basically, they're freeloading in my house, and yet, I bought the house, so in a way, I'm the one kicking them out. I'm a dude who tried to kick out 3 orphans. That makes me a horrible person, even through I never really planned to kick them out. Especially Merlin. She's difficult to bear, but her constantly cheeful behaviour is something I'm slowly liking more and more. Since I left the family house, I've always been living alone, so my flat was always silent, save for the TV, and sometimes the neighbours making love (and that was the reason why I bought a TV to begin with, because next to me, there were two boys living together, and I don't even want to think about what happened between them). And yet, Merlin's constant chatting is something I'm looking forward to, because having her around is like coming back, living with my parents and my sisters again. I'll never, ever say it, but she's like family. What did I just thought? I only met that girl two days ago, and I'm already considering her as family? There's something really wrong with me! That girl, she did something to me, that's obvious! “You're not supposed to accept people so easily” is what I'm supposed to say, but I won't say it. Mainly because there's nobody around to listen to me, and also because I'm not being honest. I know exactly what the problem is. But I also know that I'm never going to admit it.
When I'm finally back home, it's after spending the whole afternoon walking randomly and trying to figure where I'm going by staring at the sun. Well, it worked only 2 minutes. After that, I started seeing black things moving everywhere, so I decided that staring at the sun would be stupidly moronic. And that I would probably get blind from doing so. Closing the door behind me, I go to the kitchen, sit on a chair, and drop my head against the table. I'm feeling extremely tired from all the walking and thinking and being in a strange place. But whatever, I'm just going to shrug it off and pretend it was the sun making me delirious or something like that. There's something wrong. Something really wrong. What is it? What's wrong? The house is silent. That's not good. And I'm really tired. I jump to my feet. "Girls? Merlin?"
God damn it. I don't know what's going on, but if it's a joke, I'm going to be seriously pissed off. Especially after what Lyrica did to my typewriter. “Yo? Merlin?” No, no. I shouldn't do that. In typical horror movies, that's what the guy do. He thinks it's a joke, he calls, and then, out of nowhere, a monster evil comes and slices his throat. Looking behind me, I don't see anybody. But just in case, I'm going to check the first floor, where the girls were playing earlier. Maybe they're just sleeping, and maybe I'll look like a pedophile entering in a girl's room while she's sleeping, but you can never be sure. Well, not until I check by myself. Sneaking, I slowly and silently climb the stair, trying to be as silent as the killer in that halloween movie. Humming the movie's theme, I reach the first floor, and I decide to be quick. I remember that isolated room on the second floor, I remember how light couldn't penetrate it, and yet, I'd rather be up there than down here. There's nothing unusual here, but I have that lingering feeling that something is waiting for me at the corner. I sigh, trying to relax myself. For Buddha's sake, I'm a romance writer, not a horror writer like Alan Wake, or Sutter Kane! Why am I imagining such things? That doesn't make sense! But whatever, I'm a man, so I don't give up even in adversity! Even if said adversity looks like pitch black darkness where a grue could easily turn me into its next picnic, I won't give up! I'm never gonna give up! Never gonna let it down! Clenching my teeth, I start exploring the first floor, looking for any of the girls.
Jumping from the stairs, I land on the floor with a huge THUMP. After landing, I instinctively turn a somersault, before raising my glance at the first floor again. I don't know what's up there, but I know one thing for sure, it doesn't want me finding the girls' room. I dunno, I acted on instinct. I felt something, so I ran away, jumping down the stairs, and luckily breaking nothing. Of course, given how fast my heart is beating right now, I could have both my legs broken, and I wouldn't be able to feel it. “Aaaah.” I breathe deeply, trying to relax. It's alright. I think I'm ready to admit it, once and for all. That house is haunted. There's no possible mistake; things appearing in the basement, obvious violation of physics laws, irrational fear, scratches all over the floor while I was sleeping, despite my cold body being buried under several pounds of metal, and, finally, my car was vandalized by some soon-to-be-sued-to-death son of a bitch. My house is haunted. And in this case, there's only one thing to do. I'm renting a room in town.
I wrote a quick note that I left on the table, “the house isn't safe, don't stay here for too long, take care”, before packing my things and returning to the village. There's almost nobody in the street, except for the villager I know the most. “Hey again, mate, you're a rare sight at night.” “Yeah, got some trouble back then.” “Have a drink, ya'll tell me.” Inviting me inside, the general store's shopkeeper offers me a coffee and an ear. When I finally start speaking, I half-expect him to laugh and slap my back. “I think my house is haunted.” But he doesn't laugh. Instead, his face changes, from a friendly smile to a cold face. “Why do ya think so?” “There are weird things. I saw some, others happened while I was sleeping, and sometimes, I just feel threatened without any reason.” Nodding, he grabs a cup of coffee. “I can say ya that there's always a reason. When your instinct is sayin' ya something ain't wrong, listen to it, even if everythin' seems fine. It can saves your life.” “Speaking from experience?” “Oh yeah.” Smiling bitterly, he raises his trouser leg, exposing a wooden leg. “I... I never noticed.” “I do my best to hide it, but ya can trust me on this, when ya hear a whoofin' sound behind ya, no matter if there's nothin' behind ya, ya duck. That's common sense here. If ya think there's somethin' wrong with your house, there's somethin' with it.” “I see...” Doing his best to smile again, the 40-years old man takes a sip of coffee. “If ya don't mind, what's the house?” I finish my coffee. “It's the two-story tall building near the lake.” BLURF is the sound he makes while half-choking on his coffee. It doesn't last, and he's quickly back to his feet. “The Prismriver Mansion? And ya figured out t's haunted?” “Primsriver, you said? Yeah, it's haunted, I guess, but... why are you staring at me like that?” He's making me extremely uncomfortable. And not only he's staring at me, but he also looks like he's going to pounce on me. “Ya lived in the Prismriver Mansion since ya arrived here, and ya never thought it wasn't haunted?” “I-I had no reason to think it would be! It was really cheap to begin with!” Oh dear, I just notice that it's one of the usual reason for buying a haunted house. It's cheap. “Oh Kanayamabiko, bless that fool. For your information, that house was haunted for decades, maybe more.” “But that's impossible, there was-” I'm interrupted by a girl entering in the shop, taking everyone's attention.
Why, would you ask? It's because that's girl is not your usual girl. First of all, she's dressed kind of like a shrine maiden, but with several difference. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about shrine maiden to be 100% sure, but I know it's not a real Shrine Maiden uniform. But her most shocking feature is her green hair. Honestly, she looks like one of those gang members, a punk. But I have to admit she's polite. Immediately after entering the shop, she bows deeply before speaking in a really polite tone. “Forgive me for the late visit, but I really need a few things.” The shop owner quickly reassures the newcomer. “Na, no problem. I wasn't going to close anyway, a friend got in trouble.” “A friend?” Moving her glance around the shop, the girl's stare finally locks on me. And then something horrible happens.
Her face changes. At first, it's moderate surprise, painted all over her face, quickly switching to shock, probably as she recognizes me. And then, it turns into some kind of creepy bliss, her face displaying one of the biggest smile I ever saw. “Oh my goddess, it's you.” Quickly mumbling something, the girl brings her hand to her face, trying to hide her smile, but failing, while I try to introduce myself. “Um, hello, my name is-” “I know you, oh yes, I know you. You have no real idea how much we, I mean, I, know you.” “Excuse me?” “You two know each other?” I shake my head negatively. “You must be mistaking me for someone else, young girl.” She start shaking, making me fear a possible brain damage. “Oh no, no, no! I'm not mistaking, there's no possible mistake -I mean, I read your books, ALL OF THEM, and, um, they were really popular back in the school, especially among my friends and, well, I tried to distribute some, but people around here aren't really into that kind of book, and, well, that's kind of sad...” Oh-ho. I never expected to meet a reader here. But to be frank, I wasn't even aware that people were reading my book. “Excuse me?” Interrupt the shop keeper. “This is Miss Sanae. She lives on the mountain, and as you can see, she's a priestess. Miss Sanae, this is the friend I was talking about right now.” Having done the presentation, the shop keeper discretely retire to the back shop, leaving me alone with an excited teenage girl. So much for the “friend” part. “So you have a problem? Perhaps I can help? Please tell me I can help, because, yeah, I may not look like it, but I'm quite skilled, so what's the problem?”
 “I think my house is haunted, and I don't know how I can unhaunt it.”  “My personal space is invaded by a girl I barely know.”  “My house is haunted, and I have nowhere to sleep tonight.”  “Why do you like my books so much? It's just cheesy romance, with a lot of clichés lines.”
======================= Does that sounds frantic enough?
When I saw the pic, I thought for sure that Sanae had gotten to them, and was ready to vote kill, crush, and destroy. Glad to see she's just a nice, if creepy, fangirl.
[x] “I think my house is haunted, and I don't know how I can unhaunt it.”
This choice makes me a bit nervous, as I don't want Sanae going crazy on the sisters either way. But considering that there is apparently something in our mansion besides them, we should make it safe so that we can help clean it up for them. In turn, they will live their more, and we can take further revenge on Santa Claus Lyrica.
Then just bring up the fact that there's three girls who've lived there and have no home, so they might have been forced to endure this kind of stuff before and therefore may know more on the stuff than you do.
[x] “I think my house is haunted, and I don't know how I can unhaunt it.”
[x] “I think my house is haunted, and I don't know how I can unhaunt it.”
“Well, since you ask-” “Oh my, I knew it, I knew I could help you, please tell me what the problem is!” She says, her eyes sparkling. “My house is haunted, and I don't know how to unhaunt it.” “Unhaunt it? Oh, you mean exorcise it?” “Yes.” “Well, it's really simple, a few charms should do the trick, else it might depends. Where do you live?” “In the Prismriver mansion.” The girl -Sanae- sniggers. “Oh yes, it's haunted, indeed.” She hits her forehead with her palm. “Oh my, I just figured I can't help you today!” She tries to sound sorry, but her wide smile isn't really convincing. “What do you have in mind, Miss Sanae?” “Why don't you sleep at the Moriya Shrine, just tonight? Tomorrow, I'll be able to exorcist your house properly, so why don't you drop by the shrine?” As you may probably guess, I'm highly uncomfortable with sleeping in the same house than such an energetic girl. Especially since said girl seems extremely interested in me. “W-well, I...” “Don't worry, chap, ya won't be alone, there're at least three people sharing the shrine.” The shopkeeper comes back to assist me, immediately understanding the problem. “But Miss Sanae, our friend here just arrived, so if ya could just slow down...” While speaking, he shakes his hand horizontally, causing Sanae's attitude to quickly changes. “Oh, you just arrived... Well, it's a long walk, but if we go now, we should arrive before night.” Given that it's already night, either that girl is an airhead, either she's trying to reassure me. In both case, it's still wrong. “Well, that's very nice from you, but-” Quickly moving, the shopkeeper bodyslams me, throwing me on the floor. “He's accepting, Sanae! Good luck!” “Wonderful!” Not missing a beat, the girl grabs me collar, and start dragging me across the room, and through the village. Staring at the betraying shopkeeper, I'm pissed off when I understand that he's giving me a thumb-up, silently saying “flag get!”
“Sanae, wake up.” I gently shake the green-haired girl, without getting any result. In the end, I was right, she couldn't make it. So I had to carry her, piggyback-like. “Come on, this is just silly.” I don't get it. If that girl is living here, she must be used to the travel, right? And yet, she gave up half-way. I wonder if she's using a car or something like that usually. “Bah.” It's not like things are making sense. I tell people that my house is haunted, and instead of saying “No way! That's impossible!”, they're all like “No, really? And did you know that WWII is over too?” Still carrying Sanae on my back, I climb the last steps, her so-called “shrine” finally being in sight. I wouldn't go as far as calling it a shrine, since it's quite big. When you say “shrine”, people are thinking “Oh, that cute little thing near the entrance?”, they're not imagining a real building such as this one. It's still smaller than my own house, of course. I guess that money is mostly used to buy religious stuff, rather than renovate the building. I can see that from the roof, that looks like it wasn't cleaned for years, but overall, it's a fairly decent shrine.
 I'll carry the sleeping girl inside. She needs a better pillow than my back.  I'll leave her near the donation box, and look around. I'm pretty sure I saw a lake somewhere.  Write-in.
============================= Was originally much longer, but I ran out of steam, wrote a short, and rewrote the whole thing. Talkative Sanae is interesting, but kind of breaking the pace while I have a plot to move. Added the write-in option because I'm not satisfied with that update but it's plot-relevant, and an interesting write-in will make my work more interesting.
[x] I'll carry the sleeping girl inside. She needs a better pillow than my back.
I'll be frank. I don't really that girl, she's a little too pushy. And beside, I'm always feeling uneasy near my fans. After all, I'm writing books, and they can't see my face, so I guess they're disappointed when they see how I really look like. I don't know how I can say it, but I think that a writer needs to be mysterious. If my reader were to learn that my longer and most praised story was in fact totally improvised, they would surely be disappointed. But that's no reason to be uncivil to this girl. She may be obnoxious, she's still nice enough to let me stay for the night, even if it's in that... shrine.
Dropping the girl near the donation box, I stretch my arms. She's unusually heavy, for a girl. Well, it's not like I'm used to carry girls around, but she's heavier than I expected. Looking around, I understand where we are: on top of the mountain. From here, I can see my house. And also the village. And another weird shrine. And a huge bamboo forest, really far away. Sanae moans in her sleep. I can't really abandon her here, right?
Sighing, I take the girl in my arms one more time, hardly lifting her. She's even heavier when I carry her like that, rather than carrying her on my back. “Come oooon...” Stumbling on the step, I remove my shoes, and enter the shrine, sliding the door open with my elbow. I hope it's the right place, otherwise I'll end up in a difficult situation, bringing a sleeping girl in someone else's house. “Hello?” Good thing is that it's the good place. Bad thing is that I can't see shit. Where's my torch? Ha, yeah. It's still in the shop, with my toothbrush, my money, and, well, everything I took with me when I left the house in a panic. Is there a switch I can turn on or something like that? “God I'm so dumb sometimes. That's a shrine, on top of a mountain, in a forgotten area that nobody knows. Of course there's no switch, duh.” Muttering under my breath, I curse myself. I blame those recent events for my lack of common sense recently. I don't know, maybe it's the air or something, but something definitely changed with me, and it's not for the best. Just one month ago, I was happy, living alone in my flat, never seeing anyone, and I was happy like that! And now what? I'm carrying a girl half my age, obsessed about me, I'm fleeing a probably haunted house, and now I'm alone in a dark room with a cute sleeping girl. It's a damn good thing I'm not into girls since high school, otherwise that might get nasty.
Oh well, I'm not going to bother. Since I can't see shit, I'm just going to put her somewhere, see if I can find a futon, put her in it, and wait for her to wake up. Of course, if I were to know how this shrine usually look like, it would be way easier. Hell, I don't even know if there's a living room inside the shrine, or if she's living in a separated building. I shouldn't had skipped shintoism lesson back in high school. Gently sitting Sanae against the nearest wall, I grope my way forward, trying to stick to the wall. CLUNK! And of course I had to send my toe against a furniture. “Mmmpfgg!” Clenching my teeth to not scream, I hold my foot, while hopping ultimately falling head first against the floor in a loud THUD. I hate my life. I just want to give up and sleep here before the headache arrives, but I can't. Standing one more time, I try again to grop my way to the nearest tool, let it be a lighter, a candle, or anything, as long as it's making light.
Groping the furniture, I manage to grab something. From the look of it, well, the feel of it, it's a lighter. Wonderful, I'm lucky again. I quickly put it on, creating a small flame. Just enough to see where I am. And also to make the room eerier than before, illuminating the furniture, as well as the thing on it. At first, I thought it was a hat. With two eyes, somehow. And then the eyes moved, and stared at me. At this point, I gave up on thinking, and I shrieked like a little girl, throwing the lighter away in reflex. Still on, it flew in an arc, landing in a clay pot. Filled by alcohol, said alcohol immediately ignited, creating a very huge flame, and illuminating clearly the room, the sleeping Sanae, and the disappeared hat.
Panicking, I run to the pot, grab it, and throw it through the door, right on the pavement. The clay breaks, spreading the burning alcohol over the shrine sacred ground. Well, I avoided a a fire in the shrine, but now I have to worry about a fire out of the shrine. Good lord, I really hope Sanae is living alone, otherwise her parents will be furious after me. Well, I'd better get back inside and clean up the mess. And also find out what the hell was that thing from earlier. It looked like a hat, but it has eyes. And that's impossible. Only living being and hills have eyes. Otherwise, it's nasty. I look at Sanae again. She's still sleeping despite everything; that's kind of creepy. I mean, I bumped my toe against a furniture, I screamed like a little girl, I nearly caused an arson, and now there's a huge, but luckily short-lived fire out there, and she's still sleeping. Perhaps I should take that as a hint to give up, sit at a table, and sleep here. Yeah, I'll do that. I remove my jacket, put it on the sleeping girl, and walk back to the- falling as someone grabs my leg, causing my chin to meet Mister Floor. “Aeiouch!” Moaning in pain, I try to move my leg, only to understand that there's indeed someone who grabbed it. And that someone has an iron grip, for god's sake. “Sanae? Are you awake? Did I woke you up?” No, she's not answering. She's not even moving, save for her chest periodically rising as she breathes. “Let me go, would you kindly?” I grab her finger, trying to unclench her grip on my leg. After a few minutes, I give up and I lie down on the floor, with the fangirl still grabbing my leg. That's not exactly what I was imagining when I bought that house in the countryside.
 Dream about my past.  Dream about someone else's past.  Dream about that recurring demonic poney holding a fork in his hoof and trying to stab me with it.
I've done goofed, major league edition. On a scale from minor fuck-up to nuclear warhead, I fucked up A-bomb. So far, I see only 3 ways to fix that story:  throw in the towel and abandon the story like a pussy (I don't like that idea).  restarting everything from the very beginning (I don't like that idea either).  do what they call an "ellipsis", and write directly the end (not ideam, but better than nothing).
[x] Restarting everything from the very beginning -[x] At the very least, ellipsis
I really like your Prismrivers, but it's really up to you. I'd personally like to at least see the conclusion, however.
In the end, might as well do what you want to. If the desire isn't there to redo it, and you believe you can't continue because you can't do the story justice, then just do what you can. But thanks for allowing us to give our input, and sharing with us what ye have so far.
>>27881 The reason I can't keep on with this story is because I forgot what my original plan was. I wanted to write about the Prismriver because it seemed interesting, but since I can't write romance or slice-of-life, I created a mystery to be used as plot, and I began writing the story, parodying your usual haunted house/ghost movie. But in the end, the mystery hijacked the story and now I don't know how I can fix it. That, and I'm moving out soon, so I'm stressed about everything.
Ah, moving. Haven't done that in the longest time, but it can rattle anyone's nerves. Don't sweat it too much.
I can only ask who is supposed to be haunting the house? I could see something along the lines of Layla becoming vengeful for a reason or the other (the sisters forgot about her?) and she tries to prevent anyone else from getting close by making the house as unattractive as possible. That way, she'll never be replaced. And you'd have to talk her down, so that the sisters could reconcile and start to live as a family in their home once again, rather than wandering spirits in the woods who barely even haunt said house.
Just tossing my own two cents in, in case they might be useful.
>>27883 I'm not going to spoil. If there's really no other way, I'm going to write a proper end explaining anything, but I don't want to do something like "and then the writer looked at the name on the letter, and it was his own name. Koizumi Prismriver." I don't want to do something like that.
Lying on the floor, I try to sleep. It's harder than it sounds, mainly because of the low temperature. And also because I gave up on my jacket. Maybe it's because I feel cold that I'm having that dream.
The man sighs. Wherever he's looking, there are only two things to be seen. Blue, and yellow. Those are the only colors here. There's nothing else, not even a palm tree, not even a cloud. There's nothing to hide him from the sun in this desert. There are no landmarks to tell him if he's on the right way, and the heat is horrible. He tries to walk, but something is slowing him down. Looking behind him, he stare for a while at the huge bag he's dragging. The bag itself isn't important, but its content will make him rich. Maybe even noble, and once he's noble, he will be able to get married, and then he won't travel any more. That is, if he can bring it back with me.
The sun set, bringing night. He tries to sleep, holding the bag against his chest, hoping that the sand won't bury him while he's sleeping. One more time, the devil appears to taunt him. When he wakes up, the moon is still high in the sky. He stands, and starts walking, still not knowing where he's going, but hoping he'll find something. Eventually, he finds a village, but still with the Devil following him.
Back in his home-country, he's disappointed despite his success. The woman he wanted is getting married with a mindless fool. He tries to interfere, but even with his new title, the nobles aren't accepting him. They're calling him “upstart”, even when he can hear them. And the Devil is still following him, whispering. Still behind him, always talking. He misses the time where it was waiting the night before appearing. He must be getting desperate, and she's clearly not used to being refused something.
Her fiancé died. She's free now. He's going to wait a little, and then he'll propose. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he feels proud. “Count Prismriver”. Being proposed by a count will be the girl's greatest dream, she should be thankful. Of course, he's not marrying her for her money or her fame, but because she's fertile. With her, he's going to start a noble lineage. He can already picture it: the great Prismriver family. Looking at his reflection again, his smile instantly disappears. The Devil is still behind him, asking him if he's happy enough. He tries to ignore it, but it's insisting. You will never be happy, the Devil says.
The Devil was right. He cannot be happy. His wife is beautiful, faithful to him, and smart, but she only gave him daughters. Alone on his private balcony, the Count silently cries. His family, his great family he wanted to create will never exists. But no matter how bitter he is, his daughters aren't to blame. Neither is his wife. Tonight, he's going to take her again, hoping for a male heir, for a fifth kid.
Alone, the Count walks. An umbrella in a hand, and a flower in the other, he walks to the gravestone, and offer the flower. Then, the stylish and distinguished noble closes his umbrella, and sits in the mud, near the grave, staining his expensive coat. Then, the Count starts speaking to his dead wife. He expresses his remorse, his regrets, and his guilt. He admits he should have been happy with four daughters and a loving wife, instead of hoping for a male heir again and again. Then, he start speaking about his daughters, how they're growing up, and his voice changes, becoming proud. He talks about buying expensive musical instruments for the girls. He wants the best, and he can affords it, so why not? He's a little worried, fearing that a fortune hunter might target his beloved girls. He hesitates for a while, and decides to tell them everything. Then, he stands, and leave his wife's grave, his coat dirty and muddy.
The ceremony is simple, and there's not a lot of guests. Merlin did her best, but most of people she sent a card never came. Lunasa isn't surprised at all, she expected something like that. When Merlin asks, Lyrica explains that the Count wasn't really popular, due to his “upstart” status. But when Merlin asks what it means, Layla tell her to stay quiet, and that she'll explain everything later, once the Count is resting by his wife's side. Once the ceremony is over, a curious reporter asks what happened, and nobody can answer. The servant said he saw a huge statue falling from the balcony, while the maid said it was pushed. Nobody knows exactly what happened, and they don't like to talk about it.
When Layla wakes up, the house is silent. The servants are all gone, and so are her sisters. Merlin left the house to marry with a reporter, Lunasa is now somewhere in Germany, and Lyrica is just missing. But Layla isn't worried, her sister always find a way out. One day, she's going to receive a letter from her sister, telling her that, somehow, her smart older sister avoided troubles. But still, it's lonely to stay in this big mansion by herself. So to spend time, she's going through her father's study, not knowing that she's sporadically followed by the Devil.
She accepted the Devil's bargain. In exchange for her own vitality, the Devil created three poltergeist, based on Layla's fondest memories. Layla was now doomed to spend the rest of her life in the bed, eternally crippled, and totally unable to live by herself. But for her, it was a small price to pay to have that the mansion that held so many of her memories lively again. Her “sisters”, or rather the poltergeists based on them, never suspected that she made a pact with the Devil.
But the truth was, that she double-crossed the Devil, by using her father's notes, as well as that thing he brought from one of his travel. Originally, the Devil wanted her “most precious treasure” for its own use, but Layla couldn't just give her ears to it, and thus she sacrificed her own life to avoid upholding her part of the bargain. And she thought it worked.
She was wrong. The Devil avenged. The poltergeists started avoiding her, and she died bitter and regretful, as her father did before. “But she was never buried.”
I wake up in a shock. Someone just talked to me! I know it! Someone just whispered in my ear! Don't lie to me, I can tell! There was someone in this room! And why is my chest so heavy? “Oh...” For some reason, Sanae is using my chest as a pillow. I feel like that dude from the typical harem movie. “Mmm?” She wakes up. She mutters something sounding like “Father?”. Then, she rubs her eyes. And she sees me. And she recognizes me. And she start screaming in confusion. And I start screaming as well. And then a huge woman with blue hair and snake-like eyes barges in the room and start screaming as well. But to me. And it's mainly “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SANAE?”.
This is not going to be a good day. I can tell from the first 5 minutes. First a nightmare, then hallucinations, and now the evil stepmother. And I'm not even married.
The End (2)!u.ddykRmDU2012/06/27 (Wed) 10:56No. 27939▼
I squeeze the torch, while holding tightly the charm that Sanae gave me when I left the shrine. I don't believe in magic or miracles, but just in case, it doesn't hurt to have something. And having this is good for my morale. I feel safer with this paper in my hand, even if it'll probably be useless. My dream said that she was never buried. Well, that dream was strange and foggy, I don't remember everything, but I remember the part about someone dying in this house and not being buried. And that's why I'm here, in the basement, holding that torch as if my life depended on it, while holding Sanae's charm in another. You know, at this point I could say that I'm scared, but that would mean being a liar. I'm not scared.
I just want to run away from here. That basement seems totally normal, much like your average basement. Well, I guess. I never had basement. Sometimes a storehouse, but never a basement. But I guess that it's normal for a basement to be pitch black. Totally normal, right? Especially considering that I'm looking for. A girl's body. Waving my torch around, I look for anything strange. Well, everything is strange, but I'm looking for something stranger. Like, I dunno, a pile of dirt somewhere, with someone under it.
And I find nothing. The basement itself is, as far as I can see, a square-like room, with several wooden pillars here and here. Hang on... Did I said square? I was wrong. “Wait, wait, WAIT!” Fear disappears, quickly replaced by excitation. Maybe I found something! Let's check! I go to the nearest corner, and I walk along the wall. “Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen...” Twenty step long. Interesting. Let's count the width now. “Eighteen, twenty, twenty-one?” Twenty-five step long. That's really exciting now, the basement is smaller than the house! There must be some kind of hidden compartment somewhere! I just have to find it!
But how can I find a secret compartment? Because, yeah, it's hidden. “Wait a minute! The ground is made of hard-packed surface or whatever the hell it is, but the wall are reinforced with woods!” I can knock at the walls, and listen if there's an echo! If there's one, it's here, and then, maybe I can break it down! “Yeah! Yeah!” My excitation level is now overwhelming. I have a trail to follow, everything will be simpler now.
Knock, knock. Here, there's a small echo. Knock, knock. And not here. Passing my hand on the wall, I try to feel if there's any mechanism. Softly tapping the wall with my torch, I listen closely. “Thicker here. It's a wall. I have to find the thinner part, it will probably be the door.” And so I do, carefully tapping the wall moving inch after inch. “Here!” I frantically try to find a mechanism, or even a knob, but there's nothing. That wall is full of splinters, which frustrates me to no end. “Fuck that, it's crowbar time!” I quickly run away from the basement, to the kitchen, where I left the crowbar earlier. Now that I have a trail, I won't let anything stand in my way until I get to the bottom of this.
Inserting the crowbar between two boards, I move it up and down until the wood starts creaking. “Yeah!” Then, I kick the crowbar. The wood explodes as it's being torn, sending splinters everywhere, but opening a large opening for me to enter.
“What?” I'm disappointed. Seriously disappointed. I expected something, like, I dunno, a body rotting, with pentagrams everywhere, but there's nothing of that here. There's just a small table, with a book on it. “Is that all?” I'm seriously disappointed. Walking to the table, I read the cover. “How to bind a devil, by Patchouli Knowledge?” That's all? Seriously, is that all?
Or maybe I'm not looking at the right place.
The End (3)!u.ddykRmDU2012/06/27 (Wed) 15:41No. 27946▼
This time, I'm exploring the first floor. Last time I tried to explore, I ran away screaming because a huge thing chased after me. But now, it's going to be different, because I found that book, and finding a book automatically removes all barriers, allowing me to progress! Well, it's the case in games, but there's no reason it wouldn't work here, right?
And even if that monster is still here, I still have that charm Sanae gave me. Sure, it looks like a bland paper with some childish doodle all over it, but you're confident. It's going to work for sure. After all, you can't imagine why a childish doodle wouldn't work on a thing that you can't even understand because that thing is probably dead or something else. Right?
Fending the darkness with my torch, I penetrate deeper in the first floor. I'm looking for something unusual. The first time was disappointing, but that book reeks of convenient plot device, so I took it with me. If I were in a video games instead of fearing for my life in a haunted house, I would be trying to use that book to magically figure what the hell is going on. But unfortunately, that book is in English, and, well, English is like Russian for me. I could read the cover, but that's all. I don't even know that “Patchouli” person, but for some reason, I'm ready to bet that, like all people writing weirds books, she was dragged in hell by a devil. Or something like that. “Heyo? Merlin?” There's no answer. Good, it looks like they followed my advice and spent the night somewhere else. I would feel bad if something happened to them while I was running away; scared for my own life.
Found it. And for some reason, I don't feel excited about that discovery. Sure, I found something important, but when I look at this, I feel sad rather than ecstatic. I guess it's Lunasa's room, but with all the dirt, I can only guess. There are several scores, and many replacements strings. And also a skeleton in a dress, in the middle of a oily puddle. I guess she died and rotted here. I should be happy that I found what's been causing all those trouble since I moved in, but instead, I just feel awful. Lunasa has a body rotting her room, and she never told me. Am I really that unreliable?
Okay, okay, maybe I'm unreliable. After all, I'm twenty-six years old, and I'm still single. I'm spending my life writing cheesy romance for high-school girls, and the first and last time I tried to sleep with a girl, she just laughed at me. After that, I told the whole class that she was a lesbian, and she was expelled, while I decided to live alone. So may I'm unreliable, but still, hiding to me the fact that one of those girls has a skeleton in her room, that's really not trusting me at all. Were they thinking that I would run away if I were to know the truth? Well, that's kinda what I did when that thing chased after me, but that's beside the point. “What am I going to do with you, my friend?” Well, I guess I'll collect the remains for the time being. And after that, I'll call Sanae to perform a burial or something like that. I think I had a refuse bag somewhere.
“I've seen at a wedding here before. And two burials.” I drop the half-full refuse bag on the floor and grab my torch. “Who are you?” Standing, I look around, moving the torch left and right. I manage catch a glimpse of red hair for a second, but it moves quickly and evades the torch. “Don't try to look at my face, would you kindly?” “Who are you?” I repeat my question, but accept to do as he asks. Well, I guess it's “he”. I'm not sure, that voice doesn't seem very feminine, but I can be wrong. “I am Murmur, Earl of Hell, and Great Duke of necromancy and philosophy.” A cold chill goes down my spine. I vaguely remember a Devil being mentioned in my dream, but it was just a goddamn dream. Given enough preparation, I can deal with rotten bodies, but dealing with devils is not something I've been preparing for. Especially an occidental devil, being probably immunized to Sanae's charm. I try to control myself. “What do you want?” “I want the book you found.” “The one from the basement?” “Yes.” Aiming the torch at the skeleton in the middle of the room, I try to conceal my own fear. “Why are you interested in that book?” The voice becomes sarcastic. “Poor little bird, this is beyond you. Just do as I say, and I won't drag you kicking and screaming in Hell.” I'm not afraid of you. “Is it what you've done before?” “Nooo, that mess you see is just a girl trying to double-cross me.” “What have you done?” The Devil laughs. “Her sisters believe she died fifty years ago. But the truth is that she died thirteen years ago. They just couldn't see her.” “...” I don't understand. It's saying that Merlin, Lunasa and Lyrica were already alive 50 years ago, and I know that it's impossible! So it must be lying. That's it! The Devil is lying! “Isn't it horrible? Giving up on your own life just to have siblings again, and still dying alone?” It laughs again. I move the torch, lightning the Devil's face.
I want to get this over with. Quickly. I want that thing to be gone.  Give it the book.  Use Sanae's charm.
================ Feel free to point any typos. I wrote that very quickly, there's probably a shitload of them.
There's no way I'm going to obey that thing. I'm not obeying some two-tongued redhead freak! “No way!” “Oh my, and I told you not to look at my face. Now what are you going to do, use that thing on me?” I pull the charm from my pocket, and I throw it at the devilish freak.
The explosion throws me against the wall. I fall with a groan, and try to grab my torch before the Devil finds it. “My, my, what a mess.” This time, the voice sounds definitely feminine. That charm didn't damaged, but its voice changed somehow. I just hope that doesn't mean more trouble, I'm not a fighter, and all I have is a torch. Everything else is in the car. Even the crowbar. I should've took it with me, I have the feeling it would have been far more useful than that charm. But I expected a ghost, not a devil. “You're a troublesome child, aren't you?” Opening my eyes, I see the torch being moved around, as it's looking for me. I have to hide somewhere. Well, either that, or I can charge.
Jumping to my feet, I charge the Devil holding the torch, shoulder first, throwing it on the ground. I have to get back to my car and find the book before Murmur figures where I put it. But something stabs me in the shoulder, and moves to the ceiling, easily lifting me. I start screaming, grabbing the painful object with both my hands. It's a hook, stuck in my left shoulder. I pull it, trying to get it off my shoulder, but Murmur grabs my arm, and start pulling, and I lose my grip on the hook. “ARGH!” I can feel it! I can feel it going deeper and deeper! It's tearing my shoulder apart! My left arm is going to fall! “Delicious...” Murmur pulls my right arm. My feet are floating in the air while my body is hanging from the hook. If I could think , I would be annoyed by how ridiculous I am. I must look like a huge piece of meat hanging from the ceiling in a slaughterhouse. “Just play along. It'll be funnier if you concur, you know?” The hook breaks. I fall on the floor, still screaming in pain.
Murmur stands over me, while holding another hook. It's not smiling any more. Instead of that, it looks disappointed. “You are an idiot. But I don't blame you, you're just a human. You believed yourself strong enough to stand against the Earl of Hell, and that was retarded. Luckily for you, I cannot act directly against humans unless I really have to, but unfortunately for you, I had to. So, let's try this again.” She crouches down, bringing her face very close to mine. “Would you kindly give me that book you found?” Squeezing my shoulder, I clench my jaw to not scream. I'm shaking, and the pain is horrible. That's something I wish nobody to experiment. “Tsss.” Murmur slams his tongue. “Look like I have to try harder, then.” Bringing her face really close, the Devil kisses me.
"Mmm? MMMMM!" *CLAC* I roll on the floor, loudly groaning in pain while holding my bleeding mouth. It took my tongue. It started kissing me, and then, it bit my tongue off! “Mmmmmm!” I try to swear, but I cannot articulate. It's already difficult to speak while experimenting extreme pain, it's even harder when you have your tongue missing. In front of me, the three-tongued Devil starts playing with its new tongue. “Lalalala... Oh, interesting, you had potential to be a countertenor. Now, allow me to do my thing. 'Lady Murmur, would you kindly take that book from the filthy human I am?' Why, thank you, so long, and thank for the fish!” And then it just disappears, leaving me alone with my pain.
“How do you feel?” I nod at the light-blue-haired girl, while writing on my notebook ”Fine, thanks.” Reading that, Merlin smiles briefly, before focusing her attention on the coffin while two villagers are burying it. Things were complicated, but now, with Layla's burial, I think that things will be fine. The Devil has gone, taking my tongue after mutilating me, but at least, I'm still alive. I try to smile. I really did everything to have a perfect burial. I even contacted that Feng Shui girl to choose the adapted gravestone. She tried to explain me how those things worked, telling thing about “firefly gravestone don't go on rocky land”, but she quickly lost me, so in the end, I just wrote her to “do her best.”. The result is this: an extravagant tomb for a girl that probably doesn't care any more. After all, she's been dead for such a long time, so I think that any tomb will make her happy now. It's better than resting in her elder sister's room.
When Lyrica came back from wherever she's been and found me agonizing in her sister's room, she asked Merlin to “go fetch that bunny girl”. After that, she started asking me what was the refuse bag for, and that's when I understood everything. I don't know how, or why, but the Devil cursed Layla. That curse was something like “you cannot be seen by your sisters”. And that's why there was a rotting body in Lunasa's room. But, well, that's past. Now, Layla is having a decent tomb. She must be happy enough to leave me alone.
“And having briefly suffered from the hands of the cruel soldiers during the war, Andrew remembered what pain really was. And thus, he decided that he would never, ever, let her go; that he would never let her be lonely. She wasn't his wife, but she was everything to him, and he has been slow to notice that. It was time to fix it, once and for all. He fell to his knees. "Layla, will you be my wife?" She accepted. The end.”[/b] I carefully remove the paper from the typewriter, and I add it to the pile. My book is over. Sure, it's sloppy as hell, but that's all I can write with my wounded shoulder. The doctor said it would eventually heal, but that I would suffer after-effects. When I asked [i]“What kind of after-effect?”, she said something like: “You won't be able to move your arm any more.” In other words, I can't live alone now. I'm what you call a handicapped, always needing someone else to work for him. But I'm fine with that. It's a big house, and I don't really want to live alone. It's fun to have those girls around. Sometimes, they're too lively, but most of the time, they're nice. “Hey, are you finished with that? Lunasa is coming back today, you know?” I wave at Merlin, in a “yeah yeah I got it” way. Back from her holiday at the 'Hakugyoukourou'. Not quite sure about what that place is, but Merlin told me that “Lunasa's special friend with benefit lives here”. I try not to think about what “friend with benefit” means to a young girl such as Merlin. I just hope it's not what I think it is, because it would be a bit immoral. Those girls are still minors, right? Definitely immoral. “Okay, you boor! Come out, she's here!” Groaning something rude at Lyrica, I leave my work here, and I walk outside. And there she is. Lunasa, the eldest daughter, is coming back to us after spending a week at her friend-with-benefit's place. Merlin is shouting various thing while having one of the widest smile I ever saw, Lyrica is smirking as if she was plotting something mischievous, and I'm just waving with my good hand. And then I notice who's with Lunasa. I pat Merlin on the shoulder. “Hmm? Who's that girl next to Lunasa? Oh come on, you airhead, I told you about her several time! That's Lunasa's girlfriend! Wait... why are you turning green?” Lyrica laughs. “Perhaps he doesn't like lesbians?” I switch to a blank page, and I start writing frantically. “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?”
Writanon - Romance writer, looking for a peaceful secluded place. Solar-powered vacuum cleaner - Originally planned to be a ghostbuster reference when fighting against Layla's ghost, and in the end was unused. Yu Brokmaiharm - A crazy dude with a poor name. Yu Aramauron - A poor sap with a shitty name. Coffee - Spends the whole story being necessary. Layla Primsriver - The youngest Prismriver. Died before the story starts. Destroyed Writanon's car, and tried to warn him, but only managed to scare the shit out of him. She made a pact with the Devil to create poltergeists, but she double-crossed Murmur and never gave her the book. Keine Kamishirasawa - Has an impossible name and is unhelpful during the whole story. Akyuu Hieda - She doesn't like being called "Millet Field". Is a named character, but is also unhelpful. Shopkeeper - An unnamed OC. Curiously, is more useful than Keine and Akyuu. Likes Sanae. Rumours says he would like to spend some time with her. Kana Anaberal - Was mentionned by someone. Is totally irelevant. I totally didn't changed the whole story just to remove her. Totally didn't. Merlin Prismriver - The nicest Prismriver. Can't shut up once she starts talking, and is always cheery. Original scenario has her turning insane and becoming depressed when asked about Layla. Lyrica Prismriver - The smartest Prismriver. She like planning things, and she hates everything that doesn't go according to plan. Can be very childish if she's surprised. She's the kind of girl reading Death Note and saying 'I knew he would do this'. The perfect girl to write a Sherlock Holmes parody. Originally planned to become agressive when asked about Layla. Lunasa Prismriver - The eldest Prismriver. She's supposed to be pessimistic and stuff, but I decided to make her realist but silent. I imagine her as the kind of girl following your plan nicely while knowing when, where, how and why you're going to fail, but still doing her best. Originally planned to be helpful and cheery when asked about Layla. Chen - Follows writanon while he's in Mayohiga to make sure he's not stealing anything. ?????? - Stays in Mayohiga. Is called "Stranger" by writanon. Gives cryptic answers. Clearly doesn't give a fuck about anything. Has "two names on his list". Sanae Kochiya - A very strange girl, apparently fond of romance stories. She probably dreams of a prince on a white horse beating the hell out of Reimu. Is living alone with two godesses, apparently doesn't have any other relative. Pyonta - A scary thing with moving eyes. Is remotely controlled by Suwako to scare the shit out of everyone, for the fun. Kanako Yasaka - An overprotective goddess looking like a snake wearing human skin. Not something to mess with. The Count - The only male Prismriver. Originally an adventurer looking for wealth and fame. He wanted to create a noble family, but only had girls. The Count's woman - The first woman to bear the Prismriver name. Nothing much to say about her. She was a loving and loyal woman. The Devil - The main antagonist, Lady Murmur, Earl of Hell, and Great Duke. She has thirty legions of demons under her command. She's doing her best to conceal her gender, but she likes to show off. She's been tasked with recovering the book while keeping a low death count, and failed, killing 2 people in the process and mutilating writanon. Was orignally planned to be a mastermind-like villain, summoning dead people to do her dirty job for her. Ended up taking the book by force. Youmu Konpaku - Lunasa's friend. She's learning violon from Lunasa, but Merlin keeps repeating that they're more than teacher and student.
Patchouli Knowledge - Doesn't appears directly. The one causing all those troubles. She wrote a demonology book a long time ago, but lost it while travelling. She ordered her familiar to bring it back to her, without killing anyone and without taking it by force. Probably the most powerful witch in the world. Was clearly misunderstood by Murmur.
Oh well, 100 posts remaining. I guess I'll dump a doujin or something to reach autosage. In the meanwhile, feel free to ask questions about things. Like Die Forelle. That's a good thing to listen while hanging from a hook..
>>27968 I don't think. I didn't wanted you going after them, so I did my best to make them unreliable. Besides, I wanted to story to look like a family matter, with no real help from the outside. My original plan was to have Writanon see "Layla" written somewhere and ask the girls about it after having a disturbing dream. And also, there's no reason for Hieda or Keine to even know about Layla. And I couldn't find any reason for them to know about Murmur. After all, the Prismrivers are foreigners, and very little is known about them.
Also, about Murmur, I made it clear that Writanon wasn't a fighter, and I also made it clear that Murmur wasn't an oriental demon, so I expected someone to ask "can a Japanese charm hurts an European demon?". It was supposed to be a hint. I guess I should've given you more time to vote and think about it, but my time is already timeout.
We hold them here or we fight them on the hallowed ground of the Capital itself. I for one would rather see a million lunar lives lost here than allow a single youkai to set foot inside the Capital. Watatsuki no Toyohime's speech before the first battle
Come all you youkai scum and fallen nobles! Come face the one true might of the universe and wither under my Fan of destruction! Watatsuki no Toyohime during the first battle
Your youkai may win firefights. Your PMD's may win battles. My fan wins wars.(PMD=Person of Mass Destruction) Watatsuki no Toyohime answering Yukari Yakumo's taunt
We are the Lunarians, the Sons of Lord Tsukuyomi. Whilst we draw breath, we stand. Whilst we stand, we fight. Whilst we fight, we prevail. Nothing shall stay our wrath. The creed of Elite Lunar soldiers
We shall wage this war with undaunted faith and courage. We shall not take one step back. This is the Lord Tsukuyomi's world and we will not surrender it! Moonrabbits
There will be no retreat from the Palace. We will fight to the end. Remaining troops defending Lord Tsukuyomi's palace
Our mighty guns will bring the very sky crashing down upon enemies of the Moon. Unknown artillery crew
They shall be my finest warriors, these youkai who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them, and in the furnace of war forge them. They will be of iron will and steely muscle. In great armour shall I clad them and with the mightiest magic will they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease, no sickness will blight them. They will have tactics, strategies and machines so that no foe can best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Lunarians. They are the Defenders of Sukima. They are my EX-youkais and they shall know no fear. Yukari Yakumo describing her best warriors armed with Kappa technology
From the darkness we strike, fast and lethal, and by the time our foes can react... darkness there and nothing more. EX-Rumia and her troops
Gather the dead and the spirits for war, let them join our ranks, lest we are forced to join theirs. Yuyuko Saigyouji to Youmu Konpaku
Strike fast and suddenly. Attack without warning. Secure victory before the foe is aware of his danger. Remember always, a war is easily won if your enemy does not know what he is fighting. Aya, commander of the fast attack troops
An open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred and unguarded. Satori Komeiji
Walk softly and carry a big gun. Unknown Kappa
My fist is at the Hoshiguma's and Ibuki's command. I answer to no other oni, living or dead.[b] Sukima's oni soldiers
[b]Pain is temporary, Honour is forever Common saying among onis
For every one of us who falls, ten more will take his place! Fairies
Had to do these the moment I saw those symbols. Cookie for the first one to guess the origin of these quotes! P.S I have read too much Warhammer 40k...
>>28010 You have to be a genius to not suck at your first attempt. And most of us aren't. You can always start by writing a few shorts, if you're strong enough to endure criticism. As I always say, if you're at the bottom of the barrel, you can only improve.
“Okay. I left it in my car, you can take it.” “Oh my, and I told you to- wait, I can?” The Devil's face goes from mild irritation to total disbelief in a second. “I can, really?” I nod. “Sure you can. Go on, take that book. It's not like I can read it anyway.” The Devil raises her hand in front of her face. She's holding the book. “Woah.” “Why did you asked me if you had the book to begin with?” Still surprised, Murmur answers absentmindedly. “I needed the owner's authorization. My master told me to not harm anyone, and stealing that book would have created prejudice.” I point at the skeleton. “And that?” “Ah! Um, that's different. She double-crossed me, see? I'm fine with being ignored, but not with being insulted.” “Sure. So what now?” Murmur stares at me for a while before answering. “Well, I guess I'll take my leave. Feel free to drop by my Master's place sometimes, she would probably enjoy your company. You're both bookworms. Look for the Scarlet Devil Mansion near the Lake.” “Okay.” I say, while promising to myself that I would never visit that devil's workplace. Especially a placed named like that. “Well, off I go!” And with that, Murmur disappears. She just disappears. No fancy trick, no sulfur smell, no big explosion. I feel kind of disappointed. “Oh well, I can take it easy now.” Sighing, I resume my task of removing the body.
“How do you feel?” I nod at the light-blue-haired girl, still focused on the coffin. Merlin smiles briefly, before focusing her attention on the burial. Things were complicated, but now, with Layla being properly buried and Murmur getting her book back, I think that things will be fine. The Devil has gone after taking her book, so everything is all right.. I try not to smile. I really did everything to have a perfect burial. I even contacted that Feng Shui girl to choose the adapted gravestone. She tried to explain me how those things worked, telling thing about “firefly gravestone don't go on rocky land”, but she quickly lost me, so in the end, I just told her to do her best. The result is this: an extravagant tomb for a girl that probably doesn't care any more. After all, she's been dead for such a long time, so I think that any tomb will make her happy now. It's better than resting in her elder sister's room.
When Lyrica came back from wherever she's been and found me rummaging in her sister's room, she started insulting me before I snapped at her and explaining her what I was doing, and that's when I understood everything. I don't know how, or why, but the Devil cursed Layla. That curse was something like “you cannot be seen by your sisters”. And that's why there was a rotting body in Lunasa's room. But, well, that's past. Now, Layla is having a decent tomb. She must be happy enough to leave me alone. I smile. I said “alone”, didn't I? That's wrong. I'm not alone now.
And having understood what love really was, Andrew also remembered the pain from being rejected. And thus, he decided that he would never, ever, let her go; that he would never let her be lonely. She wasn't his wife, she wasn't his plaything, but she was everything to him, and he has been slow to notice that. It was time to fix it, once and for all. He fell to his knees. "Layla, will you be my wife?" She accepted. The end.” I carefully remove the paper from the typewriter, and I add it to the pile. My book is over. I'm pretty proud of it. The main character is a jerk at first, but he really changes a lot during the history. I'm pretty sure it'll be a masterpiece, successful enough to make me rich. In other words, I'll be able to turn that eerie mansion into something cheery. Of course, I'll have to deal with the girls' whims first. Merlin already started asking me a new trumpet. When I pointed out that her was already fine, she answered that having more trumpets was obviously better. But I'm fine with that. It's fun to have those girls around. Sometimes, they're too lively, but most of the time, they're nice. “Hey, are you finished with that? Lunasa is coming back today, you know?” I wave at Merlin, in a “yeah yeah I got it” way. Back from her holiday at the 'Hakugyoukourou'. Not quite sure about what that place is, but Merlin told me that “Lunasa's special friend with benefit lives here”. I try not to think about what “friend with benefit” means to a young girl such as Merlin. I just hope it's not what I think it is, because it would be a bit immoral. Those girls are still minors, right? Definitely and totally immoral. It's totally not a laughing matter. “Okay, you boor! Come out, she's here!” Moaning something rude at Lyrica, I leave my work here, and I go outside. And there she is. Lunasa, the eldest daughter, is coming back to us after spending a week at her friend-with-benefit's place. Merlin is shouting various happy thing while having one of the widest smile I ever saw, Lyrica is smirking as if she was plotting something mischievous, and I'm just shouting along Merlin. And then I notice who's with Lunasa. I pat Merlin on the shoulder. “Say, Merlin?” “Oooh, already on a first name basis? You kinky little thing, I'm too old and not your type.” “The girl with Lunasa. Who is she?” “Oh come on, you airhead, I told you about her several time! That's Lunasa's girlfriend!” “What.” “Why are you turning green?” Lyrica laughs. “Perhaps he doesn't like lesbians?” “What?!” Lunasa smiles too. A rare sight. “I'm sorry, daddy, I'm disappointing you.” “WHAT?” Lunasa's friend doesn't smile at all. “It's exactly like Lady Saigyouji said. Men are pigs.” “WHAAT?” “Perhaps he wants to participate?” Everyone stop laughing, and look at the scarlet-haired girl. A bit annoyed by the sudden silence, Murmur just nods her head. “I'm sorry. I was just passing by. See ya later.”
“Wake up.” At first, I ignored the man's order. I was feeling fine, sleeping in a comfortable bed, oblivious of the world around me. There was no way for me to obey an order going against my desires.
Until the voice came again, this time slightly angry. “Wake up.” Obeying it, I woke up, and, for one moment, I saw Merlin staring at me. I tried to hold her, to hug her like a father would hug his daughter, but her form melted away, and a stranger stood in her place. I wanted to stand, to ask him what the hell was happening, but my arms were jelly.
I saw him smiling, and I instantly hated him. It was a fake smile, the smile of someone thinking he's a good actor when he's in fact easy to read. It was the smile of someone following a plan, and understanding that, for now, it was all working according to it. I tried to ask him where I was, and what was going on, but I couldn't speak. I could barely lift my eyelids, and the stranger's form was still blurry, like a badly compressed movie. His face was all distorted, like ink underwater, and, other than his smile, the rest of his facial features were blurred beyond recognition. Beyond him, was a bright light, constantly flashing at me. Did I passed out while visiting the dentist?
When he began speaking, it was in a very strange voice, as if he was reciting words without understanding them. “How do you feel? Blink twice if you feel fine.” I blinked only once. “Ha. Listen, you had a bad accident.” I had an hard time understanding his words. Maybe it was a drug, or brain damage, or maybe just an inability to understanding how severe my condition was. This time, I managed to speak a few words. “What happened?” The stranger ignored my question and kept speaking “Don't worry, you're safe now. It will be difficult, but I'm certain we can fix it. We can fix you.” I felt a syringe penetrating my arm, and something cold being injected to me. I fell asleep again.
“... and that's how you... Are you listening?” The nurse gently slapped my shoulder. I shook my head, trying to wake up. When he started speaking, I started dozing off. The scenery in front of me was incredible. Cauldron Lake Lodge, the place I've been living in for undefined reasons, was built overhanging a deep blue lake. The unnatural color was kind of intoxicating each time you looked at it, looking more like a lake of blue paint than a real lake. It looked like a painting, to be honest. “Are you dreaming again?” The nurse Birch grabbed my shoulder and shook me again, and I hated him for that. He tried to be gentle , but under the veil of kindness and empathy, it was easy to read him as a tyrannical and violent man. I pushed his hand back, trying to keep my anger at bay when I answered. “I'm awake. What are we doing here, again?” He viciously smiled as he pointed out. “So you WERE dreaming after all. Don't you remember? It's the weekly visit.” The smile disappeared from his face as he recited his twisted mantra. “Each week, the patient undergoing heavy sedation must visit the clinic.” I silently sighed, as the male nurse took me to the Doctor's office.
I sat on the chair while the young man was organizing his papers. His office was a real mess, and how he managed to get the clinic running despite this was beyond me. “Wait, please, just a little, I'm almost done!” Waiting patiently, I carefully observed the doctor's face. He was young, very young, even if he tried to look older by growing a mustache, nobody would be fooled by it. He was blond, was wearing glasses, and always had some kind of smirk painted on his face, even when he was rummaging through his papers. I couldn't remember his name, but I remember taking a glance at the plate on his desk. It said “Dr. Emil 4̧̀8̢҉̛̀҉ ̶̛͜͏6͏͏1̢͜͞͝ ͏7̡̡͢͜2̧̡̕҉͝ ͟͝͏7̸̸̡̢͘4̷̢ ̕͞6̷̸D̨͢͠҉ ̷̢̨͢6͏̷͠1̛͢ ͢͝6̸̶̛̛E̷̵̛͜ ”. Save for the first name, the rest was illegible. “Okay, I got it!” Holding a folder over his head, the young man shouted in joy, blatantly ignoring the fact that he wasted five minutes looking for something that's been right under his nose the whole time. “Now we can start the interview!” I sighed again. I really hoped that someone would finally explain me what I was doing here.