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Previous Thread: >>26706

Sorry about the delay, folks.

[x] Try some flying and see Gensokyo from above, maybe we might catch a sunset.

I think some flying exercise would be a good idea, not to mention viewing the sunset together would be romantic. "I was thinking about practicing some flying and letting you take me to a few places," I say. Wriggle's seen more of Gensokyo beyond the village than I have, so I’ll let her take the lead.

"Alright! I'll be sure to watch in case you get tired since you haven’t flown this far before. I can think of a few spots… but I'm avoiding the lake in case that ice fairy feels like picking a fight again. One of these days, she's going to provoke something she can't beat, though I doubt that's slow her down much" Wriggle says. I follow her as she rises up into the air.

The land beyond the village spreads out as we go higher: I can see the misty lake and that mansion near the shore, though I don't know how to feel about that shade of red. "…Let’s head somewhere else," Wriggle says. "That color gives me a bad feeling." I nod, and she turns to head towards the shrine.

As we get closer, we turn away from it and fly over the forest. I notice the run down mansion that serves as the Prismriver sisters' home. "How can they live there?" Wriggle asks.

"They're poltergeists, so the things that would usually bother you or me don’t affect them that much. If anything it's more of a defensive measure to keep visitors away. They have less to worry about than most flesh and blood creatures."
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Go with whatever lets you write the story that you'll enjoy writing.
Just remove choices; I was already planning on streamlining things

I do also want to write what my fans enjoy and finding a way to offset the gaps.

please pardon any trip muckery I'm trying to remember the exact bits. I'll try to work on it some more this week... that's all I can remotely promise.
As someone who only just found this story, I do hope to see it continue, whether or not it’s in CYOA form, it’s been a great read thus far.

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You have no name and you must potato.

Sweet potatoes, to be exact.

'Tis the season, yet none are to be seen.


The Forest of Magic is cold this early morning, and you've just woken upon a bed of out-of-season lilies in the shade of a tree. How will you sate your hunger for Sweet Potatoes?

[ ] Search the Forest
- [ ] aimlessly. Who knows what you'll run in to?
- [ ] for Marisa's Magic Shop. Maybe Sweet Potatoes are a magic ingredient you can buy?
- [ ] for Alice's Cottage. She goes shopping in the village. Perhaps she has some potato to share.
- [ ] for Cirno. She's your bestest friend. She should totally get in on this!
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[x] Soothe the bunny by patting her head. Don't worry, she'll be smart someday.
[x] Soothe the bunny by patting her head. Don't worry, she'll be smart someday.
[x] Get to the point and get your answer.

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[ ] Aye, if she asks, you must trust your dear dollmaker.

In the end your mind swiftly streams through trammeling twists, for this question is no question at all. So you nod slightly, so with a small smile your dear dollmaker draws back and the two of you walk after the shield-thane once more.

"I don't think anyone's going to like what they see, when we gat back out however." Alice then tells you her voice surprisingly flat for soch a grave announcement.

"You know this well, I would wager." You answer her, the words bringing a chuckle from the Seven-Coloured Sorceress.

"I left Shanghai to keep an eye on Marisa." Alice answers you with a sly smile. "It's a trick we use sometimes."

You steal a swift glance at her and see that it is how she tells, the small puppet is nowhere in sight.

You feel strangely disappointed by this fact.

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Fallout Gensokyo has revived after a hiatus of 6 YEARS.

After that, you have to BELIEVE.
New years; new hopes.
This is a woderful tale of magic and mystery, of gods and mortal man. Although it may never be completed and fade away, I can only thank the author of this story for creating it. It has once again shown me why I love norse mythology and mythology in general.

Good fortune to the creator of this tale wherever he may be.

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Current Strand: 5.875

Previous Strands:
1 - missing
2 - missing
3 - missing
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5 - missing
5.8 - >>29818
5.85 - >>30272
5.875 - >>30675

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>Partly because we seemed very close to the end
You weren't.

>I don't think I will ever see a story just like this one again
Probably not.

>I hope your strange needs are fulfilled by you other project.
Precisely to the point of surgery.

Most likely:
Elly, the personification of objective evil as defined by the greatest proportion of humanity in consensus on the topic of 'evil' at any one point in time, re-instated the great flood from the aether torn, and drowned all besides Schutz, kept afloat atop the ocean of the dead in a stolen redheaded psychopomp's boat

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misc. thing
Objective Evil would have been something besides the flood in antediluvian times.
ah, and Noah's ark, Utnapishtim's weird box boat, etc also work to float above the waters of the dead.

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You’re sittin’ on the shop floor, goods arrayed in front of you like you’re the one barkin’ wares here instead of Rinnosuke. Discs, specifically, and specifically set out in stacks like you’re mid-solvin’ the easier Tower of Hanoi—though really, it oughta be a “Tower of Lucas”, seein’ as ya seriously doubt that that tale the dude spun ever came anywhere close to outta Vietnam. Or India, for that matter. That legend’s got the same sorta faux-exotic stink over it as “may ya live in interestin’ times.”

But anyways, discs. And stacks.

“Okay, Mac, check it,” ya say. “This is the stack of discs I’m beaucoup sure’re music CDs. Like, ninety, ninety-five percent sure. Genre I don’t always know ‘cause alotta these dudes I’ve never heard of—” this dude on this disc’s got a sax, though; that’s usually a good sign, “—but like I said, music. Most likely music. Eighty-five percent sure, music.”

Rinnosuke, sittin’ across from you, squints suspiciously. “Why is that number decreasing?” he asks.

“This stack, meanwhile, is what I’m pretty comfy labelin’ the games and programs stack,” you continue ‘splainin’. “Comfier than with the other stack, even, ‘cause the labels’re usually more of a giveaway. I’m talkin’ maybe like, seventy-five, eighty percent sure I’ve got it right here.”

“You’ve already lost fifteen percent. Are you sure I should trust your appraisal?”

“Well, if you can pull another dude with better Outsider chops, I’d totally be down for a second opinion. Two heads, right?”

“‘Two heads’?”
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That's pretty sad, I'm going to miss the story. If there's something this site doesn't need is more stories dying.
Author here (on his phone).

It's not dead, it's just elsewhere, which is a lot better than being dead, is my opinion. But, well, y'know.

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Current Strand: 5.875

Previous Strands:
1 - missing
2 - missing
3 - missing
4 - missing
5 - missing
5.8 - >>29818
5.85 - >>30272

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1500 words in.

I'm currently moving houses and have a very important scientific report due in three days.

Usually slow update speed is due to my slow writing speed despite how much time I sink in, but in this case I'm lacking motivation. Been focusing most of my creative efforts on designs for something else (not a public project).

I'll try to get it out within a week.

END: 5.875

BEGIN: 5.8875


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"Fire on deck!"

The shrill cry goes out and a bell tolls somewhere deep within the ship, clanging out a warning. Dirty orange flames tinged sooty black seep across the smooth steel deck rolling around with the list of the ship sending the fire rolling as it singes the mist, the thick black smoke billowing into the hazy white air, smog that reeks of sulfur conjuring images of a blazing hell.

"Why is it always fire?" You mutter bitterly at the ship sailing past your vision, a tiny vessel no bigger than a fishing boat with a pathetic engine that chugs in protest to it's work load, it drifts almost leisurely through the towering flames. As it sweeps past you notice the hull hasn't been touched by the heat or even the smoke, the bright red paint of humble wood is spotless, perhaps treated to be resistant to it's own weapon? You're amazed that anyone would attempt to attack a ship of your size and class in a civilian vessel, yet seconds ago is sprung forth from the fog with no warning or lights to spew gouts of that sticky orange flame at you. Mounted upon the prow of this petite pirate ship is a mysterious device seemingly made of pumps, tanks and tubes set in gleaming brass that spits fire like dragon's breath with a steaming hiss.

"Return fire! Don't let them get close enough for a second strike!"
"Enemy vessel has already left visual range, captain!"

Of course, to deny you any retaliation the smaller ship has slipped off between the narrow channels between the towering islands here, you had hoped these foggy straights would hamper pursuit or even make them lose the trail entirely but now it seems your ambusher is using the terrain against you. By moving through the small, almost porous gaps between the crushing gray rock your opponent can perform a surprise attack from almost any direction while you are forced to follow your prescribed "safe" course through it all.

The bridge is a flurry of activity as all hands do their duty with admirable diligence, but wide eyes and panicked energy reveal the under current of nerves, or even fear, present in your girls at the prospect of an
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I finished reading it several months ago.

I will wait for you, Scorn, or whatever your name is right now.
This story is a good story. Believe me.
story is ded, surprise big not
There's a reason we put sage in the email field - it's so we don't randomly bump stories where the author's gone AWOL for extended periods of time... particularly when the last posts were four and nine years ago.

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**This was written late at night while just as sleepy as Marisa. Future installments will be shorter, but more coherent.**

You are Marisa Kirisame. Ordinary Witch extraordinaire, kleptomaniac, and self-proclaimed best girl of Gensokyo. Also not a morning person. Then again, when being a "morning person" means waking up with the sun, who would? That question rolls through your head for the thousandth time as you attempt to climb out of bed. "Attempt" is the key word, here. You don't really manage to make it out of bed before tripping over the blankets you forgot to push back and tumbling headfirst into a pile of (stolen) books.

*That* gets you awake. Nothing like a headache to start off the day! With a grimace, you grasp your head with one hand and start re-stacking the books. Some of these you don't even remember taking. "Cryomancy vol. I: A Study of Entry Level Ice Magicks" you *definitely* don't remember taking. And to top that off, you don't think you have a real reason to be taking it. Ice magic doesn't interest you except for dealing with a cranky Cirno, and even then a few well placed lasers work just as well. Better to just blast her and let her reform than try to reason with a fairy. Never mind that last time you tried to "reason" with Cirno in one of her moods you ended up in the Misty Lake having to swim back to shore. Setting that thought line aside, you arrange the stack neatly and read the titles on the spines, seeing if there's any you should actually read instead of setting them aside in a "to-do" list. Surprisingly, there is, in fact, one book you like: "Warp vol. V: A Study of Advanced Spatial Manipulation and Other Dimensional Magicks". Sure, the title is a mouthful, but anything about how to get into other dimension should be an interesting read, no?

The headache and your sleepiness forgotten, you open up the book, prop yourself against your bed, and start reading.

**Where will you start?**
[]Chapter 1: Spatial Magicks in Review
[]Chapter 13: Wormholes and Other Shortcuts
[]Chapter 20: Creating Pocket Dimensions
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Summer has arrived early, making doing anything a slog. Fret not, I have plans.
Annnd I mistakenly put the sage in the wrong field. Hazards of phoneposting while trying to sleep.
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Current Strand: 5.85

Previous Strands:
1 - missing
2 - missing
3 - missing
4 - missing
5 - missing
5.8 - >>29818

255 posts and 54 images omitted. Click Reply to view.

This is a slow-to-write update. Time-debt for the prior two which were faster than most.
3000+ words. Unless there be reason to continue writing, I'll edit and post.

Update tomorrow? New thread tomorrow?

END: 5.85

BEGIN: 5.875


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So, third time’s the charm, right? I’mma give this another shot, and hope that I can actually…you know, finish a story this time.


There are days where you just don’t want to get out of bed. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you still gotta, but sometimes you really, REALLY wish you could lie in bed and tell the world to buzz off. Maybe it was the training I had back at my last home, or living out in this ‘magic forest’, but something had tipped me off that I needed to get up and moving.


Had I been anywhere else, or any other time, I would have told my instincts to shut it, but with a groan, I dived out of the hammock. That got me a few seconds to think before the little girl who had been hunting me for the last three days brought her jaw down where my arm had been moments ago..

“Really, again?” I sighed, jumping to my feet and stretching.

“Yeah! They told me you taste like jerky!” The little girl was practically bursting with excitement as she spoke. She flashed me that little devilish grin, and I knew talking would be just as pointless as the last three days. “I want another bite! All I got was smoke and chalk last time!”

That made me chuckle. Poor girl tried to bite my left arm in a surprise attack the day before yesterday. Unfortunately for her, I had lost that a few weeks ago in an accident. Fortunately for me, I have enough control over ash and smoke to make a working replacement from it.
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Throwing up a status update for everyone.

Due to a new job and a convention, I'm going to throw this story up on hiatus until the second week or so of July.

Hopefully, by then I'll have a more solid idea of where the story is going, since It's not the same one I planned to tell, and that's a good thing.
Ok then. Good luck.
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I'm alive, and under a new name. Kinda. Long story short, I got into a lot of different things, and many of them kept me from even being able to look back here till recently.

So here is a small interlude while I work on the real update.

Almost forgot the image.


“What do you make of it, Lady Hijiri?”

“It's an interesting tale... and a worrying one. This could bring a much greater danger than we thought if we ignore it, assuming it is not a falsehood. What do your friends say?”

“Unfortunately, I didn't have anyone near the Mansion at the time, nor have I been able to get anyone in.”

“An unfortunate development. That maid is commendable in that part of her job.”
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