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Thread 66130 hidden. Un-Hide Thread
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66130 No. 66130 hide watch expand quickreply
Sipping her tea, Yukari watches the beauty of nature in fall.
Using a gap as a chair, she looks over the ocean of orange trees "Ah this is the life."
She relaxes until she finishes her green tea "Such a shame that this will end earlier than usual."
She says frowning remembering the little incident with Yukako and remembering the pain delivered from Reimu from her fight with her.
'Did those needles have to be so big?'
She sighs "Oh well." As she leans into the gap but stops when she felt something... off.
Then she understands, an outsider is going through the Great Hakurei Barrier. What is strange though is that the outsider didn't leave a hole, which while thankful, confuses Yukari on how they didn't leave a mess.
She opens a gap to view this outsider "Well would you look at that." she says to herself.
This outsider is dressed like a hiker, brown coat, bright-blue jeans and a pack back probably filled with a variety of goodies.
The outsider looks rather frail as if a simple breeze can knock them over! They are wearing small round glasses showing blue eyes. Black hair tied back to a pony-tail to keep it from blocking their view.
They look around the area before walking as if already knowing where to go.
"Well this is strange, how did they enter Gensokyo?" The way the outsider enter was like Gensokyo was just a part of the outside world. Perhaps a hole in the barrier? She gaps in the area after the outsider left looking for any holes, but found none.
Yukari scans the area looking for her shikigami, but did not find her "Ran wasn't able to detect it... stupid fox." shaking her head sighing.

What will you do?
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>> No. 67355
File 154371742465.jpg - (223.41KB, 1300x1300, 35602313-cherry-blossom-tree.jpg) [iqdb]
‘There’s no fear in her eyes, willing to fight a monster even though she’s injured… I want to be like that too.’ Jesse admits

They sigh “Reimu, you’re so injured that you have to use the broom to help you walk.” They say

“We’re entering the tree’s mind, right? It has nothing to do with my body!” She argues

Jesse’s eyebrow furrow “What about your mind?” They ask, “Your mood change so suddenly!”

Reimu rolls her eyes “That stupid tree had me awake through the whole night! Of course, I would be mad!” She exclaims twisting the broom into the ground

“But what if it can still hurt you? You would be helpless!” They point out “That’s why you can’t join me.”

“What about you?” She points a finger at them “You’re somehow immune to it?” She accuses

Jesse shrugs “I don’t know, besides this isn’t my first time with the blossom tree, I can handle it.” They explain
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>> No. 67368
I forgot to mention this, but the voting will close at the 9th!
>> No. 67371
No write-in, but that's okay. I will keep on writing.

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66845 No. 66845 hide watch expand quickreply
A theme fitting for the tale ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tXMk-vk7ns
[Tada Rin Toshite - Starry Sky Logic (Kishida Kyoudan & The Akeboshi Rockets)]

Lyrics: http://www.faceorama.com/bluelight/kishidakyoudan/tadarintoshite.html

A story of magic.

Music Collection: https://mega.nz/#F!1BdBzIKZ!bhLzijfM3iyphpueDOKf0g

THREAD 1 >>65260
THREAD 2 >>65548
THREAD 3 >>65922
THREAD 4 >>66462
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>> No. 67365
[x] Attempt to logically, carefully explore the Bamboo Forest of the Lost.
>> No. 67366
[x] Wander aimlessly.
>> No. 67367
[X] Wander aimlessly.

The forest can't make you lose your way if you yourself don't know where you're going. Take that!

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64513 No. 64513 hide watch expand quickreply
Previous thread: >>63805

“Let me see your hand for a second.”

“Sure,” says Momiji, obediently raising her hand up. “What’s up?”

Wordlessly, you grab it. Momiji patiently awaits your next move, but you merely lower your head in embarrassment and interlock your fingers with hers.

“Gallagher,” Momiji says, a hitch of curbed delight in her voice. “Did you... did you want to hold hands?”

“I just thought that this was the most appropriate course of action to show you how I feel. And I didn’t want to leave any room for doubt. Obviously, if I had to say anything, knowing me, I’d just stumble over my words for five minutes straight because I’m no particular expert on articulating my emotions.”

“And you say that you aren’t affectionate?”

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>> No. 67356
[x] Convenience. Something like a phone would make life easier for the both of you.

has to have a camera though, for the potential of lewd selfies.
>> No. 67357
File 154375197850.jpg - (214.74KB, 960x960, b52.jpg) [iqdb]
>> No. 67359
With a phone you can remain in contact. And, considering they're pretty poor, a practical gift is almost always the better choice.

It just happens that, in this case, it is also the most romantic one.

Do want Awoo doing a shellfish

[x] Phone.

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65185 No. 65185 hide watch expand quickreply
Previous Thread: >>64882

[32] "So, apparently I'm water-powered."
[32] "Ohh, by the way? Some redhead tried to murderize me and/or seduce me."

— - — - —

Picking it up, I found it to be both as soft as a newborn cake's butt and as goddamned cold as ice. Was a weird combo, to be honest. Was like it was somehow just pulled fresh from an oven that cooks by cooling somehow. Was left scratching my head more than a little over it, to be honest. Still, I got to relieving it of its papery threads, went about laying it bare before me. Au monchere. ...Or however you say it. Still, I'm being a bit silly now, so I figured I'd take a bite of the thing, finding an even greater shock to the system within.

The hell! The inside was piping hot!

Cold on the outside, hot on the inside and with fluffy, pink icing in a decoratively set pile on top. In the middle of all that, it was topped with further icing saying, 'BOO!' nestled into a neat little alcove among that pink. Although, that was more conjecture, 'cause I kiiiinda turned it into '300!' when I gave it a nibble. Proooobably should read cakey messages before I dig in, but y'know, hindsight still ain't something I have up front. Be kinda weird if I did, 'cause that'd be crotch sight or somethin' weird like that. Then again, she could just really freaking like Spartans, but I had a feeling it was nothing of the sort.

Lunch lady must have some sorta weird magical oven, though. For all its strangeness, and for all of its chilliness, the little cupcake was packed with enough sugar to make it considerable as some sorta confectionary A-bomb. S-bomb? I'd go with F-bomb if I could think up a good word for it. ...Fructose? Think that's somethin' sugary, but I'm not great with crap like that. I just know it's used a heck of a lot on commercials, to be honest.

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>> No. 67253
[x] Hey, looks like that brunette from gym. Man, she's with a couple hotties, too! One's a classy-looking blonde, and the other's wielding a grin that puts mine to shame! Seriously, that bluenette is freaking happy! Neither of them look like first years, though.

I must know what's going on here.
>> No. 67353
[ ] Hey, looks like Red's all by her lonesome. Looks like it's time to crash her crappy party!

What do you mean Red'll get annoyed with us if we do this? Nonsense!
>> No. 67370
As I'm not in the mood for floofs and cute, and my other story is on a short hold for certain reasons (even if the update is basically finished), I'll write some of this!

[X] Hey, looks like Red's all by her lonesome. Looks like it's time to crash her crappy party!

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67033 No. 67033 hide watch expand quickreply
The trepidation of a speeding train coming through with no destination in sight. Anyone riding the abandoned line between reality and fantasy could feel the pervasive foreboding: something awaited at the end of the track, wherever and whenever the train would eventually stop. The eerie violet glow seeping through the windows, obscured by thick, embroidered curtains of velvety touch. Creak after creak of uncertainty. Flickering neon lights, a small rocking, the interior going dark for a fraction of a moment, alone with the things outside. Shadows flashed over the rusting handlebars and adverts for discontinued products. Old scratches and damp spots and shrivelled filling littered out of seats unkempt for decades. And the drone and hiccup of the wagons’ wheels rolling on unending rails, the smell of the incense which Yukari Yakumo had lit to get rid of the stench of mold.

The youkai of boundaries had always had a soft spot for what could only be conceivably called a rust bucket on rails. As long as it suited its purpose, there was no need to spend effort in restoring the train to its former glory, and she had other more convenient methods to travel to the Outside. The velvet curtains were the only concession Yukari had made to making the interior more hospitable, and it was only because, for the first time in years, the Purple Express was carrying a passenger other than her.

The clack of her heels echoed through the train as the youkai slowly made her way across the endless cars. In normal circumstances, there would have been no-one riding this train at all. After all, it had been out of commission for years when she took possession of it, left to rust at an abandoned station. The way Yukari saw it, nobody would miss it, and she was doing everyone a favour by giving the old machine a second life—and for years it had run without stops, across the endless expanse of the boundaries between worlds, until she commanded otherwise. But these were not normal circumstances, and even the Yakumo Express had to reach a station some time.

Eventually, Yukari reached the car where the first passenger of the Express sat by their lonesome:

[]A stout, aloof woman, exiled i
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>> No. 67344
File 154361886188.jpg - (437.18KB, 707x1000, __sendai_hakurei_no_miko_m_u_g_e_n_and_etc_drawn_b.jpg) [iqdb]
In a cell at the basement of the police station, Chino meditated the hours away. She had grown weary of the dull gray walls of her prison by the first couple of hours, and the jailer, napping as he was, had proven to be a terrible conversational partner. Although it was not like she had much to talk about to their ilk. Half a day in the Outside had been enough to prove it was inhabited by ignorant, near-sighted fools. Just having that stray thought was enough for the miko to feel anger and impatience seeping at the fringes of her void. Concentrate.

She forgot about the cell and the lawmen, about the youkai and that gap hag, about her mission and her troubles. She left all behind in pursuit of her inner tranquillity. Instead she focused on the delicate interrelation between her breath, the impulse to control it and the impulse to release it. Breathing, which seemed so mundane and uninteresting at first glance, was actually an enormously complex and fascinating procedure. It was full of small but different variations, if one knew where to look—inhalation and exhalation, long breath and short breath, deep breath, shallow breath, smooth breath and ragged breath. Every breath has a beginning, middle and end. Every inhalation goes through a process of birth, growth and death and every exhalation does the same. The depth and speed of her breathing changed according to her emotional state, the thought that flowed through her mind and the sounds she heard. If one wanted to reach the void, all of those things had to be left behind, until her breathing went along naturally, instinctively. And with the void, the impulse to manipulate it also went away.

The sound of something rattling against the cell put Chino off her centre, and the void flickered again. But she would not let distractions break her focus. She returned her attention to her breath again, to the simple physical sensation of air filling her chest, again, and again, and again, for as long as it took until it the racket sounded worlds away.

Somewhere in this process, she came face-to-face with the sudden and shocking realization that she was completely crazy. Her mind was a shrieking, gibbering madhouse on wheels
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>> No. 67345
And with the 30th and final update of Nanowrimo, here ends Part 1 of this story.

I'll keep writing for it, but I'll definitely be slowing down the frequency of the updates to one every 2-3 days. This update a day has been hellish to keep—and I did fall off the schedule three or four times—, to the point it has had an effect on my health and probably my academic results. By slowing down I think I can keep a healthier pace while improving on the overall quality and lenght of each update. That said, if I end up relapsing in my laziness and not write anything in a week, please kick me in the butt either here or in THP's Discord, where I'll very likely be shitposting instead of writing.

I've seen some criticism about the pacing of the story, and they're absolutely right. Nanowrimo's format doesn't lend itself well to proper pacing for a murder mystery, especially for someone as rusty as me, and I admit at first I had very little idea of where my story was going. Suffice to say, the current choice of sidekick is far from what I initially had planned. That we ended with Hecatia instead of "Chino" was something that only came about as I adapted to your votes. But that's the magic of CYOAs, isn't it?

I hope you're liking my humble story so far. Expect Part 2 to begin next Thursday or Wednesday. The train has quite a few stops left in the line...
>> No. 67346
Heca is best sidekick (and hey, if we keep hanging out with Heca we'll eventually meet the Junky)

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65797 No. 65797 hide watch expand quickreply
1st thread: >>60957

You are a demon.

Your purpose is to answer the call of mortals who are in need of favours from beyond their realm. The craft of summoning interplanar beings such as yourself and binding them to contracts is known as diabolism and those who practice the craft are known as diabolists. As a demon, you are beholden to a particular set of rules, but like mortals, each demon will have their own sense of moral code. Some vehemently work against their masters outside of their contract; others go above and beyond the terms they were given. All demons must at the very least follow the word of their contracts, if not the spirit, and once you has been summoned into the human world, you are unable to leave until your master’s terms are complete or you perish in the process.

Your latest venture to the mortal realm has lead to a tangled web of interesting circumstances.

Your first contractor is Caesar, a young man who seems to have just stepped out of boyhood and leader of a group of supposedly skilled vampire hunters. His companions are Villy, a young girl with the ability to sense lifeforms; Deke, a strong and boisterous fighter; and Luna, a Japanese woman with strange knife-manipulation abilities. Caesar’s contract, detailed at the bottom of this post, has you bound to assist the group in “destroying a powerful adversary.”

The adversary in question is a vampire known as the Scarlet Devil, or Remilia Scarlet, though these names were never explicitly given in the contract. She is notable for her ability to manipulate the future to some degree. Caesar summoned you for this very reason; as you are a being from beyond this realm, Remilia’s hold over fate does not apply to you. After infiltrating her castle, a battle ensued and Caesar’s plans fell apart, so you elected to stay behind to give the vampire hunters an escape. During this time, you felt a surprising connection to Remilia and passed up on an opportunity to kill her in order to learn more about her.

In your
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>> No. 67279
[x] Tell Clara to go down…
- [x] ...the dark hallway. Grab a crystal for light.
>> No. 67313
[X] Tell Clara to go down…
- [X] ...the well-lit hallway. Move quietly and carefully.

I'd imagine if this idea seems sensible to Clara, she probably has an idea for how to neutralize Lavchulie. Better to gamble on the devil you know.
>> No. 67369
Update will likely be in a week or so -- I've been busy this week with Holiday gatherings and such.

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63199 No. 63199 hide watch expand quickreply

… … …

—you rouse: another dreamless night.

You lie in bed a while. Eyes taken of nothing; mind perched on nothing. Absent sense; absent bearing.

You sneeze, and notice yourself.

With a token sniffle you rise from your pillow, leveraging neatly into a pair of bunny slippers at the bedside. Pink and white and fuzzy all, they were the first thing you’d bought yourself when you had finally moved out of that glorified basement of an interception base, resolving never again to suffer the indignity of cold floors in the morning. You throw on a bathrobe, too, garishly floral, and stuff your nightstand pistol into the left pocket, suppressor slotting neatly through the hole in the bottom stitching.

Yawning, you trod over to the washroom and, with a single look in the mirror, cede battle against the bird’s-nest tangle claiming to be your hair. You’ve no plans of meeting anybody today, anyway. Still, you go through the rest of your morning motions, letting the cool water wash away the last remnants of drowsiness.
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>> No. 66992
I apologize for bumping this but is there supposed to be a vote or anything?
>> No. 66993
Not yet, but it's coming. I post snippets early to try and keep at least a little bit of forward momentum.
>> No. 67074
File 15413066239.png - (1.89MB, 1137x1660, bad at apologies.png) [iqdb]
… … …

You find Eri commandeering the chairs outside the examination room, laptop balanced on her knees. A sheet of paper marked with arcane surgeon’s scrawl rests over the right half of the screen, bearing a crease mark down the middle to keep it from curling over. She collates it with a stack of others as you approach, closing her laptop and sandwiching the papers inside.

“Yo.” You wave as you make your way over. “Not in your office?” you remark. It’s not a question; you’re long familiar with her habit of turning up here and there around the base, using physical shifts in perspective to break out of mental holding patterns—so she explained it.

Eri gathers her hands together, resting them atop the machine, and looks up at you with a quiet resignation.

You muster up a friendly smile, holding it out as an olive branch. “Did it work out? I mean— worked out for my end, but for you?” you chatter. “Get any useful data, or? What’d the surgeon say?—”

“Iris,” she says, finally.

You give her the time she needs to put her words in order.

She continues. “I . . . more than anything else, I’m relieved there were no complications. And I should thank you for having endured under— such extemporised preparations.” She pauses, voice dwindling near to a whisper. “If . . . you feel that I—if I have—crossed any boundaries, I’m prepared—”
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66462 No. 66462 hide watch expand quickreply
♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRj1EfwRnQI

The story of...

THREAD 1 >>65260
THREAD 2 >>65548
THREAD 3 >>65922
251 posts and 53 images omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No. 66843

Huh, you're probably right.

>>66839 here, changing my vote to:
[X] ... really open the floor by talking about myself. She might be used to Outsiders, but I’m far from an ordinary one.
>> No. 66844
gonna set up a new thread, post there of course for ya votes so I can be more aware of the existence of new posts
>> No. 66886
File 153728241157.jpg - (315.50KB, 1000x900, drink.jpg) [iqdb]
THREAD 5 >>66845

image source: https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=37233109

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66010 No. 66010 hide watch expand quickreply
You open your eyes again, but you don’t see the dark streets of the city, disgruntled passersby, or fellow drunkards. Instead, it’s the warm glow of a quiet kitchen — her kitchen. It was cozy, as was the rest of the house — distinctly upper-class, but not big enough for servants. That was her dowry, absurd as it was. When you discovered it had been the house she stayed in since she was a child, things made a lot more sense: it had never really been your home. It was the princess’s playhouse, where she could pretend.

Just like now. Washing dishes. She was good at that — cleaning. It’s no wonder why. She turns away from the running water with the most delicate smile you’ve ever seen. “Another late night?”

You lean on the wall, keeping the length of the room between the two of you. “Whatever keeps me away from you.”

Her hand on the wet plate stops for a moment, then resumes. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were an abusive husband.”

You weren’t abusive, but you weren’t the best. Long hours, late calls, and a lot of pent-up stress and anxiety dominated most of your relationship.

“Let’s pretend I was the perfect husband,” you say. “Would it have mattered at all?”

She looks back at the sink and grabs another plate. “What do you think?”

You’ve considered it, again and again and again. Where would you both be if you hadn’t become a detective? If you were at home with her more often? If you appreciated her more instead of using her as a reprieve from a hard day at work? Would you be speaking with her in reality, instead of this twisted dream? Would you still have your old life?
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>> No. 66728
[X] Focused hatred. Attack with ferocity, and dodge her attacks. You aren’t playing around.
>> No. 66811
[x] Whimsical madness. Ignore the pain with a smile. Play along with her game, and then break the rules.

I think this would be the more appropriate option.
>> No. 66951
This isn't dead, I promise. The situation is: I write the most for this during downtime at my job, but now my workload is kind of a nightmare and I haven't been able to finish an update. Slowly but surely, I promise it's being worked on.

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65922 No. 65922 hide watch expand quickreply
A theme fitting for the tale ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BooDupEyp84

Winter is here, but Spring will come soon, right?

THREAD 1 >>65260
THREAD 2 >>65548
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>> No. 66496
>When Master Patchouli was born as a Magician, alongside natural magical prowess she only had the abandonment of food, not the abandonment of temper.
After looking into it, "abandon temper" seems like a really bizarre mistranslation of the magic magicians use to become immortal. It is literally Remove Bug magic, which SEEMS like it relates to the Three Corpses, or the Three Worms that Miko discusses here: https://en.touhouwiki.net/wiki/Symposium_of_Post-mysticism/Bunbunmaru_Newspaper_8

So consider this "abandonment of worms" instead. The idea is that the magician gets rid of the worms/bugs in the body that cause eventual death in all living things. I am honestly not certain this is what the idea is, but the kanji is read 捨虫 and that (specifically 虫), as far as I know, can in no way be interpreted as temper. It's an interesting idea that I will probably have to talk about more than this offhand mention here. Gen would surely be weirded out that the Taoist idea is something Magicians believe in, and that it's actually "real" as far as he can tell. Let's say that because he's not interested in immortality, he has yet to think of the implications of the magic "捨虫" (remove bug(s)).
>> No. 66527
Tracks used:

Title - Album (Circle)

そして今日も紅魔館の扉は開く - 東方アイリッシュ (Floating Cloud)
BATTLE! Fantasy Maiden - 幻奏演舞 幻想人形演舞MusicCollection (Fantasy Puppet Dance Performance)
Birth of a God - Final Fantasy VII
The Doll Maker of Bucuresti 【classic guitar】 - (Guitaryuya)
Starry Night Flight - Starlight Prelude (hatsunetsumiko's)
響縁 - 東方猫鍵盤3 (BUTAOTOME)
Under the Quiet Moon ~The Girl From Fantasy~ - シンクロニシティ (hatsunetsumiko's)
Dream Express ~ Red / White (thC36) - Concealed the Conclusion
Deceitful Wings (album mix) - Atelier Iris ETERNAL MANA Arranged Tracks
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>> No. 66753
File 153608812122.gif - (1.47MB, 700x990, bright-and-happy-battle.gif) [iqdb]
I figured it out!

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