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File 157837514861.webm - (3.53MB, 1616x908, yue ni odoru.webm) [iqdb]
♫: https://youtu.be/0rVqj8PGTXA
[オメガリズム - Omega Rhythm (UPLIFT SPICE)]
Lyrics: https://releska.com/2015/11/23/omega-rhythm/
Music Collection: https://mega.nz/#F!1BdBzIKZ!bhLzijfM3iyphpueDOKf0g

A tale of fools and lovers.

Open to critique, criticism, and praise. Mostly praise!
(I'm kidding, you can say whatever)
Comment kindly!

Histories of Yatsugatake, a Suika backstory short: >>>/shorts/2180
THREAD 1 >>65260 THREAD 2 >>65548
THREAD 3 >>65922 THREAD 4 >>66462
THREAD 5 >>66845 THREAD 6 >>67429
Expand all images
File 157837615217.png - (805.83KB, 826x855, shuten-aneki.png) [iqdb]
File 157845555211.jpg - (522.00KB, 1200x841, SDM time.jpg) [iqdb]
[X] Nightwish’s Wish I Had An Angel. (Flandre loved it)

Once more they were in the Library. The matter of Youkai Mountain was not discussed.

Although Gen would eye his Master suspiciously on some occasions when her eyes were put elsewhere, he did not ask if she had spoken to him within a dream and he did not bring up the unacceptable present state of his quest. He still had more than a week to accomplish it, so kvetching now was not needed—even if he had kvetched while in the World of Dreams.

To be frank: he did not wish to even be in the same space as his Master until he was absolutely certain he was on the right track. Presenting himself before her as “together” and “not a bumbling fool” was very important to him.

“You look as if something is concerning you.”

[ ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UFI0dms5LM ]
[Specialist - Persona 4 (Meguro Shoji)]

“Hm!?” He grunted this with a fool-smile on, lifting his cheek from his fist and blinking (he had been slouching over a table). Patchouli had struck the nail precisely on its head. He pretended as if she hadn’t, and replied, “No?”

“Gen is upset that I found what he couldn’t,” said Sakuya, who was almost sitting on the same tables at which he was resting. She pointed at the adapter, which she’d told Patchouli she had found in Muenzuka while Gen had failed at Kourindou. “And though it was only a flip of a coin which of us, if not either, would find success. Isn’t he precious? He is that desperate for your favor, Lady Patchouli.”

It was a lie they hadn’t agreed on, but Gen appreciated how quickly Sakuya had come up with it.

“Well, precious or not he should get rid of that foul mood. His bothered face is just a bother to me,” said Patchouli. She then turned to look at who was sat on the couch beside her. In the meanwhile, Sakuya looked Gen’s way and gave the miserable-looking apprentice an apologetic shrug and smile.

The one seated next to Patchouli Knowledge was Flandre Scarlet, wearing an old, brown, pair of studio-work headphones and bouncing joyfully in her seat.

She sang “I’m in love with my lust, burning angel wings to dust!”; evidently her favorite lyric of the song she had listened to several times now.

The iPod was functional. It had come with six songs, though oddly they seemed to be nothing akin to the kinds of sample music Gen thought one would typically find on a fresh device, though the number of songs to sample was about the usual. In any case the tastes of whomever had added the songs were... eclectic. There had been a heartfelt pop song from America, another with R&B stylings from Japan, a famous “noise”-y and frightening song by Aphex Twin, a song from a Japanese band he hadn’t heard of that blended pop and hip hop in a way he found delightful, and there was the song Flandre was listening to: a song from the band called Nightwish. He only knew a bit of them, but apparently their bombastic, “epic”-styled rock operatic and orchestral flavor struck just the right chord with his younger Mistress.

Moments before his Master had caught him staring worriedly at her, she, he, Sakuya, Flandre, and Meiling (who was no longer present) had been discussing the songs and which they thought the master of the house, Remilia Scarlet, would enjoy listening to first... or rather, which they would each like their Mistress to listen to first. Meiling had liked the foreign pop song, his Master had liked the pop/R&B song from Japan. He and Flandre had their favorites, but the only person who didn’t seem to favor any song in particular had been Sakuya. Sakuya wanted her Mistress to listen to Aphex Twin. Her wicked intentions were worn plain on her sleeve.

It was Gen who was allowed to ultimately decide, and seeing as his younger Mistress was so fond of Nightwish, he was leaning toward leading with that for Remilia.

“Ahh, it’s great...!” Flandre sounded exhausted as she pulled the headphones down from her ears to around her neck. She looked content: eyes closed and a single fang protruding from her smiling lips. She opened her eyes to look at the iPod’s screen as she navigated the short song list with its circular pad. “I like Aphex Twin’s song, too!” she declared.

“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” agreed Sakuya, beaming with a serpentine lean. Patchouli and Gen looked at the made with evident exasperation.

“Let’s have Remi listen to the songs when night falls,” said Patchouli, calling a book from a shelf and settling down as Flandre hit “play” on Aphex Twin’s Come to Daddy. Soon the youngest vampire’s head was lightly bopping, and the two magicians were side-eyeing her uncomfortably.

Night won’t fall for a while, thought Gen. I’d better have something else to do.

He glanced at Sakuya.


He wanted to use magic to create or summon a “self-warming cloth”. He also didn’t want his Master to realize that that was his intention. As she’d already caught him looking into gods and artifacts, she would know that that avenue which he had been looking into only just that earlier morning had already proved a dead end. Then, she would question him about that. And, he would have to answer.

That thus returned to point one. Shielding his pride was paramount, and still very much doable.

He was thinking...

[] getting Sakuya to help would likely be a safe bet. She could easily get him books with Patchouli being none the wiser.

[] Sakuya was a bit too much of a wild card to truly “rely” on—or rather, she perhaps wouldn’t be keen on him “pushing his luck”, as it were. The fairy maids, however, were straightforward and simple. They, though wild and stupid and frank, could actually potentially assist him best.

[] researching within the library, or using the library’s resources, was just too much of a risk. No... instead he’d pay the sleeping Marisa a visit, and he would convince her to help instead. A Founding Father of America once said something to the effect, “an enemy that has done you a favor—a kindness, will be only more ready to do for you another”.
[X] Sakuya was a bit too much of a wild card to truly “rely” on—or rather, she perhaps wouldn’t be keen on him “pushing his luck”, as it were. The fairy maids, however, were straightforward and simple. They, though wild and stupid and frank, could actually potentially assist him best.

[X] Sakuya was a bit too much of a wild card to truly “rely” on—or rather, she perhaps wouldn’t be keen on him “pushing his luck”, as it were. The fairy maids, however, were straightforward and simple. They, though wild and stupid and frank, could actually potentially assist him best.

Please, your fairy maids are fucking adorable
[x] Sakuya was a bit too much of a wild card to truly “rely” on—or rather, she perhaps wouldn’t be keen on him “pushing his luck”, as it were. The fairy maids, however, were straightforward and simple. They, though wild and stupid and frank, could actually potentially assist him best.
Maids are as reliable as a loaded gun from 1920. No way.

[x] researching within the library, or using the library’s resources, was just too much of a risk. No... instead he’d pay the sleeping Marisa a visit, and he would convince her to help instead. A Founding Father of America once said something to the effect, “an enemy that has done you a favor—a kindness, will be only more ready to do for you another”.

You owe us you witch.
[x] researching within the library, or using the library’s resources, was just too much of a risk. No... instead he’d pay the sleeping Marisa a visit, and he would convince her to help instead. A Founding Father of America once said something to the effect, “an enemy that has done you a favor—a kindness, will be only more ready to do for you another”.
[X] Sakuya was a bit too much of a wild card to truly “rely” on—or rather, she perhaps wouldn’t be keen on him “pushing his luck”, as it were. The fairy maids, however, were straightforward and simple. They, though wild and stupid and frank, could actually potentially assist him best.

there is 0 chance relying on the fairy maids can go wrong
[X] Sakuya was a bit too much of a wild card to truly “rely” on—or rather, she perhaps wouldn’t be keen on him “pushing his luck”, as it were. The fairy maids, however, were straightforward and simple. They, though wild and stupid and frank, could actually potentially assist him best.

I wouldn't even mind if the fairies made things go awry.
File 157966993699.jpg - (236.81KB, 854x295, today's three troublemakers.jpg) [iqdb]
image source: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/2593687


[X] Sakuya was a bit too much of a wild card to truly “rely” on—or rather, she perhaps wouldn’t be keen on him “pushing his luck”, as it were. The fairy maids, however, were straightforward and simple. They, though wild and stupid and frank, could actually potentially assist him best.

I’ll go and rally them— he decided, no gifts, otherwise they’ll talk about it.

Alright, it’s settled.

He looked up from the table, the surface of which he had been gazing into while planning. His gaze was met with Sakuya’s, and the maid kindly asked, “Is something the matter?”

“I’m planning another coup,” he replied.

Her brow raised. “Ohh...” she breathed. “Be less troublesome about it this time, hm?”

He smiled and told her, “I will!”

“I hope you’re just joking, Gen. I will have no chaos on a day we give Remi a gift,” said his Master, staring at him from afar.

“No chaos,” he swore, hand raised.

“Not an ounce of it,” she demanded, and he nodded, standing from his chair.

“I’ll be back by dinner time,” he announced.

“Stay safe.”

“Fare well, Gen.”

It’s au-tomaaatic~!” sang Flandre.

He swiveled on the toe of his shoe and exited the space, and eventually the library.


According to a few maids he stopped, today a number of fairies were relaxing in one of Remilia’s studies on the first floor, pretending to be refined. He made his way, opened the door to that study, and interrupted them.

“Are there any fairies in here?” he asked.

[ ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FD4bSgQXT0 ]
[Afternoon Break - Persona 3 (Meguro Shoji)]

“Why, yes, Master Itou, there are seven fairies in the room,” declared one of the seven, seated in a scarlet armchair with a copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar open atop her lap. This fairy was named Parchment, and this was not the first time she’d acted this way.

“... Where did you get a monocle?” he asked, his shoulders slumping as he closed the door behind himself.

“Hmhmhm... Ahahahahaha!! I am very glad you asked!” she chuckled, laughed, and gave an enthusiastic shout.

“‘Where did you get it?’—Ohohoho! ‘Where’, asks the human!” said another fairy in a separate couch.

“One may as well ask how glass is made!” said another with a scoff.

“And everybody knows how glass is made,” bragged one sitting on a bookshelf.

“Glass is made in ovens!” declared one sat a few feet away from him on the floor, reading a different children’s book before her.

“Yes, like cakes,” affirmed one who was sitting on the floor to the left of the doorway and fiddling with an armillary sphere. She closed her eyes and wagged her finger at the human in front of the door, as if chastising him.

“Heh heh...” chuckled the last, sipping tea at a small table to his right. Smiling, she looked into her cup and queried, “... Wasn’t if furnaces?”




“I’d much rather talk about cakes.”

“We should have some cake.”

“Yes! Gen, have you brought cake?”

“I haven’t brought any cake.”

“Then why are you here!?” yelled Parchment, to a following chorus of “Yeah!” from the rest.

This yellow-haired fae was outraged, her tiny fist slammed onto a page of mainly sweets through which the titular Caterpillar ate through in the story.

“Did you all find a radio or something?” Does radio even make it through the barrier? “Why are you all talking like that?” asked Gen, his face twisted in consternation.

“We are being like the Mistress you prolotratertaetrite.”

“I—what?” he asked, slouching now.




“It was proletariat,” said the faint blue-haired, tea-sipping fairy. Her name was Coffee Sugar.

“Coffee, why are you with Parchment?” Gen posed the question, looking directly at her. This was a rarer sort of fairy, and he most often saw her on her lonesome if ever—or with Mistress Remilia. She was a fairy who tended to prefer solitary pursuits.

“Parch stole a sugar cube and gave it to me,” she explained. Parchment swiveled her head quick and became panicked.

“Oh my god!” the blond cried. “Shut up!”

“What?” asked Coffee, genuinely confused.

Parchment quickly looked to him and begged, “Gen, please don’t tell Miss Sakuya!” Her hands were now gripping both the armrests at her sides. At the mention of their boss’s name, the rest of the maids sans-Coffee seemed to grow concerned as well.

Gen blinked. “... You wanted Coffee to teach you how to be refined?” he posited.

At once, the fairies aside from Coffee became red-faced and ashamed, hiding their glowing cheeks in their hands.

He began to grin. “Forget telling Miss Sakuya,” he said, “I have to tell the Mistress about this.”

“Don’t! That’s so embarrassing!” screamed Parchment.

“It’s mortifying!”

“It’s horrible!”

“Oh, what a world!”

“I’m melting!”

“Quiet,” he hissed. Coffee indicated that she wanted his attention, beckoning it with her hand. He looked at her quizzically.

“Gen, can you make sugar cubes with magic...!?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

No,” he said flatly, and she flinched, now looking just as mortified as the others in the room.

“Th-Then... getting me more sugar—”

“I’m not even allowed in the pantry, you know?” he answered.

“Oh no...” moaned Coffee, her free hand raised and wavering. She whispered, “I’m melting...”

“OH, WHAT A WORLD!” cried the fairy on the floor before him.

“Oh, Jesus,” he grumbled. This was becoming a chain reaction. “I won’t tell anyone!” he snapped. They all lifted their heads and looked at him with burgeoning hope—except Coffee, who was still horribly upset. Ignoring that, he informed them, “Rather, I came to you on business.”

“Eh? Work?” asked the fairy on the bookshelf.

“You all have jobs, don’t you?” he reminded them, his voice tired.

The one at his left straightened her back. From her place on the floor she looked at him sternly and asked, “You’re gonna order us, then? On whose authority?”

“Oh god...”

“Our orders come direct from the masters of the house and you, Sir Gen, are an apprentice,” the fairy argued.

Her name was May Truce. Like Coffee she wasn’t... without intelligence. She kept her hair short and proper, and she wore large spectacles not out of necessity, but as a statement. She adjusted those glasses now, their lenses catching the lamplight from the walls of the room.

“Parchment called me ‘Master’ Itou earlier,” he noted.

“That was a different ‘master’,” the fairy clarified, holding her hands in front of her as if she were holding the word itself. She moved her hands to her right side and said, “Not master, but master.”

Her distinction was clear enough in Japanese and, to Gen, absolutely irritating.

“Do I really have to argue with you, Miss Truce?” he questioned.

“It’s ‘Mistress Truce’ to you, preposterate!” said May with an emphatic point at his face.

“Proletariat...” Coffee corrected, still nearly weeping.

“Proletariat Gen!!” May shouted.

“Working class Gen!” Parchment followed with zeal, having found her strength again.



“Bourgeois Gen!”

“Gentry Gen!”

“That’s not right...” Coffee moaned off to the side. Gen put one hand on his hip and the other to his chin, frowning.

Alright, fine... he thought, what’s the next move?

[] Remind them you’ve led them before.

[] Lie about it, say you’re bringing orders from someone else.

[] Attempt to redirect their focus again,
----[] now on the subject of sugar cube magic.
----[] now on the armillary sphere.
----[] back on Parchment’s monocle.


Note: Gen lied and he absolutely can make sugar cubes with magic, or at least he can if he looks into it. Marisa makes candy stars after all.
[x] Attempt to redirect their focus again,
----[x] now on the subject of sugar cube magic.
[X] Remind them you’ve led them before.

How quickly do stars fall of they've forgotten about the great '19 rebellion
[x] Attempt to redirect their focus again,
----[x] now on the subject of sugar cube magic.

Coffee needs her sugar.
[x] Remind them you’ve led them before.
heada lead
tails cube

Coin flip: heads!
File 15800957321.png - (1.49MB, 1254x1254, the one in charge.png) [iqdb]
image source: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/77076064


[♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xzdgIYzoZUY ]
[Lindblum - Final Fantasy IX OST (Uematsu Nobuo)]

[X] Remind them you’ve led them before.

Gen took a leader’s posture – one of confidence and sureness – in an instant. Seeing this, the rest straightened their postures as well—even Coffee, who had been crying (and was now sniffling).

So, he spoke, querying: “Who was it who commanded you lot not three days ago through the forests of Gensokyo, seeking treasures?”

“It was Sir Gen,” answered Parchment.

“And not long before that? The one who led Livy, Shimmer, Panora, and Lev in the investigation behind who was drawing humans and youkai to The Shrine?”

“That was Gen...” answered Coffee.

“And you should know:” began the Apprentice, looking down at May beside him with a cool, presidential façade, “who it was just last year who instigated and directed the rebellion against the rest of the Mansion—the one who you all followed into battle against Sakuya?”

“You, Gen,” the little maid replied.

“I am the second-in-command of the fairy maid contingent in Scarlet Devil Mansion!” he declared to the rest of the room, standing at-ease and keeping his chin up. “Stand!”

They all did so, taking the proper maidly postures which Sakuya had taught them: spines straight, heads held high, and hands placed neatly before their aprons.

He looked them over then, and said, “I have something for you lot to do.”


The idea was only to get them to act. He ordered this task force of fae to find him three categories of things from the library: books on fairy lifestyle, books on enchantment, and books on sealing. The books about their race were meant as a distraction—of which he would have liked one or two other categories to rest assured, but... three categories, all, was a safe number for the unintelligent pseudo children of the Mansion to likely keep in mind.

While they gathered, he walked through the mansion’s halls. He had time before evening and more time before they would be done. He wondered how he might spend it?

[] By returning to the library in a bold showing that the one responsible for the fairies’ taking of books could not possibly be him. Also, to see his Master, younger Mistress, and his colleague Sakuya.

[] By going to see Miss Meiling. They hadn’t had too much time together of late, aside from during tai chi practice.

[] By going to see Wakasagihime. He could always make time for the Princess.
[x] By going to see Miss Meiling. They hadn’t had too much time together of late, aside from during tai chi practice.
[x] By going to see Miss Meiling. They hadn’t had too much time together of late, aside from during tai chi practice.

As much as I adore the fish, Meiling has been unfortunately absent for a while
[x] By going to see Miss Meiling. They hadn’t had too much time together of late, aside from during tai chi practice.

She's pretty cute ngl.
[x] By going to see Miss Meiling. They hadn’t had too much time together of late, aside from during tai chi practice.
File 158105187036.jpg - (550.10KB, 1000x1200, Sup Gen.jpg) [iqdb]
[X] By going to see Miss Meiling. They hadn’t had too much time together of late, aside from during tai chi practice.


A whistle carried on the wind.

At the gates of Scarlet Devil Mansion, its red-haired guard was dutifully keeping watch—standing at ease and passing the time with a tune. Not one in particular: a nonsense melody, for the hell of it. There was very little to do most days in Gensokyo as the Vampire’s gatekeeper. Few ever dared even near the mansion, and trespass? They only ever had one who tried to do that—and it was very rare that she ever tried going through the front. If she ever did, it meant the guard was sleeping on the job, and that really did not happen. Often.

Evening was soon. Ahead, Misty Look tended to not look particularly nice in twilight, she thought. Perhaps she had just already become accustomed to this sight in the time since they’d moved to the land of fantasy. It changed little—looked best in the winter, never pleasant at noon. And while youkai and humans frequented the lake every day, that the fear of the Devil kept so many away meant that watching people fish, frolic, and whatnot was always very distant. She needed manga. She needed something to distract from the drudgery.

She was glad she was also a gardener.

“Don’t nap,” said a male voice. Meiling looked up at the source. He didn’t always sit up there... In fact he’d only done so once before: when they’d first properly met. She stopped looking at the Mansion’s second human, and kept watch ahead instead.

“I won’t nap,” she answered tersely.

“Master Patchouli keeps saying you do. Often,” he countered lightly. Out her periphery, she saw him casually swinging his feet.

“I don’t!” she snapped in return, shutting her eyes with annoyance.

“Well, assuming you do,” he ignored her, “I couldn’t blame you. How often does anyone even come to the gate, Miss Meiling?”

She partly glanced his way and explained, “Not very. We’re almost a hermit estate, like this.”

“So you’re a guard for show? Like the fairy maids are just here to staff the halls?” asked the boy. Meiling flinched.

“Sir Gen!” she addressed him in something akin to a hiss. “You’re not supposed to say that!”

“Ahh... sorry,” Gen apologized honestly. His Mistress Remilia’s love of “veneer” was a mansion open secret—acknowledged, known, but never, ever bluntly addressed: especially outside its gates. This unspoken rule was one he’d gathered early, in fact...

With rosy cheeks the guard also added, “And I’m not for show...! Gensokyo is just peaceful! ... And I’ve had to guard the gate before, you know!”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

“Sometimes I stop Miss Marisa...!” Meiling went on. “And there are youkai and fairies on occasion, thinking they can get past me!”

And the apprentice replied, “Didn’t you let a lot of people through during the last week? When the Incident was happening... Master said the gate had become a revolving door.”

“I-It wasn’t that many!” insisted the guard, now looking at him completely. Gen was slouching and had his hands locked together in front of his knees. Meiling thus told him: “Sit up straight!”

“Right.” He did, separating his hands and putting them on his knees instead.

“So did you only come here to bother me, Sir Gen?” asked the guard, returning to her watch once again.

“‘Bother’...” the young man repeated. “At the least, I wanted to chat with you.”

“I see... Well, I appreciate that,” she told him honestly.

“I was thinking of maybe getting you something to make guarding less dull, but... you have to give your complete attention for as long as you can, right?”

She nodded.

“Who guards when you go to sleep?” asked Gen.

“The fairies that I’m in charge of,” answered Meiling, turning her chin a bit as she gave him attention, “the night guard: fairies of the moon, the stars, shadow. You haven’t seen them since you always go to bed long before I do, Sir Gen. Mistress Remilia thinks it’s fine to have them keep watch while she is awake and at her best.”

“She’s only sometimes awake at night, though,” said Gen. Meiling smiled with apology and amusement.

“That’s on our Mistress,” she said. “Things have gotten very strange since we arrived in Gensokyo...”

“Right, the Mansion was moved here. Were things different where you were before?”

“Of course,” answered Meiling with a decisive nod. Memories of the night—of hunters and holy men at the walls—flashed through her mind. “I actually had real work to do,” she said.

The flash showed in her eyes, which had faded a second. The nearby human saw this, and considered it.

“Mistress Remilia... is over five hundred years old?” asked Gen, adding “Mistress Flandre has said she’s a bit younger than her, and Mistress Flandre has been alive for over five centuries.”

“That’s right,” the gatekeeper confirmed with a lighter nod than before.

“Did you all live in the same place for five hundred years?”

Wearing an apologetic smile again, Meiling said, “You’ll have to ask Mistress Remilia about that, and I’m not sure that she’ll answer.”

Gen thought, Because the past is behind, I suppose... She doesn’t bring up anything of her old exploits or life. Maybe I shouldn’t ask.

Not her, that is.

His Master would most definitely be more willing to talk, not that she had been alive anywhere near as long as his Mistress. She’d studied in her library for the last hundred years, and he was sure she was older than just one century... Almost two, he thought. But five? That was certainly not it.

“Anyway, Sir Gen: I haven’t gotten to ask—” Meiling began to pose a question, and the boy perked up, “—What were you hiding in your clothes last night? It was something alive, right!?”

He flinched, went pale, and began to sweat. Bringing his hands together once more, Gen’s thumbs did fretting combat as he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard the question.

“Come oooon... Tell me, Sir Gen!” Meiling whined.

“U-huh...” he stammered awkwardly, and Meiling started to slyly grin. She’d realized something.

“Wait... you like little girls so... were you smuggling one—!? Aha! Ahaha! No way, right!” Meiling laughed.

Gen was not laughing.

While the worry over his being a lolicon was sincerely unwarranted in Gensokyo, where so many could not have their ages accurately determined by appearance, the fact was still the fact:

He’d denied it once, but he really did like little girls. In fact, he had discovered very recently that he liked them quite a bit.

He had to answer; Meiling would stop tittering soon and construe his silence badly. He thought, should he tell the truth? Lie? He felt he could trust Sakuya but Meiling was a bit... sloppy.

He felt like she and he were siblings, all told, but sisters and brothers let secrets slip all the time... or so he’d gathered. He was still an only child.

He wanted to trust Meiling, but he was not certain that he should. She would mock the truth, most definitely... He ran through many scenarios in his head: quickly, worriedly.

And he decided—

[] He would wholeheartedly tell her the truth.

[] He would sincerely request that she not spread the truth, and then sincerely tell it.

[] He most definitely wouldn’t tell her the truth, not now.
[x] He most definitely wouldn’t tell her the truth, not now.
[x] He would wholeheartedly tell her the truth.
[x] He would wholeheartedly tell her the truth.

Even Sakuya is cool with oni

Probably the worst scenario out of this is just more teasing/mockery so...
[x] He would wholeheartedly tell her the truth.
File 158134911525.gif - (3.50MB, 947x1080, Kya! Kya!.gif) [iqdb]

Choice comes up before the end of the update. Also, it will be open during the NEXT update, as I'll get to that ideally tomorrow (today).


[X] He would wholeheartedly tell her the truth.

[♫: http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=8FJTKM772g4 ]
[Key-word - TOHO JAZZY VOCAL I (Swing Of The Dead)]

“Your wording is a bit wrong, but...” started Gen, nervously, and Meiling’s laughter began to halt. She looked at him with one eye closed while clutching her stomach. He continued, saying, “I didn’t want Master Patchouli to know about it, so I was being secretive.”

“Eh... Eh? You didn’t want her to know? So it’s not like last time when you were hiding something from everyone in the mansion?” asked Meiling. He nodded.

“I’ve already told Sakuya,” he admitted. “I’ll tell you too, Miss Meiling.”

“Oh!? You will!?” After she said this, Gen winced. It almost seemed like the youkai was glowing: her eyes had widened in surprise and an anticipating smile was opened on her face. He swallowed, and finally admitted:

“I was hiding an oni in my clothes last night,” he said, solemn and red-faced. “Ibuki Suika. I’ve entered courtship with the oni who showed herself a few days ago.”

Meiling took a moment to process this.

After this moment, her brow entirely distorted, and she shouted, “You WHAT!?”

“Ibuki Suika,” he repeated. “I’ve started dating her.”

“The—! Ah! The oni who escaped the mansion that day after the last gathering!? Seriously!?” cried the guard.

Gen nodded, saying, “Yeah.”

“Dating, then—” Meiling stopped herself to recall what she’d seen the previous night. In a few seconds the recollection was accessed and closely examined, and the sitting apprentice watched as his youkai friend’s creeping realization showed in her eyes. Soon enough, she determined: “Then it was perverted!”

“‘Per—’!? You mean when she—?” Gen sputtered with surprised, and thought of how the oni had begun caressing his back while clinging to him. “I... I’d prefer to think of that as affection,” he firmly insisted.

“Really...? It just seemed... lewd,” asserted the guard. At the last word, Gen shivered. “And, you showed up in the dark hours of the morning...” Meiling went on. “You didn’t sleep with her?” she asked.

“Well, I... I did, but...” Gen stammered, and Meiling was left in awe. “At the time, I wasn’t... there weren’t any... plans like that. When she rubbed my back it was because... she... needed to...”

He was slouching, and deeply embarrassed.

“Don’t make me talk about this!” he snapped, looking to Meiling with an expression of blended enmity and pleading.

“I haven’t made you say anything, Sir Gen!” she countered. She stood straight after having twisted and turned to shoot looks his way and, while still looking at him, told him succinctly: “Well, I’ll keep what you’ve told me a secret, though. I think you’re right: Lady Patchouli wouldn’t approve of your relationship.”

“Miss Meiling...” said Gen in quiet surprise. His bitter visage was wiped away at once and replaced with burgeoning warmth.

“Moreover,” continued Meiling, but before she said more a catlike smirk crept onto her lips. For a moment, worry washed over him again. The guard shut her eyes, grinned with glee, and declared, “I very much do approve! Oh wow, Gen! You fell in love!”

“Uh,” uttered Gen. And again, “Uh.”

“It has to be real if you fell for each other so fast!” jabbered his friend. “You’ve met so many people since you arrived, and you’re quite outgoing, so I figured you’d have met a girl you fancied much sooner than that!”

I... did, actually, thought Gen as he stared, unflinching and with furrowed brow, at Meiling. Though I never tried nor wished to try pursuing it before, suppose...

A thought occurred to him. He asked, “Hey, Meiling... didn’t you call me out for liking little girls when we first met? And just a few minutes ago... You know Ibuki Suika looks like a child, right?”

“Yeah,” said Meiling with a nod, “and?” she asked.

“... It doesn’t... bother you, or...?” he ventured while leaning forward, confused.

“Ehh? Why would it? I don’t understand.” Was Meiling’s response.

“... Then why’d you say that!? Why’d you laugh!?” he demanded to know.

“‘Why’...?” Meiling repeated, tilting her head. “I thought it would be interesting if we’d picked up a lolicon, so I asked if you were one. Because most of the members of our house are little girls, that would’ve been quite something. Are you attracted to the fairy maids, by the way?”

No...” he answered with disgust. The fairies were just children. Perhaps he’d sing a different tune seeing them in the baths, but living with fae made them thoroughly undesirable. Like being attracted to your family of a hundred younger sisters.

“Well, I also laughed because it was funny to think you’d be smuggling a little girl. There are so many to choose from in the Mansion, after all!” followed Meiling, smiling brightly. He looked at her with an expression of somewhat deep concern.

It really was easy to forget that Hong Meiling had rather warped morals.

“Well like I said I wasn’t smuggling her, either... I was... I was just making her feel better,” he explained, sitting up straight and frowning.

“If you want, I can let you two use my bedroom and you can sleep together all you like! It’s a great place since it’s not connected to the main building!” She gave him a thumbs up, he sputtered with surprise again. “I know it’s gotta be hard finding places for you two to have sex,” she went on unabated, even as Gen began coughing, “but I don’t mind helping you out! We’re friends and colleagues, after all!”

“Th-Thanks...” he answered, shaking now. Uh...

[] I think I’ll take her up on that offer.

[] ... That would be a really, really bad idea, wouldn’t it? Forget it.

“So, are you attracted to the Mistresses, Sir Gen?” Meiling queried, cocking her head again. His shoulders sank.

“Of course,” said the boy in a tired voice. “Anyone would be. The Mistresses are gorgeous.”

“Ahh, but you like Miss Flandre more right?” Meiling teased, pointing at him.

“I love Mistress Remilia and Mistress Flandre,” he answered flatly. He knew better than to ever suggest he liked one Scarlet sister over the other, at least not ever aloud. Either one of them could kill him over such a thing, and more importantly their feelings would be hurt.

“Oh, did you give Mistress Flandre that gift you said you’d hand her personally?”

“Not yet...”

“I hope that she likes it!”

“Me too.”

“What about that request Lady Patchouli made of you? How is that progressing?”

“Hm. About that...”

Dinnertime wasn’t long off...

As Gen explained his idea to Meiling, he kept that in mind. It wasn’t often that everyone ate together. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—all meals happened wherever you were; Sakuya would find you, and present you with a tray.

He was very much looking forward to it, and especially: he was looking forward to keeping this talk up with Meiling in the dining room especially. Even rarer was the day they broke bread together...

And he’d realized, he had a peculiar and particular, precious bond with the guard of Scarlet Devil Mansion. It was the sort of nonsense, absurd thing that could only function in a world very lacking in common sense. In fact, that was what kept the two worlds truly separate: a border of common sense.

How ridiculous, he thought, and he smiled. I think that last year, had I seen this scene in a vision I’d have called it a pure illusion.

I suppose that’s fine.

I think I prefer lacking common sense.


image sources:
[X] I think I’ll take her up on that offer.

I like wingman Meiling.
File 158135677272.jpg - (287.33KB, 850x768, sanaefastballspecial.jpg) [iqdb]
Gen, you can't let yourself be held back by common sense in Gensokyo!

>Either one of them could kill him over such a thing, and more importantly their feelings would be hurt.

Keeping your priorities straight I see.

[x] Take her up on her offer.

Gen is a teenanger on her first relationship and Suika hasn't been in one for centuries it seems. We should consider ourselves lucky that he still bothers to use underwear.
[x] I think I’ll take her up on that offer.
[x] I think I’ll take her up on that offer.

Gen is too pure for Meiling
Hope I can write something when I get back home several hours from now. Had unexpectedly little time to write today. Real annoying
File 158142681293.jpg - (410.89KB, 1890x999, there's blood in there.jpg) [iqdb]

[ ♫: https://mega.nz/#!AYUmCQzT!4tbRK1M5_Nq4etB3hKlBHqUSyihyknWzs3e8zm7DXzo ]
[紅魔館 - 幻奏演舞 幻想人形演舞MusicCollection (FocasLens)]

“But, honestly—! Only five tracks? Why, I was certain CDs held more than double that, yet this—!”

“CDs use uncompressed audio, but with the rise of the mp3 format and thus better compression, the file size is smaller.”


“Songs tend to be up to five megabytes in size, and the iPod we have is forty gigabytes. There are one thousand per gigabyte and—”

“Hey, wait, stop stop—”

“—that means that for every gigabyte you can hold about... two hundred songs? And because there are forty gigabytes on that... hm, eight thousand I think?”


“Ten if you go down to one hundred twenty-eight kbps.”

At the head of the dining room table, Remilia clutched her knife and fork with a look that spoke of blasted revelation.

“THERE ISN’T EVEN THAT MUCH MUSIC IN THE WORLD!!” she cried. Gen, sat beside the gatekeeper a little ways down the table, wondered whether that was or wasn’t true. It probably wasn’t.

“If CDs came with twelve,” chimed in Patchouli Knowledge, seated near and to her friend’s left, “and there were even just twenty artists releasing twelve-track CDs per year, in about forty years ten thousand original pieces would’ve been made. These are using too-generous estimates.”

“I believe electronic music, and recording, have been around since the late nineteenth century, correct?” posited Sakuya, who was seated opposite Patchouli. Remilia glared at her. “Ergo, using too-generous estimates, more than twenty thousand original pieces would have been made, recorded and sold since that time.”

“How mwush mujic dihd recordsh shtore?” asked Meiling through a mouth stuffed with rice.

“A bit over forty minutes,” Gen answered. “Twenty-two, each side.”

His father collected a few vinyls.

The table they were all sitting at was several meters long, and rather wide as well. The fairies were one room over—everyone was half-keeping an eye on them, ready to stop any rabble-rousing. The fairies’ room was very spacious, on the X and Z axes; on the Y axis it came up short. Height was instead given to the main dining area (though it had less horizontal space). In fact, the Mansion’s clock tower blended with this room overhead, and if you were to find some way through the ceiling you would be met with staircases, giant gears, and eventually an enormous glass face. You’d have to fly or climb up quite a ways... The entire room was very ostentatious. A chandelier glowed above: mostly red of course.

“Very foolish, Elder Sister,” remarked the younger sister, who was sitting across from himself and Meiling. She waited for Remilia’s glare to change direction her way before elaborating, meanwhile absently spinning her fork between her fingers so that a cube of meat would rotate atop it slowly. “You don’t know very many songs, then? That’s so uncultured.”

Remilia scowled. “I don’t want to hear that from someone who thinks that a recording which contains twenty seconds of screaming counts as music,” she retorted.

“It’s thirty seconds,” replied Flandre, closing her eyes. “I counted.”

“The song you chose was much better than that, though,” Remilia went on while taking more from her plate. Before putting what was now on her fork into her mouth she shut her eyes and asked, “How can you like both?”

“My tastes are ‘eclectic’,” said her sister, before biting what was atop her fork—bitten, it should be noted, at the same time as her older sibling. The employees at the table looked at one another upon seeing this, and gave a chuckle each.

Gen turned to Meiling then and began asking how she knew of vinyl records. In the meanwhile Remilia and Flandre continued to verbally swipe at one another, and the remaining two took to finishing more of their plates. Before dinner they had all gathered around Remilia while she was presented with and listened to the iPod they had gotten her. Her reaction upon hearing Nightwish’s song had been astounding: the vampire’s eyes had sparkled, and her foot was soon tapping.

She liked all the music but Aphex Twin’s Come To Daddy. Though they had made her save it as the second to last track (leaving another as a palate cleanser), she could never have been made ready for such an unusual sound. Gen thought, she only needed time to truly feel it.

Thanks had gone around, dinner was set, and conversation took place. It was a proper, lively, SDM evening. Such was it pleasant and enjoyable that it was easy – even when he took a break to make headway through his plate – to forget the amount of blood covering and imbuing the Mistresses’ dishes.

As long as I’m not eating it, I’m fine with it, thought Gen.

“What of sealing? That is magic too, no?” He heard Sakuya speaking, and looked up from dinner to pay attention.

“It is and it is not. There are a few methods to seal someone or something,” his Master explained.

“And do any of the magic methods work with gods and such?” Sakuya wondered. His Master nodded.

“Though the arts are unreliable,” she confessed. “Calling gods, too... In most cases you would need a priestess. The foundations of those connections are made through faith, not research and magical power.”

“Hmmm...” Sakuya looked his way.

“Oh? Gen? Were you dabbling in gods?” asked Patchouli tilting her head.

“I—was curious about a god,” he said quickly after fixing his posture.

“Which?” Patchouli asked.


“The god residing on Youkai Mountain?” she asked. “You wanted to do something with her?”

“Uh, no,” he answered. It was the truth, in a fashion.

“Iwanagahime...” repeated Patchouli. She lifted her teacup and leaned back in her seat. “You couldn’t possibly do anything about her. I couldn’t either. Not only is she a god, she’s an old and special one. Special, although I’ve read that she comes across as rather plain.”

“H—Hmmm...?” Gen uttered, trying not to let on that he knew what his Master had read was essentially correct.

“Why were you interested in her?” she asked, her question absolute and direct.

“The smoke on Youkai Mountain... I was wondering how it worked,” he told her.

“It’s that goddess’s doing, so if that was your theory you’re quite correct.”

“Why does she make smoke rise...? The volcano isn’t active, right?”

His Master smirked. “Maybe,” she said.

Worrying, he thought, and his concern showed on his face.

“It isn’t the kappas’ factories?” Meiling asked.

“Kappa...” muttered Gen, “Marisa mentioned them before. Was there a belief that the kappa were responsible for the smoke?”

Meiling nodded.

His Master answered the guard’s question, saying, “No. Rumors aren’t facts. I seriously wonder how you go through life being so superstitious.”

And Meiling was taken aback. “Wha—! It’s a popular rumor in the village!”

“Tell me when rumors begin becoming realities. Until then, I don’t want to hear about guesses,” said Patchouli, words cold enough to make the other youkai shiver. Next to her, Remilia smirked, pointed, and said:

“Rumors are where theories rise from, and the fruit of a successful theory is ‘fact’.”

“Wasn’t it my job to learn things? What do you know about theories and research, Remi?”

“I know quite a lot,” said the vampire, sitting back and opening her hand as she turned it over. Patchouli sighed and drank more of her tea as Remilia Scarlet continued on. “It is the duty of the nobility to be aware. In some regards, I know even more than you, Patche.”

“You didn’t even know how much music might exist in the world... and music isn’t even close to my specialty,” answered Patchouli, looking somewhat miserably at her friend as she took her teacup from her lips.

Remilia pointed again. “Then, shall we have a knowledge-off? I’ll show you that your given name is only that! Surely I can best you...” she trailed off, and loudly declared, “... at TRIVIA!

“Very well,” Patchouli replied. “I will trounce you, and as a reward I’ll have you assist me in research for a week.”

Upon hearing this condition, Remilia’s charismatic mask broke—though for only a second. “H-Hmm! Yes! That’s fine! And when I win, I’ll have you... read to me! At night!”

Ah damn, I want to play and lose, Gen thought, frowning sadly.

Patchouli, on the other hand, smiled. “We’ll have Sakuya moderate,” she said, roping in his colleague without her consent. Sakuya did not mind. She looked serene and pleasant, rather. “I’ll enjoy you regretting this,” the magician declared in all confidence. Remilia scowled.

“You’re so cocky! Hmph!” was what she had to say. Nobody commented on the hypocrisy, though Flandre did roll her eyes. The Mistress sat up from her seat, planting her hands on the table. “Nobody else intrude!” she ordered. “Especially not you, Gen!” Gen pointed at himself and raised one of his bushy brows. “Yes, you! I don’t need you assisting her in secret!”

“What about openly?” he asked.

“Quiet!” she answered.

“Alright, Mistress,” he replied, bowing his head. He was most sore that he had to accept this, though. So, so very sore.

And so, all the ruckus to die down. The two old friends and the head maid would be holding their contest in another room. Everyone else was to go elsewhere—not necessarily to perform any duties, however. The Mistress cared to do this at regular intervals: giving everyone within the mansion an evening of no serious responsibilities, and perhaps even a little Mansion-centered party. It helped mental health, was the reason she’d given him when he asked. His Mistress truly was a noble heart.

As he and Meiling cleared the tables in the main and side dining room (the fairies hated such work), he wondered how he’d spend his night. Hanging out with Meiling was tempting... Finding Flandre was very tempting. He also thought about heading to the Mansion’s roof, where he was quite sure Onozuka Komachi would notice him waiting.

Regardless of what he decided, he was sure tonight would continue to be grand and lovely, and that was especially something he needed after the failures of today.

[] Hang with Meiling for the night.

[] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.

[] Head to the rooftop.

This choice is still open

Meiling has offered her bedroom to Gen for his use with Ibuki Suika, whenever they wish to be intimate.

[4] I think I’ll take her up on that offer.

[0] ... That would be a really, really bad idea, wouldn’t it? Forget it.

forgot to mention, for those who indulge
the linked music here uses a lower compression version of the song. Better compression in the big megalink (THREAD 7 folder, of course)
> “What about openly?” [Gen] asked.
I can only imagine him wearing this absurdly smug-ass shit-eating grin when saying that line.

[x] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.
[x] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.

ywn slowly drift off to sleep as Patchouli reads you a bedtime story
[x] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.

We haven’t given our gift yet have we? We should get on that!
Best prize.

[x] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.
[x] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.
[x] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.
File 158263563151.jpg - (1.59MB, 2800x2800, very silly.jpg) [iqdb]
[X] Find and talk with Mistress Flandre.


[♫: http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=O5x77dSPYnA ]
[Secret Library Daguerreo - Final Fantasy IX Piano Collection (Uematsu Nobuo)]

In the kitchen, after he and Meiling had cleaned everything and set it to dry, Gen fished the water toy he had bought out from his pockets to bring it to a sink. He’d drained it after purchasing it from Kourindou (of course) and decided to refill it. He was going to see his younger Mistress.

Finding her was as “simple” as it could be. The mansion was very lively now that night had very much fallen. The hallways felt brighter than during the day, in fact. To find Flandre, he simply had to find where liveliness and light died—putting it in an uncomplimentary-sounding way. Or, not: Flandre Scarlet was a youkai, and a youkai particularly tied to the night, at that. It was also just a fact: most of the Mansion’s residents were quite afraid of her...

Within a hallway with half its lights taken out, and those remaining had been dimmed, Gen spotted through the darkness the lit lower edge of a random doorway. He knocked on the door, knowing the room’s occupant could only be his Lady Flandre or some strikingly bold invader.

“Mistress Flandre?” he asked at the door.

And a reply came at once. “Gen? What do you want? Come in. I don’t like talking to people through doors.”

He turned the doorknob and entered.

The younger vampire of the household was sitting on the carpet, leaning against an armchair, stuffed animal in hands as she stared absently at a cabinet on the wall to her left (and his right). He looked into the cabinet as well, seeing that it was full of board games from the outside world (and at least one box for shogi, which could be from either realm). Looking at it, a question arose in his head—but not one that he would ask or dwell on. Mistress Flandre was sensitive (or, more accurately, “volatile”).

“Evening, Mistress. Alone again?” he asked.

“What’s that behind your back?” she asked immediately, ignoring his question and turning her eyes on him without turning her head. When she did turn her head, a smile began to part her lips—one that said she’d caught him in “the act”—though there wasn’t really any “act” at play here. “I see...” she spoke smoothly, her right fang glinting in lamplight. “You’ve finally come to me with a wooden stake, huh? I see, I see.”

Flandre spread her arms, letting go of her toy bear and allowing it to roll onto the floor. She put her head on the seat of the chair behind her, exposing her neck in time with a pushing out of her chest.

“Be gentle, though,” she said. “And, if you’ll let me make a second request: please spare this child.”

Her right hand lazily indicated that she meant the stuffed bear.

“Mistress,” Gen began, sourly, “cut that out.” This joke was in very poor taste.

“Ehhh? You aren’t here to kill me?” Flandre asked, lifting her head. “Is that alright? The child is innocent, but I’m such a terrible, terrible, malevolent being.”

“Which would you like to hear: my saying that you aren’t, or that you most certainly are?” Gen asked.

“I’m not my elder sister,” Flandre replied, and she let her head rest again.

“... You aren’t those things, Mistress Flandre,” he said, and to that Flandre said nothing. “May I offer a gift to the innocent younger sister of Scarlet Devil Mansion?” he went on, leaning very slightly forward.

“A stake...!” gasped Flandre, lifting her hands and spreading her fingers into exaggerated, clawed postures. “Through my heart...!” she howled dramatically, and she threw her hands over the source of her precious little lifeblood.

“Can’t you stop!? That’s horrible!” the apprentice snapped.

“Right...” Flandre sat up as she whispered this, giggling after in—what else but a devilish way. The vampire girl looked at him. “You wouldn’t let me puncture you, so I can’t let you puncture me can I?”

Gen was not an oblivious boy. He frowned a disapproving frown at his younger mistress.

“What do you stand to gain from putting it that way?” he asked, embarrassed enough that his words were delivered almost in a grown.

“What way?” asked Flandre, with waving at him a mock gesture of befuddlement with her right hand. “In Japanese?”

“... No—”

“English WOULD be better!” she said loudly, closing her eyes and raising both hands now and shrugging and grinning openly. “It’s a much better language than the Japanese I have to speak in this silly land!”

“You sound like Lady Remilia now—”

“Oh, Gen. Was it the innuendo?” the girl asked, as if she had only just realized. The look in her now-open eyes said she definitely had not.

“You’d ordinarily say ‘bite’, wouldn’t you?” he answered, sighing.

“You wouldn’t let me bite you... I certainly won’t let you bite me,” Flandre replied, laughing again, The boy could tell: he was now blushing a little.

She’s talking nonsense again... he thought miserably, his shoulders slumping. Better to cut to the chase.

“I brought you something far less-compelling than what we got for Mistress Remilia, but I thought you might enjoy trying to master it, Mistress Flandre!” He forced the conversation ahead.

“What an exciting way to say you picked up a lazy souvenir for me! Thanks!” said Flandre happily. She was not being sarcastic.

“It wasn’t lazy... I thought this was a decent idea,” he spoke honestly, and a bit hurt, as he revealed the toy he’d purchased.

“What the heck is that? Are those rings? Are they candy? Is that food?” A slew of questions came at once, all as honest as could be.

“It’s not food,” Gen answered one of them, and then pressed one of the game’s yellow buttons. Water rushed up and swirled some of the rings in the tank. None landed on any of the pegs within.

“It’s a snow globe that’s box-shaped? It’s a box globe?” Flandre had stood up and was now walking toward him, her eyes focused on the little plastic toy. The smile on her face was now one of interest and amusement.

“Wouldn’t that naming schema lead to ‘snow box’? And it’s not that anyway. This is a game,” he replied, taking his other hand to it and trying to play the little thing properly. It really was more of a storm simulator, if he was to explain it more honestly. The little rings danced one intense and wild dance, being buffeted by rapid and interchanging water jets, but a wild dance wasn’t something controllable. After a minute of attempting success, a yellow ring settled over one of the pegs (all of which were mauve in color ), and he breathed out.

“One of them landed around that thing there!” said Flan in surprise. Perhaps she was convinced about her snow box theory, and thus genuinely had not expected some sort of game to manifest within it or show itself to be the (hidden(?)) main purpose. He could see her face through the water tank, and realized he didn’t usually stand before either of the Scarlets. They were both extremely tiny, and seeing the discrepancy between his height and theirs proved a bit of trip. The two were always so imposing, after all; their stature and charming fashion undercut that aura of intimidation.

He got the urge to pick up the Scarlet standing in front of him, but he also – firmly – had no death wish.

He needed to sit down or change where he was standing...

Gen walked over to the wall beside the cabinet, leaning against it once he reached there and playing with the water ring toss all the while, pretending that his Mistress’s cuteness was not disarming him. Flandre followed, eyes still transfixed.

“... Ohh,” she eventually breathed. “‘Ring toss’, right!? I’m pretty sure that’s the name!”

“Have you not played ring toss before, Mistress Flandre?” asked Gen, looking at her face now not through the tank, but directly.

“Festivals have too many people, and fairs show up more often in the day,” she explained.

He gave her the device.

“This is an honestly cheap imitation, using more randomness than actual control or skill to win. I’ve never won at it. I’m not sure anyone really has,” he said. “Kids usually play this on long car trips. It’s just something to waste time.”

“You can use different levels of pressure, huh...” his Mistress muttered as she fiddled with the game, testing its limitations. “Car trips... A rocking and bouncing car would totally mess up the balance.”

“I don’t think it’s balanced in the first place,” he retorted. Flandre, extremely focused on her new task, pressed at the two buttons and, in a few seconds, landed five of the rings onto the highest of the three pegs within. “... Hmm??” Gen made a sound of confusion.

“I’m not really sure I get it yet,” said Flan, almost to herself, “but I think I can figure this little thing out! ... Oh yeah, you said ‘master’—you think I can master this?” She met his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure you can eventually master anything, Lady Flandre,” said Gen, not even trying to sound complimentary—his voice and tone told that he was merely stating the truth. He crossed his arms, shifting his against-the-wall posture, and he admitted, “But, I was actually a lot more certain you’d never figure it out, because I was almost one-hundred-percent positive that these toys were unbeatable scams.”

Flandre huffed a breath from her nose and looked up at the human pitifully. “You bought me a scam toy,” she said, bluntly.

“I was interested in see your frustrated face...” he said, frowning with disappointment.

“Why did Elder Sister hire weirdo humans to take care of us...?” Flandre muttered, her wings slumping in a tired fashion.

“I’m technically not hired, I’m the live-in apprentice of Lady Patchouli,” he clarified.

“I’ll complete this game like it’s nothing,” Flandre went on, pushing at its buttons a few more times. “But it’s cheap, right? What will you give me if I beat it quickly?”

“What will I give you?” he repeated.

“Yeah, what will you give me?”

He thought about it.

Can’t give you my hand in marriage, anymore... “I would love to give you another gift,” he said, eyes closed in thought. He looked very pleased with himself.

“Yeah, okay, so what will the gift be?” Flan ignored his silliness.

[] “A kiss.” (on the cheek)

[] “I’ll play with you for an entire day.”

[] “Shall I serve you for an entire day?”

[] “What do you want, Mistress Flandre?”
File 158263581782.png - (1.20MB, 1109x1158, bored.png) [iqdb]
image source: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/78906475

also this is an alternative I was thinking of using, but I liked the other picture more (source: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/3520256 )
And the hand actually has a source image itself: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/2329230
[x] “I’ll play with you for an entire day.”
[X] “What do you want, Mistress Flandre?”
[X] “A kiss.” (on the cheek)

Lets see what happens
[X] “A kiss.” (on the cheek)
It's time to derail this story quite horribly.
[x] “I’ll play with you for an entire day.”
cute flan is cute
[X] “A kiss.” (on the cheek)

very cute
[x] “Shall I serve you for an entire day?”

Damn, all options are great! But this is the win/win choice.
[x] “Shall I serve you for an entire day?”
[X] “What do you want, Mistress Flandre?”

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