I actually thought the previous thread would be the last one. Guess not.

Thread 1: >>/sdm/54956
Thread 2: >>/sdm/55386
Thread 3: >>/sdm/55803
Thread 4: >>/sdm/56153
Thread 5: >>/sdm/56497
Thread 6: >>/sdm/56844
Thread 7: >>/sdm/57149
Thread 8: >>/sdm/57460
Thread 9: >>/sdm/57814

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For a long moment I stare at the two women, smiling happily, letting myself seem the very image of good cheer. After a minute, I let the smile slide off my face. "Anyway, that's enough playing around, don't you think? Let's get to business."

You are Patchouli Knowledge, a physically frail and sickly magician of profound aptitude and power. You live in the Voile Archives of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, though you have constructed an attached tower elsewhere, without internal fixtures as yet, which you may or may not inhabit much. You are Friends with Remilia, the vampire who owns the mansion, who considers it entirely too much effort to try to feed off you. Your Magical Potency varies somewhat from day to day, depending on how long of an incantation you can manage before breaking off into a fit of coughs, and how much strain your body can handle in addition to the rigors of illness. You currently have a box of ninety three vials of Medication stored in the library to offset the worst of the days, however, though it will later exact a toll, and your new Magical Focus eases use of magic to a significant degree. It seems that Luck can play a reasonable part in keeping yourself healthy, though effects may vary, as can the Hakurei Hot Spring.

Your magic is based on Elementalism primarily, though you are also skilled in Diabolism and Other Summonings, which can be surprisingly versatile, particularly in combination with Golems. You can also create Homunculi, if you have the materials to hand. You do not have any suitable samples of the key ingredient, however.

The date is Aug. 31. It is Wednesday, day of Mercury, of Messages and Water and Versatility. Through din

[ ] To Play with Human Shapes

BGM:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgzLwxuX154

Might as well start with the first one to catch you eye. You pick up the book with the title To Play with Human Shapes, and begin reading.

To play with dolls in human shapes is the closest I've ever come to others. There were, of course, my mother and the people who served her, those are people who are dear to me, but there was no one I could call a friend. Now, what I search for most is a person with who I can have the kind of closeness that I have thus far only read about.

You certainly hope that there is more to the story than this, as you have no interest in reading about someone complaining. However, as you continue, another set of text appears between the lines that you have already read.

To read stories is the closest I've come to living among others. There are, of course, those who live around me, but there is a gap between us that I long ago gave up trying to cross. Now, what I search for most is a satisfying life alone.

“And? Are you satisfied?”

You whirl around. It was the Yama who spoke to you.

It has now been almost a year since I've been able to write anything. Flea, shorts, SotUY again, or my own projects; I've not been able to write more than a few words of any of them.
At least once a week since my last update, I've sat down and opened Word and tried to continue the story. I'd then spend half an hour glancing at the page, writing a few words, then deleting them, and closing Word out of frustration. I've rewritten the current update dozens of times by now, but I still can't even get any more than halfway through it.

That brings me here. There's enough stories that haven't finished, and left people wondering what the author's plans were, and where the story was going. I don't want people to never know that about Flea.

So, now I'm asking you to vote once again, my patient readers. The one thing I can still do for you is to give you a rundown of the rest of the plot, the backstories and motivations of the characters, the endings, and answer whatever other questions are left.

Do you want it?

[ ] Yes
[ ] No

Life on the road is harsh. I’m good at a number of things, sure, but improving my stamina was never a real priority, so I tire easily. The fights I’ve been in never lasted long enough to need it. Cooking and finding shelter were never things I even had the chance to learn. Hunting is yet another thing I neglected to take up.

To be honest, being bad at things reminds me of… never mind. I was miserable then, too.

I’ve been travelling for three weeks, now. Beyond the fact that I’ve been headed east, I don’t even know what kingdom I’m in at this point. I hope father is taking my disappearance alright. When I left, things were… complicated.

A sudden downpour of rain interrupts my thoughts. The weather has been like this for a few days, all hot and humid and rainy. I can’t help but shiver as the rain soaks into my clothes. Temperatures stopped bothering me a while ago, but I can still catch something from staying drenched for a while. I need to find some shelter very soon.

Seeing as I’m already pretty far from civilization, heading deeper into the forest couldn’t hurt. The shade of the leafy canopy helps a little, but it isn’t going to keep me anywhere near dry. The forest is quiet as I trudge onward.

A ways off the beaten path, I find an old building of cracked stone, overgrown with vines and trees. I’d guess it’s a shrine of some sort. I have no idea to who or what, but it’s a shelter, at least.

The inside is dark, but I can see clear as daylight. There are traces of magic here, the cracked and broken wards having long ago run out of power. After making sure they aren’t dangerous to me, I renew them with a bit of my own inner light. This way, I don’t have to worry about wolves or anything happening upon me.

The rain continues uninterrupted for a few hours. I remember how, when I was very young, I was afraid of thunder. Mother would hold me and tell me that everything would be fine. Things were simpler back then. I’m sorry, mother. I must be such a disappointment to you.

I am Ryuga, a member of a small tribe of bat youkai. I’m about five hundred years old, give or take a decade. My home was in a cave hidden in a forest near a human settlement. We had an agreement with them, we don’t eat them and they don’t kill us on sight. Not the best agreement but it worked, for a while.

At this point Gensokyo had achieved a peace that had lasted for almost twenty years. Human and youkai alike were living in towns together, and even the oni were coming back to the surface. The peace lulled us into a false sense of safety from the humans. Perhaps if we had kept our guard up, I wouldn’t be the only one of my tribe left.

It started about a year ago, with humans being found in the forest drained of blood, and their limbs ripped off. The humans blamed us, claiming we broke the treaty and that we were really a vampire enclave. Naturally we denied the accusations and tried to ignore them. Sadly we weren’t prepared or even expecting what happened next. The humans stormed our cave, killing everyone of my kind. Fearing for my life, I tried to flee, but alas I was not quick enough. One of the humans cut my left wing off with an axe. What happened next is all a blur to me, I can recall killing the human with his own axe and a few others with my bare hands, though at some point I must have collapsed and been mistaken for dead.

When I came to there was none of my kind left, the bodies of the dead burned and mutilated, I was lucky I was buried under a pile of humans that were most likely going to be retrieved later. If there were any other survivors they were long gone. I wanted revenge on the humans but another matter was on my mind, they had called us vampires. To my knowledge there were only two vampires in Gensokyo, surely they would know about these attacks, and perhaps they were behind it themselves.

My course was clear, I was to head to the Scarlet Devil Mansion and confront the vampire Remilia. If she was in fact behind the attacks on the humans that slaughtered my people she would die, if she was not then she must be warned in case the humans were to go after her and her sister. So I ran as fast as I could. It was impo

Barring intense writer's block, updates should be frequent. Picture is related, but only by a vague tangent. Enjoy!
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Every once in a while, you'd hear stories, about other demons who got summoned to some mortal realm, and having their domains taken out from under them the moment such a thing happened, but never in a hundred years did you imagine that such a thing would happen to you. After a disorienting flash of light, you'd found yourself facing a violet-haired woman and numerous rows of massive bookshelves, far as the eye could see. On the floor, surrounding you, is a summoning circle. You recognize it from the stories you've heard. This one seems different, though, but you don't have a chance to try and examine anything closely before the woman speaks.

“Koakuma, can you identify her?”

“I can't name her, if that's what you're after,” says another voice, just before the voice's owner drops down in front of you with a mischievous grin on her face. You can tell that she's a demoness, like yourself, because of the ample chest, the long red hair and bat wings on her back and head, but that's where the identification stops. The specific kind of demon this “Koakuma” happens to be is lost to you. “I can tell you about her, though. Will that do, Lady Patch?”

“Lady Patch” responds with a curt nod, and Koakuma thrusts her face almost against your own, not quite breaking the summoning circle. “Lessee, here,” the demon begins. “Blue eyes and hair, very sharp features, plus the freckles. Give her some ice wings, and she could maybe pass as Cirno.” Koakuma's once-thoughtful look turns into a smirk. “You summoned yourself an Ice demoness, Lady Patch. Not one of the bigwigs, though, I can tell you that. Definitely a Lesser.” You bristle softly at being called out as a “Lesser”, but remain seated. You're not sure if you're able to break the circle with your power, and you don't want to risk hurting yourself just because of curiosity.

“How many Lesser Demons can sa

Here's where you'll find the random SDM-related shorts I decide to write in my spare time when I'm procrastinating on an actual update feeling particularly inspired.

Note these shorts could be anywhere from silly little AFT side-stories you don't see in the main story itself, to strange "what if" scenarios using AFT characters but having nothing to do with the story, or they could just be altogether random stuff. If a particular short is "AFT canon" with regards to the vague plot, I'll let you know.


Happy reading~!

Thread One: >>54922
Thread Two: >>58538
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"Oh, for fuck's sake," you snap, your frayed temper breaking in twain.

Remilia doesn't falter so much as tilt her head a fraction of an inch. "I beg your pardon?"

"You want the truth? You want all of it? All right, fine, I'll tell you why I'm here." Your hand clamps around the spear's shaft in one blindingly fast motion, and Remilia nearly flinches. "But I've had my fill of people trying to kill me today, so get your goddamn spear away from my throat before I shove it down yours."

Remilia stares at you, just stares, for ten straight seconds before the tiniest of smiles crosses her face, and the spear disappears as fast as she had summoned it. "So you really are capable of getting angry."

You scowl deeply, which only seems to amuse her more. "Are you schizophrenic? Because you sure as hell act like it."

Remilia plunks herself down on the nearest free piece of rubble. "Oh, get on with it before I change my mind."

Patchouli Knowledge, the Unmoving Great Library, the sorceress of arcana complexus, the master of natural elements, was working on a particularly vexing incantation. Combining multiple elements with less-than agreeable compatibility, the mage took it upon herself to enchant the arte of fire, wood, and moon as an experiment. One which required all her concentration.

“Miss Patchouli! Miss Patchouli! An unidentified object is making a beeline towards the library at Mach one!” Koakuma’s frantic yelps ring across the grand library.

Patchouli says nothing. Her robe flutters softly with the stream of magical energy. She shuts her eyes and blinds herself from the physical world to see the current of mana. Within the tome in front of her is a vortex of tri-elemental power. The book waxes and wanes in power, its cryptic words on its pages known only to Patchouli Knowledge. Glistening beads of sweat adorn her forehead as she channels her magical incantations. The next step will require perfect execution and uninterrupted magical prowess.

Perfect execution.

“Yer never gonna catch me, ya gate guard! Wahaha!” A door from the side of the library topples down as a broom and its owner, Marisa Kirisame, enter the fray. She makes haste with her cleaning apparatus, zipping through the complex shelves.

And uninterrupted.

“Hey! Get back here, intruder!” Hong Meiling cries out in half-exasperation, half-determination.

Magical.