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A thread for things.

WARNING: RAMBLING AHEAD! PLEASE IGNORE! (or don't, if you prefer)

Some of these things will be incoherent and useless. Some will be story ideas I'll eventually write. Some will not likely get written, but might be interesting or useful to someone else.

My goal here is to organize my thoughts into something coherent enough to use. By which I mean probably incomprehensible to the sane.

There may be puzzles ahead for those of you who look for puzzles.

Now the part where I post shorts.
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File 139202998491.png - (1.02KB, 640x480, Eyes black as coals.png) [iqdb]
Probably looks good with the Darkish style.

You know what’s great about manhunts?


They. Fucking. Suck.

Unless you’re some uncatchable criminal or the gloryhound after her, you’re in for a bad time.

Say it’s 1920 in Boston and you own a deli or whatever. She comes in, orders a pastrami sandwich, and not ten seconds later, Hell itself plows through the walls of reality right into your shop. Naturally, she animates your entire stock into some sort of meat behemoth, fully capable of laying into a Fifth Circle devil on its own.

Oh, you don’t understand what that means? It’s kind of a stupid system that works differently for heavenly and hellish forces and dammit, quit distracting me! It’s like a five on the Richter Scale as far as geographic impact.

So anyway, Mega Meat has it out with a few weaker devils, the building collapses, and the owner gets steaked through the head. Kind of a shitty way to die, that. So then, his confused, pissed off soul goes to be judged and he gets to go back into the cycle. That’s how it works, right?
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Ran Yakumo prided herself on the ability to remain calm when stressed. Being the shikigami of Yukari Yakumo required that she be able to handle anything. Sometimes that might mean she had to deliver messages to the powers residing in other Border Worlds. Other times, she had to take a trip to an Outside city because her master was having a craving for a particular kind of ice-cream. Such was dealing with Yukari.

Today’s duties were a bit different.

While she was loath to admit it, Ran was on edge. This was not something she had experience dealing with. Her mind, normally a force to be reckoned with, was currently occupied with worsening her already frayed nerves. It had decided to calculate all of the ways things could, would, go catastrophically wrong.

As such, she was throwing open doors with a bit too much force and not bothering to close them as she crossed the Yakumo residence. She had already taken far too long to fly back from her reconnaissance and time was of the essence.

“Good morning, Ran.” Yukari was seated at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee in one hand and the day’s copy of the Bunbunmaru in the other. “It seems to be a rather slow news day.”

“Lady Yukari! There’s an emergency! The Border is-”

Yukari sipped her coffee. “I know.”

Naturally, she would know immediately, Ran thought. That was no doubt why Yukari was awake so early in the day. After all, it would not be inaccurate to say that Yukari Yakumo was the Border.
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Shameimaru, they say. Your wings are beautiful, they say.

Yes, she says. I know, she says.

Aya is tired.

Still, she pays the sycophants no mind, for the fools know nothing of romance but cheap witticisms and many, many colloquial phrases used to seduce female tengu aplenty. Shameimaru, tired as she may be, can only smile wistfully as she must bear with yet another toadie sputtering out verbatim: “your wings are beautiful.”

Aya is tired.

Her only solace is the man, the human, peering into the stuffy room, casting a watchful eye towards her direction. Shameimaru relents, dropping a casual blush-and-smile, coyly lowering her eyes. The rest of the bumbling fools swoon, clamoring for Shameimaru's attention, arguing for whom the smile was for.

It was for mine personage, cries he who had the talent of being less-than-tactful. Shameimaru sighs. She would never offer her blush to he who crowed that her breasts were "admirable assets" for the village.

Nay, for the answer can only be I, exclaimed he who knew the most platitudes. Shameimaru had adopted the policy of nodding her head at specific intervals (when the man ceased to talk, which happened rarely) and critically rousing herself in a similar fashion to a student keeping awake in lecture.
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Himekaidou sweats profusely; she was unprepared. She may have erred.

Leaving a couple of documents behind at Aya's home, she went to sneakily grab them before her paper is distributed in the morn. She catches the time – Aya shouldn't return until after the matchmaking is done. This is an assumption. The door swinging open may be an indication that her assumption is wrong.

“Have you returned, Aya,” Himekaidou speaks to the door, “Pay myself no mind, I'll be here but for a minute. I've documents to reclaim.” She eyes the clock, two hours early from the matchmaking. “But a shame, Aya! No luck with men? I hold you no envy beca–”

The documents slip to the floor.

Aya, propped up by her partner's arms, blinks. Her dress lay unsashed, barely covering skin unfit for public eye.

“Um,” Himekaidou stutters, “have I intruded?”

“Mayhaps,” the man sheepishly answers.

And then Himekaidou did the mile-walk to the door, wordlessly shutting the door with a click. She dare not look Shameimaru in the eyes.
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Hello everyone, i am new to this whole writing thing, so i decided to try with a short, wanted to write an actual CYOA, but decided to practice like this(also to test my english since I recently learned to write it), whitout anything else to say, please go easy on me


Today, i was sitting at my usual spot at the stairs of the shrine, drinking tea, today was a unexpectedly tranquil day, no noisy magician coming to make conversacion and/or taking some of my tea leaves, those are not easy to make, no drunky Oni who i have to take care of, no caprichous gap youkai coming to bother, just one of those tranquil days like I used to have in my childhood, when genji was my only company.

Thinking of Genji, i wonder what he has been doing lately, he rarely apears in the lake I released him some time ago, mother used to tell me he tended to go adventuring on his own wharever I wasn't using for transportation, that most be it why he was even better at dodging that i am even today.

Mother, so much time had passed since the last time i see her, for all the i know, she had died in a previous incident when i was too young to remember what was happening at that time , since then, genji had been taking care of the incident resolving until my coming of age, ¿how he managed?, he was the one who teach me how to use the ying yang orbs after the fluke that was my first incident, thought in my defense, no one told me I would been against a fallen angel of death , that was not a good day for me.

People tend to see me as grumpy, i know that much, but, ¿can they blame me?, i had to bear with all kind of irritating people in a daily basis, let see they not starting to grump there.

That may seen a little hipocrite of mine, since I tend to not being that harsh in any of them, maybe that was my mistake in the first place.

Sometimes, i wonder where is the rest of the clan as gone, neither mother nor Genji ever told me about it, oh well, i guess it doesn't matter.
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i found to late that there was a section for short stories, the theme can be mover or is going to get deteled?
> Hello everyone, i am new to this whole writing thing, so i decided to try with a short, wanted to write an actual CYOA, but decided to practice like this(also to test my english since I recently learned to write it)

This is a terrible idea. It's understandable, and you're not the only person to think of this, but it's a terrible idea.

To get better at writing, you must read. Otherwise, you're only practicing doing it wrong.

In your case, the big problem—and the one that isn't excused by not being a native speaker of English—is that your punctuation is atrocious. Other than the use of "¿" and "¡" (apparently invented by the Real Academia Española in 1754), the punctuation conventions of Spanish and English are almost identical... so I infer that your use of punctuation in Spanish is just as bad. (Which means you should read more Spanish, too.)

> i found to late that there was a section for short stories, the theme can be mover or is going to get deteled?

Probably deleted. You should make sure you have a copy.

(Look at it in five years, to see how far you've come.)

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[18:35:06] <%Dan_Maku> Warriors do that thing where you dress as a flatchested bunny, right
[18:36:45] <HalaxisWasPhone> Dan yeah.
[18:36:47] <HalaxisWasPhone> Sure
[18:37:03] <HalaxisWasPhone> Kazuki in a bunny outfit when?
[18:38:28] <%Dan_Maku> When someone writes me some Kazuko
[18:41:26] <HalaxisWasPhone> Dan. There once was a fairy named Kazuko. She was swept off her feet by the tall and handsome dragon gatekeeper of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Then they fucked happily ever after.
[18:41:32] <HalaxisWasPhone> The end
[18:41:39] <Rally> 10/10
[18:41:47] <Rally> I will never read a better story in all my life
[18:41:59] <%Dan_Maku> APPLY YOURSELF


You are Kazuko Cherrypicker, and you are grumpy.

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>"Skin hard as steal and blood burning hot. Makes for comfy winters! It's going to take a lot more than a fairy to break down an old warri-"



>"NO." Goddammit it Summerfree



>"Got it, got it. So, Miss Kazuko" he asked
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>this many is just laziness.

Dude, it's Hal. It was probably on purpose because he is terrible. Don't worry Hal, I still love like am okay with you.

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Newbies, your stories go here. See the rules thread at >>/gensokyo/13365
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These recordings are protected under the provisions of SGB/273/ST, paragraph 87, of 7 September 1024




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"I want you to eat this."

Yukari motions towards the meat bun on the table. I glance up at Yukari for a second, but her face is plastered with a calm smile; I can't get a read on what she's thinking. If she's putting in effort to hide her intentions, I can't help but feel reluctant accepting this "gift".

I take the meat bun in my hands. The weight seems fine, and upon inspection I can see nothing that indicates this bun is anything but ordinary.

"C'mon Ran, hurry up and eat it! The whole thing." That frozen smile tells me there's no way I'm getting out of this, so I buckle to her whims and take a bite.

Mmm. Not bad. Actually, this is pretty good. I take a few more bites.

Hmm? Oh. Oh no. Why is my mouth suddenly on fire? Oh no.

I stop chewing and clasp my free hand over my mouth. I glare at Yukari through tear-filled eyes. From behind her back, she produces a glass of water. I reach out to take it, but she pulls it away, pointing at the half-finished bun in my hand.

Damn it.
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Something was near.
He couldn't see what it was yet. Leaves didn't rustle more than usually and there were no unexpected movements in the corner of his eyes, but there was a faint hint of unmistakable awareness in the air. He didn't know what the other being was, but it didn't matter. No matter the size of an interloper, the intent of a forest creature walking by or the amount of danger that anything could pose, something was there, so his body changed accordingly.

There were no different levels of change. Over the course of the years, the... beast he transformed into looked more and more threatening, gaining traits from many a predator who had stumbled upon him, as was his nature. While his entire body rapidly grew to a monstrous size, razor sharp teeth sprang from his widening maw and two imposing tusks started to form at the sides. His skin tightened, so that rippling muscles revealed itself to any who looked upon him. Horns sprouted from his forehead, towering above the lower branches of the leaf-roof while claws extended from his forearm, ready to tear apart anything that threatened him.

As the transformation came to its end, he spotted something looking at him a good distance away, nearing his beloved home. The creatures attention was however undoubtedly drawn but the noises his growth made. He straightened his body, making himself as tall as possible, and let out a bestial roar...

He was lost. Hopelessly lost.
He shouldn't have gone into the forest, heck, he should not have gone near the forest, but with only two days left to pay the colossal debt, there were only three options left. Pay with his life, give up the farm or pay in rare goods... Youkai...
His life was obviously out, and when you only have one option, you have no choice, as his late father used to say.

Of course he ran at the sight of the first youkai he encountered, he was no warrior, he was a goddamn farmer! He ran in
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Veterans, your stories go here. See the rules thread at >>/gensokyo/13365
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She comes to see him in a year. He does not remember which it is anymore. The humans say it is Meiji 18 and 1885 and one begins to sound as well as the other.

You've grown a few grey hairs, she says.

He pretends to laughs.


Once upon a time, there was a youkai who opened a doorway to the moon. She promised conquest, and she promised power.

He wanted neither, but he followed her anyway. She was just that kind of person, even if she wasn't a person at all.


I didn't think I would see you again, he says. He is sitting on the veranda, and so is she. The door is open behind him. He would rather it be shut.
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“Reimu~!” The black-white witch calls as she bursts dramatically through the shrine’s wall. The shrine maiden in question simply sighs and sips her tea, starring out the newly formed window. “Wanna play?” The blonde witch asks, ignoring Reimu’s blank stare.

“No,” Responds the shrine maiden, her attention turning back to a book sitting on her kotatsu. “Can you believe what Yukari wants us to do?”

“Huh? What’s she want us to do?” Marisa sits on her broom as it floats around the room.

“She wants us to go back to school.” Reimu sighs, turning the page. “How many times is this now?”

Marisa snags a tangerine from the table as she floats by. “No clue, I stopped keeping count.” She floats by and picks up another one. “Why’d we stop going the first time anyway?”

“Flandre and Patchouli.”

“Oh, right. That was fun.” Marisa winces as she picks up a third tangerine. “Oh, did you hear about Keine’s boyfriend?”

Reimu looks up with a grin, “You mean Mokou?”
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My mount was flagging, and I was running out of time.

I'd left the Czechs a half mile behind, spraying lead to cover my mad dash through the roadblock. Now I spurred my steed through the ghostly streets of Yekaterinburg, the meager moonlight playing on half-glimpsed street signs and the shadowed bulk of landmark buildings. My horse's sides heaved raggedly but I spared not the whip, knowing it was useless all the while.

I was within sight of the hillside when my steed finally gave up, slowing to a stumbling canter. Yanking my boots from the stirrups I hit the ground running as it collapsed, muzzle wreathed with foam. Up the street I sprinted, my heart thundering madly in my ears as I reached for that house on the hill with every mote of my soul.

They're going to murder the children.

The war, the great nation, the fulcrum of my existence, even the fate of humanity itself hung in the balance. But as I bolted up that street only one mad screaming thought filled every chamber of my being.

They're going to murder the girl.

I saw my goal at last, the harsh dark line of a tall wooden fence cutting across the bright white facade of a large house. There would be sentries, but I had a silencer and a wire, and of course my old friend. As long as I was on time, Dear Iwanaga, tell me there was still -

- the muted crack of pistol reports came drifting down the street.
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The first thing everyone notices about her are, of course, the white detached sleeves. Despite all the other frills and the bright red, it's always the detached sleeves that garner the most attention at first. You can't tell at a distance because they're tied to her arms most of the way up, but when you get closer, it's obvious. I've asked her why several times, but she's never really given a satisfactory answer. I think, way back when, it was her way of distinguishing herself from any other miko on the planet, which is dumb, because she's the most unique miko I've ever met, but then again, I've only met one other one. Anyway...

Usually its the red that focuses your attention on her dress next. She's actually got several different lengths, but the one most people see - and the one I call her "work dress" - is about knee length. The hem of the skirt is frilled with white, and just above the hemline there's a white dashed line pattern that goes all the way around. It's a perfect fit on her, which is more than a lot of people can say about their own clothes, especially my too-big and too-small skirts that I refuse to toss in the trash. Other than the frills, though, it's simple, just like her. Her small size one waist holds the thing up, with a little matching red button right on the front.

The shirt of her getup is the only thing not exclusively red or white. An orange ascot is tied in the center, wrapping around and underneath a white neckline. The neckline has frills as well, extending downward across the main red part of her shirt, with a red dashed line pattern just on the inside of the white. It's the complete opposite of the skirt, intentionally so, to break up the monotony of red-white-red-white. A simple thing to be sure, again, just like her. Underneath that shirt somewhere is a pair of- well, she'd say she's got nothing impressive. It's why she doesn't care when people stare at her chest. There is some truth there; after all, she doesn't eat a lot, and when you don't eat, you don't gain weight, and it doesn't do good for your figure when you don't eat.
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Aw. That's sweet.
So Reimu's new habit is drawing people?
Sure, why not? Seems like this should be a thing, so now it's a thing.

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You, who loves music but doesn't feel reciprocated. You, who lacks musical knowledge. You, who feels despised by the muses. You, who has dropped the healthy habit of taking baths because you don't dare to sing even under your own shower. You, who, when you join your voice to the fervent masses to sing your nathional anthem, is reprimanded by a hostile crowd that shouts 'you goddamned traitor!' at you. You, who believes music is a complex art only within reach of a few fortunate people. Yes, you, don't play coy! You, my dear reader, you can also succeed in the world of music!

Does it surprise you? Don't be surprised too much, because I, the great, magnanimous and talented kirin musician, Rin Satsuki, am going to give you the answers to all your musical concerns! I will teach you to know and master in a few lessons the most intimate secrets of music: how to compose songs; how to play instruments; how to write letters until the letters make words, and the words make musical poems - in other words, lyrics -, and how to read sheet musics in a steady rhythm, and not only steady, but other more difficult rhythms like tango, rock, or symphony.

The success of my method is tried and tested. Isamu Nakano was a sickly and complexed Russian kappa who lost his hand in an unfortunate accident involving cucumber missiles, didn't feel confident enough to confess his love to his beautiful tengu neighbor. After following my advices, he decided to sing her a serenade. His success was so fulminant, she asked for his hand on the spot. The other hand.

My advices can also help you. You just need to believe. And to believe, you just need conviction. And to have conviction, you just need to be convinced. And to be convinced, you just need to believe!

So, coat yourself with the conviction that you will learn music, and shielded on it, repeat e
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Bravo good sir, bravo.
I applaud you, good sir. This is truly one for the books.
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Pic related.

An absolute masterpiece. If there's one regret I had it's that the Touhou lore makes it slightly less amusing to the uninitiated, but for fans like us it has quite the opposite effect.

I can't wait to see what monstrosity you write in the future. It will be glorious.

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The shuttle launches, exploding, coughing, sputtering off into the confines of space. One Lunarian decided to rebel. Her punishment is eternal imprisonment in space beyond. Locked in a clean white pod, the traitor is sent into the darkness not yet ventured. She is doomed. Reisen Udongein Inaba is doomed. Fare thee well, lone bunny. Brave bunny. Stupid bunny. The moon shall remember thee not. All records are destroyed, all relations are severed, an unspoken (but certainly enforced) decree of not mentioning “her” name has been put into action. The benevolent, malicious, all-powerful, loving, sadistic queens have put this unwritten law into action. And unlike many disgruntled parents of stupidly curious children, it is absolute because they said so.
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Well. This is horrifying. Hope there's a continuation later.
I'll agree that this story was brilliant, but I think a direct continuation would cheapen it.
Not really, I think it can work out, if done correctly.

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I was still tied to the tree at that time, drifting in and out of consciousness. It was a tall, thick tree. I was naked, hugging this tree on my knees, with a series of ropes binding me there. My eyes were covered by a blindfold, and I could barely move my head. My neck was very stiff from holding it one position for so long. Hell, I was stiff everywhere – I had been stuck there since noon.

Night had fallen long ago. I could tell it was night because there was little light showing through the blindfold.

For hours, I had been waiting there for my death. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to die – maybe some youkai would find and eat me soon. Or maybe I would stand there until I died from sheer exhaustion. Either way, I had to wait. And wait I did.

Before long, I fell into sleep again.

~ ~ ~

I was awoken by my blindfold being roughly ripped off of my face. There was nothing to see, however. It was pitch-black. For a moment, I believed I had imagined the removal of the blindfold.

Then I could hear a whispering voice was in my ear.

“Good evening, human.”
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Yea that's why I didn't read it. I didn't want to ruin the glorious head cannon I built up in anticipation for this story's progression.
Hmmm, that's unfortunate. I would have enjoyed reading such a tale of suffering.
Oh, what sort of headcanon was that? You've piqued my curiousity...

To be honest, it would have been fun to write! Well, some of it. (Mainly just certain scenes with Rumia.) But yeah, a lot of it would have been beyond my abilities. Maybe "one day" I'll be able to write a true tale of despair.

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