(New Thread)
  • First time posting? Check out our site rules and FAQ.
  • Supported file types are: GIF, JPG, PNG, WEBM, WEBP.
  • Maximum file size allowed is 4096 KB.
  • Images greater than 200x200 pixels will be thumbnailed.
  • View catalog
Show or hide post box

Thread 1862 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Toggle Omitted Posts
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143341616024.jpg - (190.16KB, 700x993, image.jpg)
image
"Everyone get down!" I shout amidst the roar of the battle. Not a second later a huge wave of frost engulfs the area where my head was not too long ago. "Damn it!” I curse under my breath, “Holly what's our status?" I take this brief moment of respite against the enemy to see how the party is doing.

Holly, our dwarven cleric, responds with her thick norsemen accent, "We ain't doin so well Cap! Wee James just got hit by the the bastards tail and I'm all out of juice!" Her thick accent made it hard to hear over the din of battle but you could understand what she meant. "Hate to say it Cap'n but I think we may be in trouble."

"Why is that?" The answer comes by her pointing behind me, only for me to get a face full of dragon, "FUCK! Dude! personal space!" Startled by my proximity to the dragon I respond by stabbing my dagger straight into its eye. His pained reaction, while hilarious, only proceeds to anger the creature further.

"Foolish pests!" It roars, anger filling its lungs, "how dare you assault my chamber! I am Arereseafulafar the Frozen King of the North!" The dragon once more takes a deep breath, about to make Holly and I icicles.

"Yeah? And you're about to be the frozen king of the floorboards you fat fuck!" A very familiar voice shouts back as the dragon receives a fireball straight to the face. God bless Averine that magnificent bastard, taking this opportunity I quickly duck behind another pillar and dive for the item we were sent here to get. Not too pretty I must admit, but why the hell a dragon would keep a mithril short sword of dragon slaying is beyond me. After taking a firm grip on the handle I pull my cowl over my head and slinking lower to the ground avoiding detection. Our fighter, after my sudden retreat, gets the attention of the dragon with a well placed claymore to the leg. I know we have one shot left to finish this before things go south, we have been fighting the beast for almost three minutes and everyone's running on fumes. With the final bit of courage I can muster I climb the stone pillar next to me to reach the rafters hi
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.
 [View thread]
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143853132852.jpg - (104.91KB, 900x670, image.jpg)
image
Boom! The sound of thunder resonates through the hospice room as I slowly open up my eye. Rain hitting the roof of the building with small thuds. Sitting in a chair not too far from my bed is the girl from earlier, Aya was it? It’s hard to tell from the rain but it appears to be nighttime outside and I don’t even know what day it...Is that a calendar? I squint my good eye to try and see through the darkness to the other side of the room where there appears to be a paper calendar situated to the left of the window. Bah! I can’t even tell what those symbols mean, I must be running low on spirit reserves. Sending a mental ping to check my power reserves they are indeed low probably spent making sure I didn't die, barely functioning in fact, however that isn’t the only reason.

A small gap in my spirit energies tells me one of them is made manifest around here. It's strange that one of them would manifest themselves outside of combat situations so this must have been important for them.

A small whimpering comes from the left of the bed. I shift slightly to get a closer look, and peer over the edge. Leaning against the bed huddling in a small ball is my dear Siara, my spirit of water, crying.

This girl is my manifestation of the water spirit, these spirits come in many different forms, depending on the relation between the elementalist and the spirit. For me, Siara is a small girl of eastern origin. She has long black hair that reaches down to her waist, and stands roughly a meter tall. She has eyes the color of crystal clear water, and wears an all blue dress with wave patterns riddled across its surface. You could say I treat her like a daughter. She is a real cry baby but I can’t bring myself to be hard on her compared to the other spirits because of it.

She continues to stifle small tears as I gently whisper to her and ask what's wrong?

She jumps a bit, as if not expecting me to even be conscious right now. Collecting herself she stands up, her head barely able to look over the bed and turns to look at me. "Well umm... The other spirits and myself were worried about your conditions. You seem to be taken care of rather well but we haven&
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.
Delete Post
Report Post
Post to another board
Delete Post
Report Post
New thread is here; >>/others/62265

Thread 1874 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Toggle Omitted Posts
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143927947481.jpg - (130.91KB, 850x621, sample-27d012457173f7bddadd73134040bb49.jpg)
sample-27d012457173f7bddadd73134040bb49
Veterans, your stories go here. Read the rules at >>/gensokyo/13738
 [View thread]
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 144236136092.jpg - (86.08KB, 1284x736, 5442e1d2f88f07a388dc81c645b36d00.jpg)
5442e1d2f88f07a388dc81c645b36d00
Today is not a good day.

...

I made it home.

It took me a long time to recover enough to pick up a pen.

Minutes, maybe hours passed while I just sat there and tried to breathe.

My heart felt like it would explode if I lost concentration for just one second.

My heartbeat felt too fast, more like a continuous stream rather than individual beats.

But, here I am now.

...

I don't know how one should write in a diary.

I've mostly been pacing back and forth, sitting back down to write a line every few minutes.

I can't bring myself to look upwards, at lines already put down. But this is why I'm using ink.

I need only to suppress my desire to rip out the page.

...

At some point, I remembered to take off my boots. Allowing my feet to breathe, preventing me from tracking mud around my house.

The forest gets so annoyingly muddy this time of year.

It's so annoying.

Cleaning up the mud is a chore. Taking off my boots is a chore.

An unnecessary extra "thing" to do.

Were it up to me, I could just sit in place and do nothing.

Like a vegetable.

But simply being alive brings with itself obligations and burdens.

Well, as long as you wish to be part of the civilized world.

There is always the option of... killing my mind, going feral.

But that too would be inconvenient.

Feral creatures do not live in cushy houses that shelter them from the elements.

They do not eat meals they prepare out of refrigerated goods that they didn't need to scavenge for.

Not that I need to eat, of course.

It's just that I'm too weak to give up these convenient aspects of life, so I must bear the obligations that come with them.

...

I went and checked on my guest.

Still asleep. Good.

The drugs seem to have worked well, providing a peaceful sleep.

Something I myself have not known in far too long.

And immeasurable unit of time.

Every night, lying down in bed is like strapping myself to a torture tab
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 144239009770.png - (1.20MB, 933x999, 5a7d52982e85c9a4dafd7f0facf89a57.png)
5a7d52982e85c9a4dafd7f0facf89a57
The first time I encountered the snow maiden, I had just turned ten years old.

I had run away from home. In the excitement of my younger brother being born, and the anger of my older brother being caught stealing, my parents had forgotten about my own birthday. I had been replaced, I thought, and this time I decided to run away for real. Not just to the shed out back, or to the school where I played hide and seek with our friends. I packed myself two meals, a change of clothes, and I left my home. I walked until the village gates, and then walked some more. I walked past the farms, and away from the trails to the shrine or mountains. I walked far away from the safety of the village. I walked into what I knew was the domain of youkai, but I didn't care. I just wanted to run away, as far as I could go.
By the time the sun began to set, I was already hopelessly lost. I had no idea where I was. I didn't know of any landmarks or features I could use to get my bearings. All I saw around me was short grass, tall trees, and great mountains. I sat down to eat the food I had brought, and as the sun set and the winter night began to replace it, I grew cold. The clothes I was wearing were too light. I took out the spare clothes I had brought and wrapped them around myself to keep warm. It was then that I started to panic. With the night came darkness, and with the darkness came fear of what lied beyond the pale moonlight. My imagination ran wild with tales of youkai, and the horrific fates of those who encountered them. I began frantically running, searching for anything that I might be able to use as shelter before the last glimmer of light faded. To me, in that moment, a hollowed tree trunk looked like the inviting arms of my mother. I regretted running away as I holed up inside it, and slept through the night unharmed.

The next morning, it began to snow. The cold winter didn't care that I was out here. As the snow began to blanket the ground, I was no longer able to even tell what way I had come to get here, and my mad dash the previous night cost me all sense of direction. I finished the last of the food I had brought, and left the comforting shelter that the tree hollow provided. A
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 144244680837.jpg - (527.73KB, 707x1000, 8ff2076c9e318ddc80bb3d42a8ad2186.jpg)
8ff2076c9e318ddc80bb3d42a8ad2186
She hefted me to my feet, and I'd be a liar if I said that lying there on the ground was good for me. But standing was worse.

“You're not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?” She brushes the broken glass off my shirt, and I groan. I'd jumped through the window after breaking it with a convenient rock, tripped, and landed on the broken glass face-first. And thankfully I missed the broken glass with my face.

“So. Sit down and let's do something about that glass in your arms. Then you will explain things to me.” I'm frogmarched to a chair by a surprisingly strong girl with rabbit ears, and she sits me down.

While she plucks out the glass from my arm and applies (probably-deliberately) overly-stinging peroxide to the cuts, she prompts me to explain what made me break into her pharmacy. During the middle of the day. When she was just in the back for something.

“I, I, got a problem.”

“No shit,” she replies.

“I needed my fix.”

“Fix of what? Aspirin? Sulfa drugs? You get high off beta blockers, kid?”

“D-don't you have any of the hard stuff, like opium, or cocaine?”

She snorts in derision as she continues to clean my wounds. “What is this? The nineteenth century? Look, there's maybe a bit of morphine, but we haven't done straight-up opium in like, a century here.” She stops, and looks into my eyes. Hers are red, sparkling, beautiful, and angry. “What are you going to do when I call the cop on you?” Cop, singular. Kotohime's still the only one who takes on that 'job'. God knows I don't want to have to deal with her again.

Reisen raises my arm, and turns it underside-up. I blush and turn away. “Track marks,” she says. Of course she'd notice. “You know, kid, the world's gonna roll you one of these days. Look. I'll make you a deal, I don't want to see you waste away your life. You work here now, for me. And I won't report this crime to the authorities if you make something of it. We got a deal?”

I nod, knowing that I never planned to show up here again.

“Good,” she says, finishing up
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Thread 1876 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143933378435.jpg - (186.66KB, 534x753, say hi naz.jpg)
say hi naz
See >>/gensokyo/13743 for the formalities.

All SFW submissions should go here.
 [View thread]

Thread 1875 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143927950970.jpg - (208.00KB, 850x850, sample-babe2838d850de0a9a3eb75b2e5c4a41.jpg)
sample-babe2838d850de0a9a3eb75b2e5c4a41
Newbies, your stories go here. Read the rules at >>/gensokyo/13738
 [View thread]
Delete Post
Report Post
Isn't it sad, THP? ;_;

Thread 1850 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 142961022628.jpg - (1.21MB, 2800x3000, 29d73c958cf2ef73974584cc82cb4851.jpg)
29d73c958cf2ef73974584cc82cb4851
Newbies, this is where you put your entries. Be sure to read the rules at >>/gensokyo/13629
 [View thread]
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143285549784.png - (4.35KB, 192x192, i'm conway.png)
i'm conway
It seemed like the perfect break. I had to get out of my city; she had a job nobody in hers would take. I’ll admit, I’d have been suspicious of the payout, too, if she hadn’t paid up front for a business-class seat on a flight there. The job itself was simple enough: break into some old bat’s retirement home and scan some research notes from its library.

There was a catch, of course—there’s always a catch. This one’s was ‘old bat’ being more literal than you’d think. In the sense of ‘centuries-old vampire’. Because vampires are real things that exist and own opulent, non-Euclidean lakefront properties, and so are wizards with wizard libraries and wizard research notes and very strong opinions about intellectual property.

And that’s not even getting started on the neighbourhood.

The upshot is—the client stuck my phone with some sort of magic red metal, so now I can Crosslink magicrap just like regular circuits. Not sure on the utility of that back Outside, but you never know. I mean, I didn’t when I took this job, and look where I am now.


Uh, and that would be hanging from the ceiling, having narrowly evaded a giant laser-turned-breaching-charge out of sheer luck.


A pointy black witch’s hat flies in from the rain, on the head of what is presumably therefore a witch. Shaking herself off from her stint outside in the dark-and-stormy, the witch immediately takes to raking books off the shelves and into a sack of the kind that would have indignant burglars crying about ‘reinforcing the stereotype’.

Observing for a moment, I decide the wisest course of action would probably be to get the hell away before the librarian shows up.

As I clamber—still on the ceiling—towards the newly-installed egress, however, one crucial difference between East Point and the Eastern Wonderland makes itself apparent: back Outside, people don’t bother looking up, because back Outside, flight is not a common personal ability. So the witch’s gaze sweeps in three degrees
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Thread 1851 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 142961053246.jpg - (154.31KB, 850x478, sample-sized only because it broke the size limit.jpg)
sample-sized only because it broke the size limit
Veterans, this is where you put your entries. Be sure to read the rules at >>/gensokyo/13629
 [View thread]
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143129170339.jpg - (381.90KB, 1000x650, like father like son.jpg)
like father like son
In retrospect, I really shouldn't have expected robbing a palace in Hell to have gone smoothly.

Now, there's a lot I could say about how Sully and I flew to Japan, smuggled an open four-by-four into Gensokyo (and how we found out about that place is another thing entirely), drove underground, and broke into this 'Palace of the Earth Spirits' (a place I'd have loved to explore more but for, you know, the shooting and everything), but I'll just cut to the part where we were driving said four-by-four back out, my satchel loaded down with-

Well, let's just say it was something that'd leave us sitting pretty for a long, long time to come, yeah?

Anyway, you wouldn't think you could easily drive a car around inside a building, but whoever built the place really, and I mean really, went all-out here. I'm talking hallways you could fit a tank in with room to spare, something Sully was taking full advantage of as our ride squealed through the tiled hallways. While that crazy old son of a bitch drove, I was taking wild shots with my pistol at the people chasing us.

Now I've dealt with a lot of crazy stuff in my time, but I don't think they hold up to a woman with a giant orange rod stuck on her arm and raven wings carrying her through the air, and that's not counting the fist-sized Eye of Sauron she had on her chest, and also there was her cape with stars flowing on the inside? I was too busy being terrified of the freakin' laser beams she was shooting out of that arm-cannon to get a better look. In comparison, the little redheaded kitty-girl flying next to her and pitching fastball skulls at us just seemed tame.

"Incoming!" I yelled, ducking just as one of those flaming skulls smashed against the back of the four-by-four and exploded, face-meltingly hot blue fire rising high for a split second. "Holy crap!"

The key word was in comparison.

"Hold still!" Utsuho bellowed (the crow woman, just to be clear (and how I learned her name, as w
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 143187272197.png - (124.01KB, 448x336, it must be scratched.png)
it must be scratched
“She knew about this, you know,” Lyrica whispers. They sit huddled by the safehouse windows, four in a row. (Not under—they learned that rule the hard way, when the missiles tore through the last rest stop. No windows, no hats.)

“Who did?” Reimu asks.

A long time ago (a week ago), Lyrica's smile was sly and quiet. Today it is filled with teeth. Reimu thought Merlin would crack first across the three of the sisters, Merlin with her boundless energy tumbled into restraints, but it is the thinker Lyrica who is the closest to faling over the edge. She can hear Lyrica during the nights, when they're pretending any of them can sleep—Lyrica, muttering at the walls, creaking louder than the floorboards, with plans and plans and nothing to execute them with.

“Layla,” says Lyrica. “Layla knew about this, I mean. She told us stories.”

And Reimu is the last of the Hakurei at the moment, keeper of the Shrine, guardian of the Border (and you sure did a bang-up job of that this time, didn't you, dear), but it's dark and she's tired and she's spent too many hours already cooped up shoulder to shoulder to a girl who's only barely on this side of real, so she snaps, “Told you stories about Gensokyo and an army of clowns?”

“We weren't from Gensokyo,” Lyrica hisses back. “None of us are. I was just going to ask—” She stops, looks away, lips twitching, and Reimu has the sudden feeling she's gone too far, like maybe she's spent so long watching Lyrica at the precipice that she forgot her own feet were there, too.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted in, but forget it,” Lyrica says. We'll get our things back on our own. Come on.”

She leaves the safehouse, shoulders high until the moment she crosses the doorway and she has to watch her back again (the difference between pride and stupidity). Her sisters follow behind her, single-file, like students on a field trip—Merlin first, then Lunasa, who pauses at the light to look one last time at Reimu and Reimu can't tell if it's disapp
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Thread 1265 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Toggle Omitted Posts
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 138345632027.png - (795.46KB, 1000x738, f13f8e8f23bf68e93edee5f9c8195993.png)
f13f8e8f23bf68e93edee5f9c8195993
I didn't mean to kill her.

I didn't mean to kill her.

I didn't mean to kill her.

I repeat this sentence to myself, trying to convince myself that it is true.

It was an accident. It was a fit of insanity. You didn't expect it to kill her.

But you know none of it's true. It might have only been for just a second, but you did mean to kill her. At that moment, every fiber of your being wished for her to die.

Let's go back a few years to the day we met.

The afterparty for my brother's wedding.

My little brother had always been more successful in all things than I had been. My grades were above average; he was an honor student. I had a few girlfriends through highschool; he had girls swooning over him. I just finished my internship as a programmer for a local big-name software company; he just finished law school and practically skipped straight past his internship and is on his way to starting his own law firm.

He now had a beautiful, loving wife, and I was still looking.

Or so I thought. And then I saw her.

Long, flowing brown hair. Hazel eyes so beautiful that I could sing. And her smile, bright and cheerful, yet honest.

Now, I'm going to be honest. I didn't hate my brother, or have any bad feelings at all about him for his success. For most of my life, I just wanted him to look up to me. And, despite everything, he did. I just wanted what was best for him. Sure, it was sometimes despiriting to see him succeeding so vibrantly where I had merely done okay, but I truly loved my brother, and I'm sure he loved me as well.

Which is why no one thought it was strange when he reluctantly peeled himself away from his loving bride for a few minutes to catch up. After all, we had both been quite busy, me with my internship and him with intense studying for his bar exam. We had a lot to catch up on.

It was while we spoke, filling each other in on what we'd both missed of each other, that I saw her. Laughing and sharing stories with a few other women I don't recognize. I was so captivated by her
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.
 [View thread]
Delete Post
Report Post
I feel like this isn't even a short, more like a just right. Many stories would benefit from this kind of brevity. Rumia was cute, we fucked a dog girl, some other stuff happened. What more could you ask for?

Congrats on finishing, you are the THP 1%.
Delete Post
Report Post
Was a good run, congrats on completion
Delete Post
Report Post
>>1804
>>1805
>>1806

Yeah, about that...

New thread: >>/th/182940

Moving boards because this isn't really a short anymore.

Thread 752 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Toggle Omitted Posts
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 135220659913.jpg - (334.94KB, 899x1155, 91c2d00d6bb729010e4badd29c79a038.jpg)
91c2d00d6bb729010e4badd29c79a038
This

is something that was supposed to become a story

a story it became not

so here I am, reposting

because I originally deleted it because it was supposed to become a story, but then it did not become one, but the thread was still deleted, and now no one can read it, and this board is slow anyway, so someone might appreciate the activity, and I am a huge butt face

‘Scuse me while I sort out the formatting.
 [View thread]
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 142655891485.jpg - (166.26KB, 600x792, 2b0f1e2388c62aa21fd90cb1a1a9347e.jpg)
2b0f1e2388c62aa21fd90cb1a1a9347e
DED STORY

DED THRED

>>1841
And yet that's all she wrote (if my resumed silence and the bold HERE ENDS weren't telling enough). I hope whoever, let's say, commissioned this is satisfied, and once again I apologise for taking so long to wrap it up. With this out of the way, I don't think anything else remains to be said.
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 142656489543.jpg - (23.71KB, 346x346, heroism intesifies.jpg)
heroism intesifies
>>1842
>>1842
Sorry, you lost me.

Anyway, looking forward for the next update!
Delete Post
Report Post
>>1842

>I hope whoever, let's say, commissioned this is satisfied,

Yep.

>and once again I apologise for taking so long to wrap it up.

No worries.

>With this out of the way, I don't think anything else remains to be said.

Thanks for the story, YAF. See ya later.

Thread 1815 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Toggle Omitted Posts
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 142120450433.jpg - (704.46KB, 1920x1360, Another Moonlight Incident.jpg)
Another Moonlight Incident
There was a tree behind the shrine
As long as she remembered,
Through every tick of passing time
And every last December,
And since she was quite self-aware
That written were her seasons,
Hakurei Reimu said, “It’s there -
That tree - yes - for a reason.”

She pondered long and pondered hard
Of what the tree could mean-
Of what her author (curse that tard)
Intended to be seen-
Was it a symbol? Metaphor?
A meaning tucked away?
To force the readers to think more
On what he had to say?
A piece of pure pretentiousness-
Or worse yet, maybe not,
But rather there to start a mess
Of convoluted plot,
So she followed the cues her well
-known intuition sent,
Declaring “I’ll show them all hell
Who forged this incident”.

Through violence and terror
She made foes tremble for ages,
Ignoring every error
As she smote through six long stages
Of cards and signs and bullet balls,
Of other painful things,
Of girls who were transparent walls
And wannabe god-kings,
Of CG-animated halls
And tiny girls with wings,
Until at last she stood to face
The foe that she had sought,
Some asshole with no sense of pace
Who hammered keys a lot,
And tried to bash his head in
To relieve her sleepless nights -
Only to learn, to her chagrin
That he wrote all the fights.

“I’ll tell you anyways,” he said,
“Just what you sought to know,
I’ll not torment you ‘til you’re dead-”
-He told, rather than show -
“To know why analysis failed,
Just listen close to me-
‘Twas there to make the world detailed.
The tree is just a tree.”
 [View thread]
Delete Post
Report Post
lol that was really good ^_^b
Delete Post
Report Post
>>1817
>>1818

>XD
>^_^b

Please don't do that. Go read >>/gensokyo/6052.

If you're new here, follow the instructions in >>/forest/28235 to get up to speed.
Delete Post
Report Post
I quite liked it. Good work.

Thread 1810 hidden.  Show Thread
 [Reply]
Watch Thread
Hide Thread
Expand All Images
Image Source
Delete Image
Delete Post
Report Post
File 141949519772.png - (1.29MB, 1125x842, 772ce5168686b9090a491e44bb1b02fe.png)
772ce5168686b9090a491e44bb1b02fe
This story is a Christmas special for GDiY. You can find the first thread at >>1265 (and the current thread at >>/th/182940).

Merry Christmas, and enjoy.

---

The hot fire fills my body with warmth as I sit near the fireplace, relaxing after a long day of work shoveling the roads while watching snow lazily drift toward the ground through the window.

Yes, a window in Gensokyo, and I'm not even in the home of a village noble! I'm still not quite clear on how Keine managed to afford this thing. She may be the village guardian, but from what I've seen, that's more or less a volunteer role. All of her actual income seems to be from teaching, which unfortunately doesn't pay much more than it does in the outside. She gained a few new students after it became known that she was housing an outsider, mostly noble brats fascinated by the outside world, but attendance isn't nearly as universal as it was in the outside world, with most children either spending the day working for their families or learning a specific craft. It's unfortunate that a basic education is somewhat of a luxury, but unfortunately there's not much that can be done about that. Without the technological advances we've had in the outside world, it just isn't feasible for someone old enough to work a field or swing a hammer to not do so.

But, as unfortunate as the education situation is here in Gensokyo, this window sure is lovely. I take a sip of hot tea as I appreciate the view. As I set down the cup, I hear the familiar soft rumble of the front door sliding open. Since this is about the time I was expecting Keine to return, I turn to greet her. Instead, however, I'm enthusiastically greeted by Rumia.

Carrying some sort of evergreen tree.

The whole tree, mangled roots and all.

"Uh, Rumia, what exactly are you doing?" I ask, confused. "What's with the pine tree?"

"It's a fir," she explain
Message too long. Click here to view the full text.
 [View thread]
Delete Post
Report Post
Truly, Gensokyo is singing with Christmas Spirit.
Delete Post
Report Post
it went every well, all things considered (HavinG Flandre and Okuu in the same place)
Delete Post
Report Post
I feel the need to state the obvious that it seems as if that ending is relevant to the main story in some strange way.

Board Pages

- Took 0.01s -
Thread Watcher x
Reply toX