It’s good to be home. Or it will be, once you get past the Border.

You still remember when you left Gensokyo, young and starry-eyed and itching to see the world outside that tiny bubble, perched on that outsider’s shoulder. They said you wouldn’t last a month. They said you wouldn’t have a scrap of belief to live on.

You cannot wait to see their faces when you return, in your full-grown glory and your elegant European suit, and tell them how that outsider wound up becoming a famous poet. How his greatest work fed you enough belief to go from that little boy who could barely spend a whole day in human form to – and here you’re tooting your own horn somewhat, but it’s quite true according to ladies far and wide – the strapping man you are today.

You’ll tell them of all the mad adventures you’ve had in a world far less dead to the supernatural than they had feared. Psychopomps carrying heads made of cheese doing battle with neckless knights over who had the right to their shared myth of origin. Strange flying mushroom men in Groucho Marx glasses arguing with a coal-black genius of fantasy-science. Infinite varieties of vampires and were-things, who were actually quite entertaining thanks to how often you got to kick their fangs in. Spirits, ghosts, gods, angels, demons…

Before you can do that, though, you’ll need to get back through the Border. The pulsing wrongness of it still strikes dread into you, even as it offers no response to the touch of your black-gloved fingers.

[]For all of Lady Yakumo’s cunning, she always forgets that most supernatural beings can fly.
[]There was a shrine that marked a safe entryway, right?
[]With all the force of myth behind you, you can probably just brute-force it.
[]You still have that odd little token…

[X] “If she wants me, she'll get nothing less. I'll go now. Delaney, it was good to see that you're okay. Kaguya, if Mokou shows up, I want to hear about it straight off. And thanks.”


Some people will spend all their lives working out a single part of their body – the wishbone.

Not you; you've nurtured it enough already. You have fed it to the point of gross obesity, you've exalted it above divinity, and you've polished it to shine brighter than a twenty four-carat diamond. If you reached out and slapped it up on the sky among the stars, nobody would ever tell it apart. Astronomers around the world would be flummoxed for years to come. All conceptions of physics could change to accord the discovery. New religions would spring like mushrooms after heavy rain. Science as humanity knows it may very well go to the devil. The world could be thrown into another dark age, and you would be the one to thank for it.

However, you won't do that. Not because you wouldn't want the infamy of single-handedly setting civilisation back a couple of centuries. Not because science is already one leg in hell and you would rather it stayed at least half on this side for a while longer. And certainly not because you never wanted to be the central figure of a shady new religion.

It's because you want to start developing a different part of your skeleton.

The backbone.


“Very well,” you say. “If the shifty vixen wants me, she will get nothing less.”
A slightly nervous look flickers in the breezy nurse's eyes, but she nimbly re-assumes a smile. “Ah ha,” she says, “I see Master Eirin doesn't care whether you're a patient or the staff. Just don't call her out on that. She'll take you out of your skin and stick you in a tube. Ah, and Princess?” She grins awkwardly at Kaguya. “This will stay between the four of us, right?”
“I believe that would be for the best,” the princess seals the “all right to badmouth your boss and my caretaker as long as it is in private” decree with an permitting nod, “ but tell me – a guest?”
“Sod the guest,” you say. “I'l

“Alas for those that never sing,
 But die with all their music in them!”

—Oliver Wendell Holmes

The decision to help all beings achieve enlightenment and happiness is the meaning of being a Bodhisattva. This can take many forms, and may happen in life, or happen after choosing to descend from heaven to help others.

---

Senses, something alien after a thousand years, scents of a forest, the feeling of the hard ground around you, it’s overwhelming.
The sun is bright, even behind closed eyes. You pull on the ground and hoist yourself to a sitting position finally opening your eyes.
…
White… a white path seemingly going on for miles, with the faint outline of a building in the distance shadowed by the morning sun. It seems familiar, where are you?
A snap, you clutch your head in pain, memories coming to bear all at once in your brain, you see them, fighting for your attention, a war, a journey, a decision, too vague to make out amidst the pain, but one thing stands out as the memories fade, the reason you descended.

“Sister…”

You remember now, your sister, Byakuren. So distraught by death she sought immortality. The very antithesis of your teachings, even worse, she has resorted to working with Youkai. Because of this, you have received a mandate, either move her from this path, or kill her.

But first you must find her, a quick glance shows the path is made out of ornate stone, marked by lanterns of the same material, it’s well worn and appears to be traveled frequently, behind the path goes on around a corner, but you can see smoke in the distance, a village perhaps?

Around you sits a forest, thick, and undisturbed.

Where are you going?

[] Make your way towards the building.
[] Head towards the smoke.
[] Veer off into the forest.


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First time posting on THP, not a new writer but I have never written a story publicly before, majority of what I have written are role-playing campaigns and settings, so criticism is nessecary at this point, thank you.

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You gently put a hand on her shoulder, she doesn't respond so you take that as a good sign. If she was truly mad she would have slapped your hand away. “Youmu,” you say in a soothing voice, hoping it doesn’t come off as condescending. “That totally doesn't count as your first kiss. Just forget about it, and kiss somebody that you genuinely care for. Then you'll see that this was meaningless, and your first kiss will be all the more special.” You just say what you’re thinking and hope that she understands.

Her expression changes from anger to surprise, then to confusion, and settling with embarrassment. “W-what are you saying? It totally counts!”

“Did you enjoy it?” You ask with a small frown. She shakes her head. “Then it doesn’t count. It only counts if you enjoy it.” Koishi looks about to say something but you stop her. “Please don’t say anything.” She quickly closes her mouth and even covers it with her hands. Youmu just looks at you awkwardly. “So, uh,” you aren’t quite sure what to say now. “How about we, uh, watch the match?”

“O-okay,” she says turning to the action. You look at the combatants to see that the action is in full swing.

“Wait, when did they start? I can’t hear anything!”

Koishi giggles loudly. “You don’t know much about spell card duels do you?”

“What do you mean?” You ask as she plops down on your lap once more. You think you see Youmu glaring at her.

“So we don’t harm anyone if a duel, we put up a barrier that blocks all danmaku and sound. We don’t want to burst anyone’s eardrums with all the noise we make. We can’t hear anyone else while we’re in the field either, so people can’t distract us by saying something silly.” Koishi is watching the match with a whimsical look on her face. She doesn’t seem to care about the fight, but enjoys being here anyway.

From what you can see through t

No, the main character is not a trap, nor does he look like a lady.


The sun was shining brightly, with just a smattering of clouds overhead to make it seem like a perfect day. Despite this, the temperature made it intolerably hot for most people, so the well-travelled road was practically empty on that sweltering day.

Yet perhaps in defiance to the blazing heat, a solitary man walked down this road. He wore simple blue jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt over his lithe form, with basic tennis shoes covering his feet. His brown hair was bogged down with sweat, yet his brown eyes still shone with energy. In his right hand was a long and rather plain black staff, which he used as a walking stick for his journey.

It was not known how long he had been walking, not even to him, yet to him his purpose was very clear. He had set out in search of the mythical land of Gensokyo as a means of escape.
It was not that he was running from any particular person or group, but rather it was his life he was seeking an exit to. It’s not that he hated it, it was just getting stale.

Or so he would say.

Nonetheless, his journey was almost at an end.
He had reached Gensokyo, yet he would rather not try to live out in the wilds. He would much prefer a simpler life in the village he heard of from the Hakurei shrine maiden, which supposedly was at the end of this road. With this information, he set out as soon as he could, making steady progress with no breaks for himself since the sun had risen earlier that day.

Eventually the village he sought out had appeared on the horizon, marking the end of his search for a new home. Within minutes he had come up to the village gate, walking in front of one of the guards stationed there. The guard was about the same height as him, perhaps slightly shorter, but the weapon he held made him more intimidating out of principle.

Despite this, the man showed no trepidation in his approach, looking the guard straight in the eye the entire time. The guard’s gaze swept over the man’s body, taking in his style of dress and overall appearance.

“An outsider I presume?” the guard asked. The man nodded in response.

 “All love stories are tales of beginnings. When we talk about falling in love, we go to the beginning, to pinpoint the moment of freefall.”

—Meghan O'Rourke

Momiji was eying that chocolate earlier and you could go for some right now so you quickly head back to grab it from the shelf and bring it up to the register. Momiji just watches you with a puzzled look. “Hey there Rinnosuke!”

“Hi Aaron, where’s Yukari? I don’t see her anywhere.” His golden eyes dart around the room like he’s looking for a thief.

“She’s not here,” you say simply.

“That’s strange, normally she’s the one who brings you here. Did something happen?” He actually sounds worried.

You shake your head. “Nothing to worry about, I just moved out that’s all.”

He looks at you with an expression of disbelief. “You moved out? How did she take it? What are you doing for money?”

“She actually gave me money to buy a house, but I used it to buy a bar instead. She didn’t take that very well, but once I prove that I can do it I’m sure she’ll be proud.” Well, you hope she’ll be proud.

“Ha, well good luck with that. I’ll stop by if I get the chance, so just let me know if you need anything. Oh, and the chocolates are on the house. Consider it a gift for finally moving out of her house.” You wonder how he stays in business when he either give everything away or keeps it for himself. Oh well, he obviously enjoys his job so you can’t criticize him.

“Thanks, I’ll come by again sometime!” You wave goodbye as you walk towards the door where Momiji waits. “Ready?”

She nods. “Yeah, but why did you buy that?” She points the bag of chocolates in your hand.

“I thought it’d be nice for everyone to share back at the bar. This way you can have some chocolate without worrying about eating too much. Plus I wanted some when I saw it, so it works out.” You start to feel slightly awkward as you say this.

“Thanks! But are you sure it’s a good idea to give fairies chocolate? Their hyper enough as is.” She seems nervous about giving fairies chocolate, but you figure it’ll be fine as long as they don’t have too much. “Well, anyway, do you want to walk or fly?”

You don’t even have to think about it. “We’ll w

A flash of light outside a plain paned window and a thunderous crash broke the monotony of the rain that had continued for the better half of the evening, the raindrops also guilty of lulling a man swaddled in linen and quilts to sleep atop his desk chair. Yet this natural alarm that cracked the sky in two with a brilliant glow did stir the man from his slumber so slightly that a hand might reach out and grasp at layers of paper that accumulated over the hours upon the desk surface. This hand was time-worn and lined with the proof of the years that had passed, but not by many winters at the barrow or tending to the shop. This hand knew the touch of a dusty tome and entire weeks devoted to turning tens of hundreds of pages, it knew the brushings of a quill pen against the fibrous parchment, the muscles beneath the worn hand knew the movements to a few but practiced incantations, from lighting a candle with a touch of heat, or charming the librarian with a spark and cheery sound. The hand also belonged to a person, who's form stirred again underneath the pile of comfort and warmth it had allotted itself this stormy night.

But yet this person did not display any more than a stir, it's heart ticked slowly in the chest, the clockwork blood engine worn after years confined to a study and a paper strewn desk. This heart could not continue to fuel the hand it had owned on it's grasp for air and allotted it to fall on the desk once more. The man's lungs protested, expanding and contracting below the heart, dragging air through the old cracked lips it had serviced for so many long nights, mouthing unsuccessfully the difficult spells and syllables that the person so wished it could. If only he had more time, if only he didn't lay dying this very moment. If only the old heart could beat for just one more night, he would become a true magician, if those old legs would carry him to his chair another time, he could finally spout flame from his fingers with no more difficulty than breathing air. If those mentioned lungs would service him just for yet a few hours, this old man could invigorate his body with but a gesture and a slash of ink on paper. If only this man, this quivering pile of ski

Okay, so I've been writing here for a little while but I'm going to use another name at the moment until I'm sure I can balance two stories. The story is about a entrepreneur who chooses to open a bar on the outskirts of the human village. The story will for the most part be a comedy with some romance. I'm also not going to use a proofreader, at least not in the beginning because I'm working on seeing my own errors and fixing them myself. That said, if you notice any grammatical errors do point them out, I won't know what to fix if you don't. So with out further ado, I present to you Wild Afternoons, Strong Tastes, and Extreme Drunkenness (Abbreviated WASTED)!
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It has been over one hundred years since Gensokyo has been dimensionally dislocated from the planet Earth. While travel between the two is possible it isn’t very common as the technological differences can cause problems, even if the kappa do their best to help “modernize” Gensokyo.

The Gap Youkai, Yukari, has been bringing people from the outside in since the beginning. She does this partially because it amuses her, but mostly because an outsider will stir up excitement for the residents of Gensokyo and keep people entertained and content with how things are. Her targets are usually those with an open mind or those that would benefit from living here, like you.

You were brought to Gensokyo at the age of ten and have lived here for eight years now. In that time you’ve made a lot of friends and connections, none more important to you than Yukari. She rescued you from a forest fire you inadvertently started and raised you for the next eight years and you even took to calling her “mom”, you think she liked that. On your eighteenth birthday she gave you enough money to buy a house in the human village.

The look on her face when you used the money to buy an old rundown bar on the edge of the village was priceless. You had to explain to her that you already had a plan to have it fixed up and that the left over money would go to building an additional room for you to sleep in. She has every right to be skeptical, but you plan on pr