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Here's a rather short story whose magical evening is only a few choices long. Putting brevity aside, it'll hopefully still be fun. Follow your hearts and all will be well.


She’s late.

It’s a thought that’s annoyingly hard to dismiss. Logic threatens to reach some sort of conclusion from that fact. Specifically, it’s the sort conclusion that makes you weak in the knees. So you keep telling yourself that she’s just being fashionably late.

At least it’s somewhat comforting to know that you’re not the only one made to wait. A few individuals and small groups loiter in the reception area, making small talk and stealing the occasional furtive glance towards the door. This fellowship is usually short-lived, however, as most of those waiting are only there for a few minutes. Some run out of patience and ask to be seated, ushered beyond the separating curtain, leaving their companions to sheepishly ask after them at the reception when they arrive. Others choose to wait right there and greet their friends as they come in, going in as one happy group.

Though there’s still a few people waiting that arrived at around the same time as you, none have been there quite as long as you have. After checking in on your reservation, you had stood to one side of the room. That was about a half hour ago by your reckoning. A few minutes ago, you got an annoyingly sympathetic look from the one of the wait staff. Her eyes said everything that you had been working so hard to avoid thinking about. She saw someone well-dressed, with a reservation for two, waiting for his date and reached the natural conclusion…

But how could she know you were on a date? Well, it was the most popular restaurant in the village. During the day farmers and merchants showed up for hearty lunches but the atmosphere was completely different at night. With soft, live music and candlelight, it was a natural draw for couples and closely-knit groups of friends. The somewha
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The whole reason I stop writing stories isn't that I get bored with them, it's that there's no interest in them any longer. It gets too frustrating to wait for the non-response every update and I stop doing it because even my masochism has limits. There is nothing else that stops me from writing whatever. Since I generally have liked the concepts of all my stories, there's nothing I wouldn't pick up again if the demand existed. Demand doesn't exist, so here we are! I've never been a popular author and there's not many people who would care about those stories to begin with. Even ignoring that reality, good luck finding a bunch of people who would read and vote daily in the current community. You're up shit creek without a paddle there.

Listen, I could go make a polite and reasoned argument like I usually try but I'm not in the mood because we've been here before. Instead, here are your two options: vote or fuck off.

It'll soon be ten years that I've been doing this shit on this site. When people vote and are active I've written hundreds of thousands of words (if not millions), done daily updates and finished several stories. When people don't, I don't write. That simple. I'm not going to go away because I'm part of this community, like it or not, but I will focus my efforts only on the stories that do get attention. If you can't be bothered to do the bare minimum and vote: fuck right off!

You know what you get with me and I promise continuity and stability so long as you do the most basic thing and just vote regularly. I've found the people that bitch the most about this simple concept are the people who least regularly vote in or read stories. So either prove me wrong and do your bit or—you guessed it—fuck off somewhere else since I don't give a shit about the mewling of those who don't read and vote.

Don't even get me started on the "hurr durr irregular
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I'd love to see you writing, under a fake name a story of a genre you're not used to, with characters you don't know that well. And all of that accepting copy pasted votes

You'd probably go mad in a week, but maybe you could find that elusive success that way.
Aaaah man don't do this to me! I had troubles with internet and I had to stop coming for a while, and I come back to this.

I really liked this idea. Any chanches you'd really start up again? I have already voted for the last choice, by the way...

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Billy Herrington awoke with a start, a flash in his eyes, and a pain in his rectum. Looking around, there was a thick fog around him through which he could discern the shadows of trees. Suddenly he hears a rustling noise approach him.

Konichiwa! Gomenesai!
Is this Japan?
And you?
A little computer guy?

“No I am the strongest!” said the miniscule shadow in the corner of his eye. He turned about to see a small blue idiot. “Are you some sort of karate master? You know I’ve always to come to Japan because of my background in karate.”
“What’s karate are you lost mister?” inquired the blue idiot.
“When you lose your way it’s probably because of fairies.”

“I guess I’m the one at the wrong door this time.” He said reminiscing of his days with Van Darkholme. “Door?” Cirno said. Suddenly more rustling and a gust of air from behind. At this point a gushing beam of vehement life eliminated the blue idiot’s map for keeps. “Why did you did you go offscreen damn you?” It was a witch…. Billy thought. “Wait this isn’t Japan!” he cried out in ecstasy and dismay. “What’s japan?” said the witch. “The subject behind my studies!” Billy exclamated. The witch looked at him worriedly having not seen anyone more muscular than Rinnosuke before. “This is the land of illusion.” she said, “namely Gensokyo.” “Yeah yeah okay where’s the gym then?” “This isn’t pokemon you know.” Said an extremely thin man with a flowery hat and a large glass of beer in the sky. “So you’re the little computer guy!” said Billy “The little computer guy in the sky!” ZUN looked at him worriedly, also never having seen anyone more muscular than Rinnosuke, before disappearing into thin air. “I need your help!” said Billy. “If there’s no gym how do I keep my gains?” “You’re obviously not from here.” Marissa said. “I know someone who can help take you back.” “So you know a place where I can practice my karate skills?”
“Eh, well, just hop on my broom.”
“Okay!” exclaimed Billy excitedly, as he placed Marisa’s firm, long broom handle in
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This would have been the perfect shitpost for the contest.
aniki ;_;
Wrestle in Peace, Aniki. You were the original big guy for us.

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“Who’s Kisume?”

“You’re about to find out.”

All your mental alarms go off simultaneously, but you refrain from acting to avoid making a mess of the situation. You silently reach out with your senses, but all you get is the echoing gloom of the cave—


“...don’t ya fecking dare!” It’s faint, but you can hear Sekibanki slipping into her Irish accent from somewhere behind you.

“Seki?” You turn around to try to get a better head on her location, Yamame temporarily forgotten as you listen for—


Drop into a crouch and immediately feel something go flying past you, ruffling the hairs on the top of your head, and impacting on something with a painful-sounding “GAH!” from two voices.
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You're very welcome. If it helps keep your motivation I'd be more than happy to do more of these. Heck, I might even draw some of these myself. Keep being awesome, man.

I had a good base to go off of, so it was a team effort, really. Though, you might've made Wash's jaw a tad too much Ayy Lmao like.

I figured since Wash is Irish(?) that he wouldn't have black hair, so I made him brown-ish. I also researched what 19th century Irish(?) peasants used to wear but I really didn't have much to work with,t hen I said "fuck it" and went with the 2hu route of him having a primary (brown) and secondary colour (black). Brown being symbolic of him being the most down-to-earth out of the four, and black since he's blind (lul). If I had to choose a colour for his pants, I'd probably be the same brown as his necktie thing.

I used "Paint.net" for this. Though, I probably would be using SAI if I had a drawpad.
Well, I won't give up anything regarding Wash's nationality (yet) but I like the way you and original drawfag imagine him to look like!

And I can say with full confidence that I am, indeed motivated to work on Watch Your Step more. However, there's a lot of things happening IRL that keep me from working on it at the pace I did when I first started, so regretfully it may still take a while for me to come up with new updates.

Rest assured though that Thread 4 is coming soon. Most likely before the month is out.

Thank you (and all the people following this story) for being an awesome reader!
Thread 4 is up!


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I hunger. Radishes taste nice. Look, I have radishes in my arms. How nice. I wonder who put them there. Master wanted radishes…. Maybe she wants these radishes! I forgot where I am. Master says I need to try and think more. I’m thinking hard right now. I can’t remember where I am for the life of me. There’s a weird lady standing outside that wall over there. Maybe I could talk to her. Oh, I don’t know. I’m thinking but I can’t decide…
[] You could talk to the lady…
[] …or you could ignore her and look towards the lake.
[] Perhaps you want to make your own choice?
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[x] Creep inside and surprise them with a hug. I know, surprise hugs really do help sometimes.

Let's hope she doesn't turn into confetti and will have to be sewn back together
[x] Creep inside and surprise them with a hug. I know, surprise hugs really do help sometimes.
[X] Sing a song about radishes before entering the room.

Singing usually brightens up the mood.

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I awake with a start, jumping in my seat, eyes flying open.

Bright light sears my vision, my world a white blur. I instinctively screw my eyes shut, grimacing at the thought of exposing them again. A dull pain stomps its way across my forehead, prompting me to gnash my teeth. I reach up to massage it - ouch! My shoulders tighten at the pain and my heart pounds in response. Is that a bump? Slumping down in resignation, I take a moment to gather myself, focusing on slowing my breathing.

This sucks.

What feels like an eternity passes before I open my eyes again, this time bracing myself for round two of blinding light.

I slowly pry open my eyelids. Sterile fluorescent lights glare off immaculately polished rows of desks to either side of me. A lectern stands in front, a logo proudly emblazoned on rich mahogany sides. Behind it, a dull, gray chalkboard nearly as pristine as the desks next to me. Linoleum flooring squeaks as I shuffle around in my seat, hastily surveying my surroundings.

All in all, a very tidy classroom presents itself. I hear nothing except for the drone of the lights and my own ragged breathing. Unease starts to seep through my thoughts as questions spring from my hazy mind.

Did I fall asleep in class? What time is it?
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[x]Crimson and brooding.
Called! Writing.
ya still writing? -_-

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The simple straw doll stared eyelessly at me from where it had been tied to a tree with a length of coarse linen. Quickly but meticulously made, a certain sign I was still walking in the right direction. A black substance emerged slowly, delicately from between the straws, clinging to the wood and flowing gently upwards. Like incense smoke in still air, but of solid black, as if someone had plucked up a line of ink by one end and lifted it clear from the paper. It reacted as I approached, turning towards me as I gingerly placed my hand upon its host. It continued to move with the same ethereal smoothness as before, but now with the purpose I’d given it. With the push of a thought, it coiled around my fingers, spinning, up my wrist and arm, over my long sleeves, to finally slip into my chest like a dagger to the heart. I had gotten used to it, but seeing it move across my skin without even the scantest whisper of sound or feeling was still novel every time.
It all took less than a half-minute. I’d performed the entire ritual dozens of times this week alone. The doll was drained then, and all that was left to do was methodically cut the ties, take it down and scatter the now mundane straws in the wind. This latter part wasn’t strictly necessary, but there was no sense in leaving the doll here to spook random people.
Even being as slim as a silk string, to me the smoke-like substance coming from the next marker was clearly visible from just over the horizon, probably a good couple of hard hours away. I suppressed a sigh, folded my skirt beneath me and sat against the tree. Only a very short break, that’s all.
The sun was nearly fully down, although I could feasibly have travelled at night with the bright moon for a companion. I’d long abandoned what road there was – an overgrown dirt path that looked as though it had seen no men for months. I hadn’t seen another person at all for a full three days and change. This far from the rule of law, a path like that was as likely to lead into trouble as not. And anyway – I thought, fiddling with the string I’d just recovered – I had my own guide.

I leaned my head
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[X] Get up and do something productive instead.
[x] Sleep, damn it.
Cuddle the dork-child.
Nearly a year later, threadu two:

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[-h+2-] Press forward and find them. It's all she can do.


"Get… Get a hold of yourself, Rika." The girl continues to pant to before forcing a step forward. "Just… I have to find them. I have to… They'll be fine. Nothing happened to them. They took care of it and they'll… they'll be just fine…"

Eventually, Rika manages to look back up through the forest before beginning to skulk back through the trees. She continues to look back and forth, her hair whipping back and forth in its ruined state. There's nothing that she can see; there's nothing lingering but for the trees.

"…Where… where would they have gone? They couldn't have been taken. Marisa was better than that. Wasn't she? She was, wasn't she?" The question goes unanswered; she dearly hopes that she has the answer, but the weight at the bottom of her stomach continues to call her assurances into question. Though unable to cast those aside, he continues to amble along through the silent, still, stale forest. She continues to walk until, at last, she finds a mark of life.

Or, at least, the remains of it. The tree line is charred with the faint outline of a hole. Various other burn marks litter the ground, pock marking the dirt and turning over the sod. One tree has been toppled over with the trunk being savagely cracked by impact. Of the jagged shards that still stick up from the trunk, she sees stray, tattered feathers along with fresh blood caking the outer edges of the wood. The ground beneath it is disturbed, but there is no trail from which a body would have been dragged.

Rika gulps silently and look around, her eyes searching for more. She sees more pitted earth along with another tree that seems to be half uprooted. A rock is extruded from underneath, lifting it up and tilting it over. Near the roots of that tree, however, are two strips of familiar black cloth pinned into thin gashes within the wood. "…Marisa? You're sti
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Well. That is certainly a distraction. Now we just need to make good use off it.

[x] Check if there's a mind in the tower and use your power to find a good time to run. Hide around the corner of the way out while you do.
[x] Head to the treeline and skulk around to the ship. Hopefully the melting building is a good enough distraction.
Third option is suicide. Fourth option is a definite 'no.'

[X] Time to book it; make a beeline for the vessel. It’ll be hard to keep up with her in the commotion as it is.

>The stranger then turns her eyes to the camera.
I don't trust Junko not to have prey-seeking mechanisms or some bullshit. We have a distraction. Let's go.

Wonder if it's 'physical cold,' as in, Letty displaces the heat to cause combustion, thus cooling somewhere else - or 'conceptual cold,' in which she draws in the 'cold' from elsewhere; thus, heating everywhere else up. Doesn't matter either way, it's a Kappa BBQ nonetheless.

Once again, it's difficult to keep track of cardinal direction and the general map layout, given the space between updates.

>Limited cryokinesis doesn't sound terrible useful. Though 'limited' to kappa might still be significant if it's by a youkai's measure.
Neat. I was right.

>I don't see her exploding out like a blizzard and killing us
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Changing vote to...

[X] Time to book it; make a beeline for the vessel. It’ll be hard to keep up with her in the commotion as it is.

You know, if the building is melting, couldn't it, like... fall on us if we dally?

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You groan, a sharp pain throbbing in your head as you wake up. You probably shouldn't have gone on a bender like you did.

In fact, you probably shouldn't have gone on one at all. Last night, which was the your first bender, was coincidentally your first drink at all. You groan again, raising your hand to your head.

For a few seconds you think about how much smaller your hand feels, but then dismiss it. It must just be your imagination, or a remnant of the alcohol still being purged from your system.

The memories from last night are hazy, but with a bit of concentration they come back to you. Basically, you and your bros decided to go out for a drink, and you had let slip that you had never drunk actual liquor before.

Needless to say, you regretted it.

You remember pub crawling for quite a while, then finally settling down in this weird eastern-themed pub/hotel or something. The lady at the counter didn't look eastern - you think; still a little hazy. She was... Blonde? Something like that. She also had this weird, real ornate dress

Then, the next thing you remember is just before you were about to check in for the night, she said something a little weird.

"Have a good night's sleep, and don't forget; a dream is just a gateay to somewhere you haven't seen before~"
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[ ] The Eirindex mentioned a human village, right? You should go explore it.
[X] The Eirindex mentioned a human village, right? You should go explore it.
Alright, so I'm going to start working on this story again. I just need some more time to decide if one more vote is going to be needed, or if to write it with the current votes.

I do have to do Uni and am currently writing another story, though (I'm dropping the Dragon Maid one; that was a fad of the month thing that I wasn't really too satisfied with in the first place), so it might be a bit difficult for me to do regular updates. So please wait warmly~

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First Thread: >>191170

[m+1] What 'interests you' exactly?
-[m+1] She's human.
--[m+1] A sennin, whatever that is.


"My, didn't I just say~?"

"You evaded the question."

"Ohh~? Did I, now...?" She titters a bit.

You sigh. You're a bit bothered by how she's bothering you so much less than before. "Still, why are you, erm..." You blush a bit, remembering that this situation is a bit embarrassing.
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Next thread coming up, but first I have to finish up a chapter for the other site. Wasn't in the mood to not write, but still needed votes at the time.
Next update, we shall finally be hitting the third thread!
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You arrive at the location of the distress signal. There it is, the frigate Orpheon. It seems to have suffered damage recently, no doubt due to someone taking offense at the actions of the vessel’s latest crew. You bring your ship alongside to board the ship.

It doesn't take long for you to make your way inside the ship, and you are greeted with a rather gruesome sight as the airlock finishes cycling. In the room ahead lies a myriad of corpses. The most obvious one appears to be some massive insectoid creature, which seems to have punctured the hull. However, the internal atmosphere seems to have forced the remains back into the hole, sealing it. Further, there appears to be a number of pirate corpses. However, your theory is shattered when one raises its weapon and levels it at you. You put the wounded assailant out of your misery with a quick blast and proceed through the ship.

You make your way through the ship, and find a room filled with terminals, which you use to acquire a map of the ship. You also notice a number of files regarding the experiments the pirates have been performing. A quick skimming reveals that most of the creatures aboard the vessel are being used as test subjects for enhancement. You perform a quick scan for locations of interest on the ship, and notice an unusual energy signature in the reactor core.

As you enter the reactor room an alarm blares, prompting a massive insectoid to descend into the center of the room. You manage to make out the words “lockdown initiated” over the intercom before the bug unleashes a beam of energy, which narrowly misses you. A quick scan of the monstrosity reveals it to be a variant of one of the parasite samples, horribly mutated by the pirates. How the hell did they manage to give a bug lasers? You open fire on the abomination, only to be struck by the next beam. The impact throws you against the wall, draining your shields significantly. You collect yourself and ready your weapon, preparing to dodge the next blast. As you leap to the side, you launch a missile straight at the deformed head of the mutant, and follow this up with several blasts from your beam cannon. This only seems to anger the beast,
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I'll try to work on that. Thanks for the advice.

The pirates were all downed, and Rumia was still firing at her. Samus fired to attempt to subdue her assailant, and had no idea it was alive.

Leaving voting open for a bit longer, hoping for more votes.

The scene was just strange because we've been led to belive getting hit with a rocket kills the crab. To see Samus not even make an effort to communicate before shooting was a very powerful "what the fuck am I reading" moment.
After some thought, I've decided that I don't quite like how the last update turned out. I'm currently planning on rewriting it. If anyone has objections, let me know. Feel free to keep voting while I work on it.

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