You are Truthbreaker. You have some family issues.
You are almost sure that your mother, the self assigned "cruelest witch of the universe", loves you dearly, though her love involves far too much bodily harm for any person good. Having recently survived her latest genuine attempt to kill you by some struck of luck and a healthy amount of paranoia, you decided to abscond where she would be less inspired to demonstrate her very unique brand of love. As far as possible, and then some.
Your father, a celebrity in his own right, taught you everything you know about killing witches and saving damsels in distress, which has helped to endear you very much to your much loving mother. His relation with your mother, albeit genuine, is what any sane person would call "complicated". He tried to kill her the very first time they met, which is as far as you are concerned the proper reaction to her. Or maybe it was her who tried to kill him, the story was never very clear to you. This makes family reunion understandably difficult.
You decided to take holidays in Gensokyo, purely to piss your arch-nemesis, Yukari Yakumo, off. You’re not quite sure what step two of the plan is to be, but the first step was certainly a reward in itself. Seeing the purple hag pass through seven different layers of apoplexy before glaring at you is a memory you will cherish for years to come. After digesting the idea, the same way she would digest a particularly rancid helpless human baby, Yukari assured you that, for as long as you did not make any trouble, you were welcome in Gensokyo. You certainly commend her for saying that with a straight face. The thousand of years worth of experience in lying, cheating and baby eating probably helped.
You assured her you had no trouble in mind and she topped it by saying that she wasn't a vindicative woman. That last quip probably made all the magical lie detectors of the region explode through sheer metaphysical potency.
Now that you are getting there, though, you can’t help but have the nagging feeling that you should be polite. You can thank your mother’s – brutal - teachings for that advice: people rarely kill each other over tea, even when you would rather be drinking anything else, like dinosaur’s piss. She always were more amenable around a cup. Marginally.
Besides, politeness is the civilized thing to do.
What you know of Gensokyo could be written over a tiny piece of paper, and heavily tainted by the knowledge of Yukari’s involvement in its construction. The fact that it hasn’t imploded yet is another proof that life can thrive even when its mother is a bulbous, cancerous pustule blighting the surface of the earth. It is a humbling thought.
As you descend into the Eastern Wonderland, your gaze is attracted by:
[ ] A girl and her shrine. Introducing you to the land’s guardian is the proper thing to do, after all. (Hakurei Shrine) [ ] A girl and her other shrine. Gods are always a handful when you don’t salute them properly. (Moriya Shrine) [ ] Some strange distortion magic, doing funny things with distances. (Bamboo’s Forest) [ ] No, wait a minute, what is she doing in there? She’s isn’t supposed to be here! (Scarlet Devil Mansion) [ ] A gal you really like, for once. You haven't seen her in what, an eternity? (?) [ ] Another sight, one that should be interesting enough to make you forget introductions (Write-in)
[x] A girl and her shrine. Introducing you to the land’s guardian is the proper thing to do, after all. (Hakurei Shrine)
I want this quest. It speaks to me on a deep level, and I have no idea why. What is this?
Anyway, voting Hakurei because getting to know Reimu now could pay dividends when Truthbreaker inevitably dons the Incident hat. For instance, knowing whether she's genuinely friendly with Yukari, or if she finds the gap bitch as revolting as we do. Possible downsides include tea.
The mystery girl option intrigues me, but let's get our bearings in Gensokyo first. I'm sure we'll come across her sooner or later.
Gensokyo, you decide as you watch a cackling girl in a disparate dress dodge rainbow colored projectiles through non-euclidean dimensions, feels a lot like home. This is a quite surprising conclusion, and to be perfectly honest, you are almost enthralled by the amount of posturing, finger pointing and maniacal laughter being thrown around you, which goes well beyond the human average into borderline voyager-witch territory.
They even nailed the affront to every taste good straight, if the girl upside-down is any indication.
For once, you are sitting comfortably on the sidelines. It is a novel experience, as most people’s reactions to your continued existence lie comfortably into a gradient of ‘wanting to kill you’ and ‘fearing you will kill them’, with a surprisingly large proportion right in the center. This makes late Saturday nights quite lonely. Now that you think about it, when was the last time you were invited to a party that didn’t degenerate into a murder?
You took the hint of Lambda’s invites after the first massive ambuscade.
You summon a bag of pop-corn as a wave of nostalgia washes upon you, pondering absently if you are watching some sort of traditional dance or maybe some sort of ethnic cleansing. It isn’t really clear from where you are.
Your first plan had called for presenting yourself to the land’s guardian, proactively preventing any upcoming shady business from her Hagginess. After all, she were never one to let the other shoe undropped. You could say that Yukari had developed spite to an art form, if she weren’t so functionally unable to understand art. Or any positive endeavor, really.
What you did not account for was the inverted floating castle in the sky and the large amount of explosions trailing behind, where a pair of twins and a midget were trying their damnedest to maim the affront to good taste. Curiosity got the better of you, and you appeared on a nice parapet to watch the unfolding combat.
You have almost finished that first bag when your sense of justice, patiently instilled by a lifetime trying to become an inquisitor, start to tingle a little bit, but you aren’t your father: it isn’t healthy to crash into a fight when you don’t known the first thing about the various participants. For all you know, this is a perfectly normal sight in Gensokyo.
Your father would have smashed the castle, offended the Gensokyoan tribes, and be taken prisoners to be sacrificed to the local godling in a pompous ceremony. You always felt it is the fate of a son to learn from their parent’s mistakes, even when he is quite literally his parent’s mistake.
The primary reason of your inaction is not a fear, though, not a lack of basic information, but the fact that the upside-down defender has an object she should not have had by any mean. You could recognize Yukari’s parasol in your sleep, and actually had, as she frequently considers the sanctity of dreams as just another thing to be defiled. The number of people who could take it from her are counted in one hand and you are pretty sure the girl with the arrows on her skirt is not one of them. As she uses it to avoid the bullets of a white-red twin with a tanuki tail, you can only conclude that this is Grandma’s Yakumo plot, somehow.
You have a very firm philosophical stance on the completion, or lack thereof, of any schemes born from Yukari’s deceased mind. It is a question of principle.
This is a tricky situation, and the four girls have started to notice your presence. What should you do?
 Save the damsel in distress. You are not your father, but you are still an inquisitor… well, you would be, if not for them, anyway.  Talk and try to defuse the situation. Civilization and tea (urg) will save the day.  Offer your help to the three girls. That parasol reeks of some Yakumo’s plan.
Behind you is the biggest peak of Gensokyo, who is not burdened by an overabundance of them even in the most generous sense. An inverted pagoda stands proudly to your left, twisted architecture showing not even the most passing consideration for the helps who will need to clean it eventually. The sunny sky is littered by the passing trails of a thousand magical discharges going inside and outside of pearly clouds. All around you is forest, nature, water, stitched by only distant impressions of civilization, and four girls who look at you like you have suddenly grow a second head.
You discretely check. One can never be so sure with extraneous appendices. Fortunately, the four faces show no primal fears or deep-sated hate, only a difficulty objectionable kind of acute xenophobia. It is refreshing. You particularly like the look of the tail-deprived miko, who seems willing to murder you without making it too personal.
Professionalism is the linchpin of society and the marking of a honest soul in your book.
“Just who are… you!?” She sputters while spinning to avoid cute little colored arrows. Really, you would have preferred for the fight to stop, as target moving at Mach three are somewhat difficult to follow around.
You smile, steeling yourself for introduction, when the girl upside-down grinds to a halt in the front of a massive onslaught of projectiles. She pulls an ornate camera from somewhere on her person, Yukari's parasol firmly in the other hand. She takes a photo, and the projectiles simply disappear, as if they were never here.
It is certainly useful. Where can you get one of those?
She then points at you. "HAHAHAHA! THE BOURGEOISIE CAN SEND REINFORCEMENT, BUT THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE WON'T BE SILENCED! I AM AN IDEA! I AM THE PLEA OF THE WEAK! I! AM! THE VOICE! OF THE OPPRESSED!"
Your entire brain freeze for an entire second as you foolishly try to decipher the meaning behind that sentence. The sheer absurdity of your conclusion reaches your thick head, but can't pass through the layer of common sense you really should have learned to throw away around your arch-nemesis. No matter how you look at it, the reality of the situation is unmistakable.
Yukari is backing a communist revolution in her own realm.
It pains you to no end, but for once you feel like clapping. This is the work of a mad genius. So insane, it wraps around to the elegant. A true masterpiece of cunning. It is so beautiful in artfulness and chicanery, it boggles your mind to new absolute lows.
You are a hundred years old, more or less one thousand years depending on one's perspective on time, and you are awed that Grandma Yakumo can still manage to pull that kind of fast one on you.
You just stay there, for a moment undecided about what you should do. You don't know what choice to make, so you don't choose. It's just a matter of perspective.
You are Truthbreaker. You don’t feel like fighting.
You once heard that violence is the last refuge of the incompetent. You never quite adhered to it straight for reasons of personal history, and usually addended ‘or the clinically insane’ to the motto. The general idea remains a firm inspiration for you, however.
The miko looks strangely at your right as she strays to avoid bullets. “What are you doing?!” She shouts at nothing.
You weren’t doing anything particularly special, but you wager she wasn’t speaking to you. This is a strange and not a little concerning.
She blinks a bit and turns to look at you, her composure losing itself after each passing seconds. The wannabe Marxist decides that it is the perfect moment to attack and open a glaring gap into nothing by waving her parasol around. An absurd wave of arrows disgorges from a similar gap that spreads just in front of the Miko, clearly aiming to hurt.
You aren’t fast enough to do anything about it, but the midget-in-a-bowl is. “Reimu! Snap out of it!” She says as she literally throw the other girl out of the way. Her serious face and tiny little needle is as cute as preternaturally possible, but that punch had some serious weight behind it.
You frown. Your personal relationship with cuteness is one of distrust, distaste, and completely reasonable paranoia.
Reimu tries to answer, but she seems completely lost. “I… I...”
Which is really not the moment, because frilly Stalin seems livelier than she was in the beginning, if it was even possible. “HAHAHA!” She yells, spinning around upside down while the Tanuki miko launches a barrage of glowing… little animals? “FEEL THE MIGHT OF THE PEOOOOPLE!”
This farce needs to come to an end, and you decide to go loud. As loud as you can make it without erasing one or two dimensions.
The Purple Key resonates itself into existence, piercing the world with its core of mystery. Space itself appears to fold before its power, the empty colors of void deepening, time slowing, decelerating, as the underpinning of the universe struggles to process the entirety of the puzzle contained in it. The projectiles are the first to be slowed, by half at first, then a quarter, an eighth, before grinding to an almost halt. The girls are then slowed appropriately, taking from their momentum without affecting their mental time, to stop any idea of fistfight into the crib. In effect, a paralysis of sort.
You look at the glowing sword in your hand. You just broadcasted your position to everyone actually able to listen. Which, admittedly, should only be Yukari in this realm.
With a little luck.
What are the chances for another Witch to be there?
“Ladies.” You begin. And then stops, because you have absolutely no idea how to continue without sounding like a pretentious jerk. The next instant, you admit you simply don’t care. “I’m sure we can find a peaceful resolution to your issues. Nobody needs to be harmed.”
The universe proves once again its masterful sense of irony when the unneeded happens, as small explosions suddenly litter Reimu’s shirt, sending a copious amount of blood everywhere. The girl (very) slowly opens her mouth to scream.
Hu-hum. No projectiles have moved since since you stopped them. The explosions literally came from out of nowhere.
You are Truthbreaker. Sometimes, going in gun blazing is the best solution.
In your own, openly biased experience, very few problems cannot be solved by applying the right amount of firepower. The few that don’t, you found eventually, can also be solved by applying too much comparative firepower.
You instantly go into a flight to the right, entering the combat zone. The miko follows you around with the masterful practice of someone who regularly dodges flying gun ammunitions.
“What are you doing?!” She says, scowling at you.
You are here to help, of course, and answer in kind with your most winning smile. “I’m helping!”
Your most winning smile doesn’t seem to endear yourself to the girl very much and she gazes at empty space, momentarily confused. You briefly look around for the source of her disarray, but soon need to play the game, too, as Her Glorious Leader decides to test your mettle by ways of magic missiles. A lot of them. Is that number really necessary?
Beside, if you exclude the thousand of magical arrows, the parade of glowing animals dancing, the little white flakes strewn into the sky, and the distortions in space, there isn’t really anything much worthy of confusion.
You start a strange dance, avoiding upcoming projectiles and answering with blue lances in kind. Nothing too deadly or complicated. You are still not entirely sure who is right and who is wrong, and killing people willy-nilly is a good recipe for upcoming disasters. The best outcome is simple: harmless fun for everybody and your hand on that parasol to rub it into Yukari’s face in the most painful way possible.
The tailed miko drifts to your left, smile definitely more winning than any of yours, with an indescribable mischievous quality in itself. “Hello stranger! Not bad~~!” She says quickly, clearly having fun in the mayhem. ”Now we just need to corner her an-”
Both of your attentions are suddenly diverted below, where the red-white girl was suddenly thrown around by... nothing at all. You must admit that you didn’t see that coming. Neither is the People’s Republic of Bad Taste, as the girl almost stops in the middle an attack, bewildered.
She quickly regains her wit and launches another wave of projectile. The miko tries to move out of the way, but her movements are slowing down, and soon she is frozen in place in the path of a dozen arrows.
It’s kind of a good-new bad-new situation. The good new is, you learned something: you didn’t know that those arrows could explode. The bad new is that, knowing your luck, the girl is probably dying.
You really hope she‘s not someone important. You would never hear the end of Yukari if that’s the case.
You watch with dread as another wave of projectiles belt toward the immobilized miko. What do you do?