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File 154125098321.jpg - (35.37KB, 600x450, Dark Room.jpg) [iqdb]
199505No. 199505
Vents, Door, or Window.

Either option will suck, but that’s al you’ve got in front of you at the moment.


[] Vents

[] Door

[] Window
Expand all images
>>No. 199510
[x] Door
>>No. 199522
[x] Door
>>No. 199523
[X] Vents

Less things we can't see
>>No. 199528
> I honestly have no idea how close we are to the autosage

Autosage is around 250 posts IIRC, so it was still another hundred-odd posts away.

[x] Door
>>No. 199536
Any way to check how many posts have been made on a thread? Could never really figure that out.
>>No. 199872
File 15424699212.jpg - (40.54KB, 1920x1200, Door.jpg) [iqdb]

Vents are tricky. Never know where the next dead end or fan will be. A door is predictable. Not exactly subtle, but predictable. You float over to said door and peer through the keyhole. It’s a limited view, but you can see the edges of wings and frilly skirt on a fairy standing just in front of the door.

Quick and quiet, just like before.

You charge up a laser, letting it build until it’s barely strong-enough to punch through the door without making too much of a sound and levitate to the fairy’s center of mass.

The splintering and pi-chun~ of the fairy getting hit by the laser are still loud, but a quick glance after floating through the new hole in the door, and you see nobody else reacting. You make a mental note to practice your control, though. The opposite wall as a small circle burned into the wallpaper from your attack.

You only hope the maids won’t be too pissed. They’ve cleaned up worse messes, after all. That much you’re sure.

The question now is where do you go. To the left is a stretch of hallway. Whatever lies beyond there you don’t know, but to the right you see a dead end. On that wall is one of the few windows you’ll see in this place. Most likely it’s only there because of it’s out-of-the-way location, and it’d certainly be a convenient shortcut for the maids flying to the garden outside.

No. that’s a stupid question. Your goal lies inside the house, after all. Gotta find him. Gotta find him.

Floating down the hall yield nothing but doors, however. You can’t just blast every single one open either, but the ones that are ajar you freely peek inside.

It goes about as one would expect from a dreary setting such as this. Clean bedrooms, glass cabinets, a tea room here and there.

Exceptions include an armory of medieval weapons (some of which you recognize), a room of torture devices (only few, thankfully, you recognize), and a veritable arsenal of firearms.

You’re about to leave the room when something glints in the sunlight pouring in through one of the few windows in the hall. A glint you recognize.

“What the fuck?”

Silver-inlaid but visibly worn. It’s a flintlock pistol of generic design, said silver most likely having been added to give it character by the owner, only identifiable by what was once a stylized letter, but the silver here and small shards of wood had chipped off in places and made it difficult to read. Still, it’s something you make a note to come back for later.

You’d like nothing more to take it now, however you’re still lacking in the bodily department for the time being. They can tell you what *that* gun in particular is doing in their armory.

You continue along the hallways until you see a door at the end.

It’s large and left ajar. A glance inside reveals a group of fairies engrossed in some conversation, and across from that is another door.

[] Blitz. Don’t let them react.

[] Sneak. Don’t let them know you’re there.

[] Leave. Maybe you can find another way.
>>No. 199896
[x] Sneak. Don’t let them know you’re there.

Sneaking through fairies should be not be hard
>>No. 200016
Just wanna let you guys know that if there's no other votes by the next month, I'll stick with the one above.
>>No. 200018
[X] Blitz. Don’t let them react.
>>No. 200024
[x] Blitz. Don’t let them react.
>>No. 200147
File 154502620815.jpg - (180.03KB, 850x1133, __sekibanki_touhou_drawn_by_miata_miata8674__sampl.jpg) [iqdb]
So just an update. It was midterms these past few weeks, but we're almost done and assuming I'm not dead in a ditch from caffeine overdose, the next update will be up soon!

In the meantime, have some Banki.
>>No. 200164
File 154543098497.jpg - (174.29KB, 850x1360, __hijiri_byakuren_and_mononobe_no_futo_touhou_draw.jpg) [iqdb]
First time voting on site, bear with me.
[X] Do nothing, that fairy in the corner is already starting a fire.
>>No. 200167
File 154558519833.gif - (2.53MB, 400x273, this image is purely for my amusement.gif) [iqdb]
It’s feckin’ fairies. You’re no pussy.

You [X]blitz right in, firing lasers and overcharged Danmaku. Don’t let them react, let the vastness of the room and the emptiness of the halls keep you undetected to everyone else. You’ve got something you need to do, after all.

The fairies, the first two, anyway, don’t put up much of the fight. They go down to your initial laser volley, leaving three more to deal with.

“Eeep!” they exclaim as a wave of basic danmaku forces you to weave around it.

The other two fairies fall to overcharged bullets straight to their heads, but the third one’s either smarter than her comrades, or much more cowardly. She dashes down the halls and out of your range before you can shoot her down.

“Damn it!” you hiss as you give chase.

The fairy makes it as far as throwing the doors on the other side of the room open, but this confines her in a long, straight hall.

All it takes is one well-aimed laser, and—


No witnesses.

Lots of scorch marks on the walls, but those aren’t your own. They’ll have that cleaned in no time.

Back to your search.

...Empty room.

...locked room.

...Interior marshmallow pit on steroids.

“Who’s been firing Danmaku?! Sakuya’s going to— Dammit! Not again!” somebody shouts in the distance.

They’re coming for the burning room, you realize, and you’re long past the empty room. Everything else is closed and locked. Luckily, there’s a convenient open window that you float out of—

“How many times do I have to say this?! No marshmallow fires inside the—”

Ah. The Gatekeeper’s using it to climb in.

This is gonna h—


The package in your hand is a small one. Small in a sense that it only takes up the one arm that you tuck it under as opposed to the usual haul which necessitates a cart to be tied to a horse. This one’s different, though. It’s valuable, but not as much as an item to sell than something you’d rather keep.

It’s this and a salvaged lantern in your hand that leaves you more tired than you ought to be, but that’s nothing compared to the frustration and promise of suffering reserved for the dead man back at the town when you return.

“No older than six, he said. Can run from here to Boston, no problem he said. Fucking asshole!”

Your scratches look more like scrapes of a quill that ran it’s ink in the dim light of your lantern, and the trees along the path like an old oil painting than being in front of you. Firelight does that, you suppose. Warps what you see and stokes the flames of your paranoia.

It is worsened by the fact that you are alone. The horse is dead, broken from when you were, and still are, racing against your pocketwatch. The air is heavy, but the flame makes it humid because the heat and moisture are a punch than the slap of dry heat.

Worse still is that you’re a long way from the village and with no change of clothes. Your coat’s already been ruined by the fall, and all you’ve left is a shirt. You’re missing a boot.

“Fucking—Argh!” you hiss as a pebble embed itself into your bare sole. Not deep enough to cut, but the small fragment of rock is there, stuck in the dent it formed on you.

What you wouldn’t give for more calluses there. You lose boots often, you find.

A quick sigh is all you can afford as you toss the pebble away and continue your journey. Father gets quite cross when things don’t go his way.

And as everyone knows, when he’s cross, he’s quite the douche.

The night isn’t kind, however. Between the exhaustion from the horse and the heat from the lantern, your mind is playing tricks, you think. Shapes dart out the corner of your vision and whispers come from the leaves. All things considered, the former is more likely to be real.


...or not.

It’s not so much a question of should you help or not than the shreds of decency in you urging you to investigate. You’ve always been too invested in helping people out. It’s not something you’re always fond of doing.

That hesitation disappears, however, when you see two young girls about to be set upon by a man with a stake. One of them is face-down with a small puddle forming near her head and the other trembles violently. All thoughts of your task discarded, the box is dropped and the man is tackled before he can bring the stake down.

He scrambles away before you can do anything else, escaping you with a backhand to your face as he scrambles for the dropped stake.

You lunge after him, thinking he’s going for the girls again, but instead gasp as something *sharp* stabs at you. You dodge only a scratch along your collar, but the motion throws you off balance and you’re pinned before you know it.

“You…” the man growls. “You’d throw your lot in with them?!”

He’s… enraged. At the young girls. It’s clouding his judgement, you think as he slams the stake towards your heart. You catch his wrist, pushing with all your desperation because tonight is NOT a night you’d like to get impaled on!

You’re tired, though. So very tired, and it’s only the conscious girl’s desperate cries of “w-we didn’t do it!” and her calling out for her “sis” that keeps you resisting.

“Notourfaultnotmenothernotsis!” the girl cries before looking up to you with tear-stained eyes, then to your attacker.

“Leave… us… ALONE!”


You don’t know or care what exactly happened, but you do know the pressure on the stake is gone and you push it away and deliver a swift punch to the man’s side. He’s winded, but standing still. No longer looking at you, but at the girl, who is now a quivering mess.

The package has fallen open.


The man lunges, stake raised.

The girl cries.

Her sister twitches.


Your hand trembles and you thank God your uncle was the paranoid sort who always kept his pistols loaded.

Shaking now, you push yourself up only for your legs to give out when you see that you’ve shot the attacker in the head It’s not pretty, and your hastily-eaten dinner nearly forces it’s way out of you, if not for the gut-wrenching feeling that forces you to swallow at the sight of the girl, wide-eyed and staring. Just, staring.

“O-Oh,” you manage. “Oh God.”

A drop.

The drizzle begins as you drop the pistol and cautiously approach the girl.

The rain picks up.

The sister twitches.

You meet the young one’s horrified gaze

Blood-red eyes stare up at y


You awake with a throbbing sensation in your head, unable to remember what happened after that. You stand up and dust yourself off—

“So that’s what happened.”

You startle at the childlike voice coming from beside you, causing you to stumble until, in your blind flailing, you catch yourself on what feels like a wooden dresser.

“Where am I?”

“...So you’re awake.”

“Awake?” you say, “ Awake. Why would I not be awake?”

You hear the rustle of fabric, followed by light footsteps.

“Viewing memories as always been a problematic art,” a tired-sounding voice explains. “More so when several mental blocks must be bypassed. More often than not, the result is either further mental trauma or loss of sanity.”

You’re disarmed and disoriented still, it’s all you can do to pin down any scathing remarks or further accusations building up in the back of your throat. Not liking where this is going, you force yourself to swallow the words and let her continue.

“—only the satori can see these mental blocks, but even then they must coax it out of the person, as they can not interfere directly with the mind. I suppose that’s why you’ve not any of the usual side-effects. You’re rather lucky.”

Finally, the footsteps cease right in front of you.

“Forgive me for my intrusion,” she says. “My name is Patchouli Knowledge, and you have something of great interest to a good friend of mine.”


The room is dusty, you notice. It irritates your skin and makes you wheeze, but it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe at all.

The room is also quiet, save for the the quiet sniffles of the little girl inside.

How you got inside is something you feel you’ll find out later.

Of course, given your past experiences, you’re wary to approach the girl.

“Remi thinks I’m gonna break you.”

Clearly, your paranoia is well-founded.

“Break me,” you say.

“Pi-chun~ like everyone else.” She pauses as more sniffles escape her. “S’really messy.”

“Then why didn’t you?” you carefully ask. “Break me, I mean?”


The sheer intensity of the voice forces you back and rings in your ears.

“You… You don’t remember, do you?”


“That Night. That night.”


“I was so scared…”

Scared of what?! That man? You?!

“Remi couldn’t help me!”

She was knocked-out, wasn’t she?

“...and I thought you wouldn’t too.”

A flood of memories flashes through you, most prominently the night in the woods. Dark. Hot. Humid. The clink of chains and the odor of rusted meat hooks.

No, no, there were no meat hooks. There was only the girl and her sister. Those two, and a corpse.

Your eyes itch as you look upon her in the dull brown dress and discarded boot.

The clinking continues as she turns to face you, eyes wide and fearful.

“I thought you’d kill her.”

Was it you, then, Little one? Were you the one responsible for the rush of black that night?

“But I know better now.”

Can you fill the void, please? What happened after the gunshot?

“But I know better now.”

The calm-yet-melancholy tone does not match her fearful eyes at all. The clinking gets closer and closer as the little girl approaches you, as though bound with loose chains.

“What do you know?” You whisper to yourself.

“I know that bad things happen, things that even Remi can’t change.”

She stops in front of you, but she stares at you with renewed horror, sounding so perfectly content that it doesn’t make any goddamn sense.

Did you do this? Was she afraid of you, who had splattered another man’s brain that not stains her dress?

“I know that we don’t always know what really happened, and we do stupid things because we don’t know any better.

Stupid things… is that what you’ve been doing while blindly stumbling for the contents of your head?

Things you don’t know… how long has it been? How long has this girl been living with uncertainty? How long did she believe that everyone was out to get her because you didn’t say anything? Didn’t offer reassurance?

“I couldn’t do anything then like I can now. So many good things happened because we made it this far.”

Patchouli comes to mind, her words before taking you to the room. You’d asked her what it is she saw. “Not the same as you,” she’d said.

No, your actions were clear that night you saw. If you had wanted them dead you would’ve done nothing. Why then?

Why do you still feel so damn guilty!?

“What do you know,” you say, louder this time.



“...I know I owe you a lot. I know what you think you want to know, but it’s already there, isn’t it?”


“I… Patchy said I can’t tell you. I can’t show you. You’ll be like I was. Alone. It wasn’t fun.”

You… are getting tired of all the cryptic bullshit.

“But!” she exclaims as the clinking suddenly renews itself with s vigor, and a light weight crashes against you. Small arms wrap themselves around you. “I can still thank you.”

You… feel warm. It’s slow, but you feel light. Lighter, at least, and the ache in your eyes trickles into nothingness. Unconsciously, your hand lowers itself onto her head of messy hair, but you don’t feel the hair. The cloth. A mob cap.

Your other hand, reciprocating the hug, brushes against something. Stiff, protruding from a hole in her red shirt. A crystal, bright like the others hanging beside it, glints in the candlelight. For the fleetest of moments, you see her. Blonde hair in a side ponytail, red shirt and skirt, the black growths with the crystals (wings, you realize), and her teary-eyed smile, fangs poking out.

“And… we’re sorry about your friend. We were too late to stop him.”

Just before your vision fades, you see him. Devoid of glasses and roughed up, standing at the gallows. That’s all you see before he flashes the biggest smile as the first shot of the night rings out.


What do you wake up to? (Write-In whatever you guys feel would be interesting. Merry Christmas!)
>>No. 200174
If nobody wants to offer any write-ups, I’ll just post the usual choices.

That cool with you guys?
>>No. 200176
Yeah, that'd be nice. "What do you wake up to" is a little too open ended for me.
>>No. 200180
>>No. 200181
You... are getting really, really, REALLY tired of waking up to different things. Hell, you can barely remember when was the last time you’ve woken up feeling nothing but the bed beneath you and the morning sun on your face.

Well, in the bright side...

[] You can feel the sun, but no bed.
[] You can feel the bed, but no sun.
>>No. 200182
[X] You can feel the sun, but no bed.
>>No. 200183
[X] You can feel the sun, but no bed.

I'm no good with write-ins, I always vote one of the presented options.
>>No. 200239
[X]You can feel the sun, but no bed.

Which is strange because when you open your eyes, you can’t really see if the girl is there or—

Hang on.

Where you last night?


Well, the sun is a pleasant feeling at the least after getting your head pounded into the wall by the gatekeeper-slash-gardener. You’ll feel it when you go to bed later, but for now you’ve got a gatekeeper to deal with.

“Hrgggk! Aggghhhh!”

Rather, your body does.

“Ch-Chokehold is illegal!”

“Yep, well, you can file a complaint,” you say as the gatekeeper’s consciousness finally fades and your body is able to let her slump down to the ground.

You reach out, but stop yourself with a pointed glare.

“And where the hell have you been?!” you ask yourself.

You gesture wildly, beginning with a shrug, then an overhead swinging motion that ends with your fist pointed as though pointing with a stick, followed by fake heaves and a hand held to where you mouth would be to mime coughing. Voile, you think.

Then you place a hand over where your eyes would be and stumble in place with another hand held out, pretending to bump into a wall.

“No, I haven’t seen Wash. Why?” you ask

You raise your hands in a placating gesture, motion to yourself, then you, then you raise your hand up to where your eyes would be as though looking out into the distance.

You sigh. “Next time, we’re gonna work on our homing instincts.”

You sag a little at that before you lower yourself onto your neck stump, wrapping the loose bandages around it to keep your head in place before climbing back through the hole in the wall and continuing your search.

People (and by people you mean youkai) would often question why you’d bother to secure your head to your body like that when, as a Dullahan-Rokurokubi-Nukekubi-thing you’d have no need. Well one, these Youkai aren’t the ones living in the village, so they don’t need to hide their inhuman traits constantly to avoid discrimination. Two, it’s a right pain in the ass to have to align your head every time you eat or drink to make sure nothing spills out. Three…


You’ve got more magic to work with for your Danmaku.

The first fairy bursts into flame, and unlike earlier, dealing with the others that came with it is not so difficult as you don’t have to do much to overcharge your danmaku. Hell, it’s almost pitifully easy, even for someone like you who’s only got Stage 2 certification.

“Alright. Library, then.”

That’s where you last remember Wash being. Not really seeing him, but rather hearing him demand answers from somewhere. Then when you got pinned by Meiling, you’d recovered enough to break your bonds and go after her.

Let it be left unsaid how many wrong turns you’d taken before succeeding, however.

Yes, that nobody has to know is what you think to yourself before you reach a very important conclusion.

You’ve no idea where the fuck you are.

You slow your pace, suddenly aware of just how *dark* it is in the mansion as you glide down the hall towards the next turn. The walls lack windows, or proper ones at least. Insead you occasionally see what looks like a frame with the drapes drawn, but that’s all there is. A frame and drapes.

You’d comment on it until your cape swishes and you’re reminded of the scarf you saw on the merchant’s shelf once upon a time and you decide you’d rather not be the kettle.

“Can’t we just have a regular outing next time,” you mutter as you throw open a set of doors. “Regular outing, no fucking interruptions!”

“...you’re one to talk.”


[] Attack

[] Evade

[] “...Hi?”
>>No. 200240
[x] “...Hi?"

oh boy it's back!
>>No. 200241
[X] Evade
>>No. 200243
[X] “...Hi?”

Might as well try to negotiate before the inevitable shenanigans ensue.
>>No. 200248
[X] Evade

Also, not gonna lie, the way perspective keeps hopping around has gotten pretty confusing, especially now that we're swapping between past and present selves (inb4 2hustuck) with this whole memory recovery thing... and I'm not sure that I'm the only one.

>The calm-yet-melancholy tone does not match her fearful eyes at all
>she stares at you with renewed horror

I'm assuming some of it is fragments of memories resurfacing (e.g. the gallows bit), but these make it hard to tell what's real and what's history. Maybe that's intentional, though, idk.
>>No. 200290
File 155132224441.jpg - (238.52KB, 850x1155, __izayoi_sakuya_touhou_drawn_by_jan_lightdragoon__.jpg) [iqdb]
So just so whoever's still reading knows, I just finished finals. Yes, it took that long because our bitch Cinematography professor screwed us all over and jeopardized final projects for the other classes as well, which necessitated more cramming and bullshit in two 5-page papers than this entire story combined.

On the bright side, I'm done now! On with the show!



That’s the head maid!

What the hell is the head maid doing here?!

“I was informed that our dear gatekeeper has been found unconcious,” says Sakuya Izayoi, as she twirled a small knife in her fingers, leaning against the wall and with a worn-out feather duster in her hand. “Imagine my reaction when I find the same wall I’d barely finished cleaning and refurbishing from Marisa’s latest break-in had been… Demolished.”

She’s throwing the knife up now, spinning it and catching it by the blade as it fell. A drop of cold sweat slides down your brow.

“Now imagine what manner of thought must have gone through my head upon learning that your companion has a rather… Unpleasant history with milady.”

She catches the knife.

Fuck it, you’re—


...not going anywhere because now she’s slammed the door shut and is leaning against it. SO much for evasion.

“Have you anything you’d like to say?” you hear a clock tick by and for the first time in a long time you feel fear.

Fear because for all your pent-up fury, all the magic your Dullahan blood gives you, you’ve very aware of the fact that in an instant, you’ll be nothing more than the head maid’s newest pincushion.

Thusly pressured, you say the first thing that comes to mind.




Or not?!

Ah, no, wait. A knife just clipped a strand of your hair.

“Let me make myself clear,” Sakuya says, suddenly behind you!

“My mistress ordered you and your friend, him in particular, to be disposed of.”

You whirl around, but she’s gone.

“This is an order I would gladly see to; it wouldn’t be the first time,” she says from beside you.

“However, the young lady has asked me to spare him, for whatever reason.”

The young lady? The crazy little sister?!

“Where is he,” you growl, but the effect is diminished by your panicked expression as you try to get a bead on the elusive maid.

“Calm yourself,” she says. You tense as a hand is laid on your shoulder at the same time. “I can take you to him, but for both of your sakes you cannot draw any more attention to yourselves.”

And just like that, everything is dark.

“What the fu—mmph!”

“Language,” Sakuya says as you spit out the soap that’s been shoved into your mouth. “The young lady may not be innocent, but I won’t have her picking up any more bad habits.

You turn to glare at her, mouth shut because you’d rather not get knifed before you can even do anything about it. Hell, the maid’s act is still highly-suspicious to you. You’ve never really seen the residents of the mansion outside of the occasional party at the Hakurei Shrine you’d attend. You’ve heard the rumors, though. Sometimes seen the evidence when you and Kagerou would pass by to visit Hime.

“Lady Flandre?” Sakuya says as she gently opens the wooden doors before her. Nobody replies, but you’re beckoned to approach. You do so warily, sending a copy of your head, Curiosity, to her. It’s only after Curiosity nods and disappears back into you that you approach, Sakuya raising a brow at the action.

As seen through your other pair of eyes, the younger vampire lies asleep on the bed. It’s a strangely cute scene, actually. She’s sleeping peacefully, surrounded by stuffed toys that have been patched up several times.

Oh, and she’s cuddling Wash’s hand.

“Shhh,” he says, not quite facing you but your general direction. He looks, different, you note. Every since you could remember, he’s always had that same troubled look on his face, but here and now with the younger Scarlet holding his hand, his expression is that of calmness. Not the happy kind, but the kind of calm where you don’t need to smile to express it, it would just ruin the atmosphere anyway.

You hold back the urge to rush over there and check on him as Sakuya approaches. Wash turns slightly to face the footsteps approaching him, not doing anything as Sakuya gently pries his hand from Flandre and replaces it with a stuffed bear from the other side of the bed.

“My mistress has ordered me to dispose of you,” she says to your irritation and his surprising calm, “and has left the manner of which to my discretion.”

Next thing you know, either of you, you’re somewhere bright. The air’s no longer dusty and you recognize the wrought iron gates of the mansion. The gatekeeper is nowhere in sight, to which you feel the slightest pangs of pride at your victory (some would call it a cheap one, but fuck them).

“What on earth?” Wash says, confused about the sudden change in environment.

“I will only say this once,” Sakuya says. “Leave.”

You eye her warily, not quite sure if she’s being serious. Wash takes the decision out of your hands, however, and grabs one.

“Let’s just go,” he says.

You sigh, and allows him to tug you away against your better judgement since this means you take your eyes off the maid for the barest moments, but after not immediately getting knifed in the back, you pick up your pace and pull ahead to start leading Wash home.

As you walk, his grip tightens and you can hear the faintest whisper from somewhere, but just like that it relaxes again and nobody's there when you look back.


The first thing you do when you get back home is send your body to collapse on the bed, leaving you with Wash. The walk back was… Well, to be blunt it was very awkward since none of you talked. The sort of awkward silence that you’d try to avoid by inserting conversation. That’s what happened.

But now? Now you’re home. You’re safe. He’s safe.

And you’ve got booze, so if things get worse then there’s that.

“I saved them, apparently,” he says just as you open your mouth to ask him something.

“Saved them,” you say. “You. Save the Scarlet sisters. Who are both capable of causing large-scale incidents.”

“Ah, dunno much about the incidents, I admit,” he says as he seats himself at the table. You follow his lead and lower yourself to rest in front of him. “It was a long time ago, I think. Memory’s still hazy, but that’s what I gather.”

“Then why does Remilia hate you?” She had ordered him to be “disposed of”, after all.

He shrugs, and the room falls into silence again.

“It was nice,” he eventually mumbles.


“Confusing, it was confusing at first, seeing everything like that, like a stage play about my life except everything was so detailed! The memory, I mean. The one they drew out of me.”

So she had Patchouli take a peek into his brain. That’s not ominous, not at all.

“And then things got bad. Really bad,” he admits, thinking about the events of the memory. “But she was there, at the end. The younger sister?”

“I noticed.”

“And it felt… Not good, not necessarily, but for the first time as far as I can remember I felt content.”

You raise a brow in confusion. Wash being Wash, he probably picked up on this. “Sorry, that’s the best I can describe it. That feeling you get, the pleasant one when someone thanks you for taking the time to help them, but a little more.”

Huh. Well how about that. That’s probably one of the most genuine smiles you’ve seen on him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel disappointed that it didn’t come up from your time with him and instead from the younger vampire loli.

“You seem happier now, like a weight’s gone,” you settle on. “It shows.”

The smile fades, however. It’s still there, but less happy now. He’s been getting better at pinpointing people from their voice, because he’s almost looking right at you when he zeroes in on you and gets his hand on your head on the first try.

You groan in protest, but don’t shake it off.

“I suppose I am now.” The smile turns sad. “Sorry for being like this, Seki.”

Sorry for being a burden, he means to say.

“Bullshit,” you say, levitating up and closer to his face. “I don’t bother with people I don’t like, but you’re here anyway. Means you’re doing something right, I guess.”

Wash lets out a low chuckle as you float back down to your resting place.

“God,” he says, “I need to apologize.”

“I already said—”

“No, no! To Kurumi, I mean!”

Ah, right. He tried to cut her open the other night.

And how long was his staff actually a fucking sword?!

“I thought you have bad memories with vampires,” you carefully say.

Wash doesn’t reply immediately. “I did,” he eventually says, “But I have bad memories of a lot of things, it seems. Something was missing, and that was the only thing I had to go on then.”

“...so you’re saying that before, that was the only thing you remembered, so it looked really bad. Now that other things came up you realize it only looked bad since the others weren’t there to be worse?”

“No, I’m saying that I remembered something wrong. Not all the pieces were there.”

Huh. And here you were thinking that Satori would’ve been helpful for him to remember things.

“Well, the mind’s a fickle thing,” he muses. “All she does is help me draw it out, knows the words to say to get my mind to react. Not a lot of choice about what comes out or how I initially interpret it.”

“You’re getting way too good at reading me when I’m not speaking,” you jest. “Stop it, that’s supposed to be my thing!”

Again, he laughs. “I suppose that says something, then.”

You let out a small chuckle of your own.

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

...can Wash tell that you’re smiling?


[] This carpet feels surprisingly nice

[] These sunflower seeds taste good
>>No. 200291
[x] These sunflower seeds taste good

om nom nom
>>No. 200292
[x] These sunflower seeds taste good

They do!
>>No. 200293
[x] These sunflower seeds taste good.
>>No. 200294
[X] This carpet feels surprisingly nice
>>No. 200295
[X]These sunflower seeds taste good!

“From my personal stock,” Yuuka says. “The Child of Miare is quite fond of these.”

And you can definitely taste the difference! You almost don’t notice all the fearful looks the older people in the village send Yuuka’s way.

“Enjoy this sample while you can,” she says to you. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t normally be able to afford these.”

The impact of your glare is somewhat mitigated by you popping another seed into your mouth. Jeez, no wonder Wash loves this stuff!

“‘Tis merely a statement of fact.”

“I never said anything,” you say, hands up in a placating manner. “Speaking of, I was meaning to ask you if Kurumi’s still home.”

“I’m afraid not,” says Yuuka as she examines a flower display on the front of a shop. “The days have been getting longer and hotter. Were she not more on the bat end of the vampire spectrum then a simple parasol would have done her well.”

“Well, damn.”

“You wish for her and Wash to meet?”

You nod as the two of you enter the shop. The owner, one of few people who aren’t scared of Yuuka, greets her.

“Yes, I’d heard of what happened. I was quite surprised to hear of Wash lashing out like that. I trust he has his emotions under control for you to seek out Kurumi?”

“I think?”

Yuuka regards you flatly.

“Most likely?”

Same expression.

“Okay, fine, I’m not sure. But there’s no other way to find out if he’s got his head sorted cause I’m pretty sure we’d both get knifed the moment we get somewhat close to the other Vampire’s mansion.”

“And you’d expect me to allow the possibility of my gatekeeper being injured in the process?”

“And you’d expect me to believe that you haven’t done worse on bad mornings?”

“A fair point,” she says as she hands some money over to the owner in exchange for a packet of seeds. “I suppose a slash wound will be easier to walk off than dismemberment…”

You sincerely hope that she’s joking.

“Very well, I shall inform her that Wash wishes to meet her.” With that, Yuuka takes off into the sky the moment she leaves the flower shop, leaving you to your own devices.

You’ve got the rest of the day and a small amount of spending money. You might as well…

[] Find Wash before the kids murder him

[] Find some work before you murder your savings

[] Find place to kill some time.
>>No. 200296
[x] Find some work before you murder your savings
time for boring fiscal responsibility
>>No. 200297
[x] Find some work before you murder your savings

gib dosh
>>No. 200298
[X] Find some work before you murder your savings

Capitalism, ho!
>>No. 200299
>[x] Find some work before you murder your savings

Even Reimu works sometimes.
>>No. 200300
Well, looks like it’s time to [X]find some work before you murder your savings.

Let it not be said that you’re a bum for not having a stable line of work, but as a Youkai who haunts the Canal of Willows, you have a steady source of sustenance coming from villagers spreading the story of the floating heads under the willows. It’s not as steady as it was back when you became a Dullahan, but it means that you eat less than a human would, meaning less money goes to groceries or other essentials. Point being you can get by perfectly well on your own.

Wash, on the other hand, still needs to eat. Hell if your recent adventures are anything to go by, you’d do well to invest in expanding your medicine cabinet and alcohol stash.

You head in the direction of the Dragon Statue, where a bulletin board is set up with a bunch of notices tacked on, from announcements to even that tengu’s tabloid newspaper, and even a few wanted posters. Job notices are tacked on to the side, from here you usually pick something that pays well for something you can discreetly speed up with clever use of your floating heads.

You look at the list.


[] Mushroom Gathering

[] Minor Youkai Extermination

[] Look at the Wanted posters
>>No. 200301
>Youkai hunting

Tempting, but let's not betray our race yet.

>Mushroom gathering

She won't pay.

[x] Look at the Wanted posters

Let's see whose mug is on the wall.
>>No. 200303
[x] Look at the Wanted posters
>>No. 200306
Not being in the mood to hunt down the feral or trouble-making youkai, you briefly contemplate taking the mushroom gathering job until you remember just where exactly the best mushrooms in Gensokyo can be found, and you’re not sure how well a certain someone would react to a youkai going through her favorite foraging grounds (especially you after what happened in the shop).

In other words, you look at the wanted posters.

[] WANTED: Tajomaru (Robbery, Suspected Murder, Rape)

[] WANTED: “Sage” (Treason, Civil Disobedience)

[] WANTED: Chisaki (Loitering)
>>No. 200307
File 15533631444.jpg - (404.41KB, 683x1024, depositphotos_150234784-stock-illustration-wild-we.jpg) [iqdb]
Not being in the mood to hunt down the feral or trouble-making youkai, you briefly contemplate taking the mushroom gathering job until you remember just where exactly the best mushrooms in Gensokyo can be found. You remember vaguely that Marisa has a reputation at the village, otherwise someone would’ve contracted her to do it instead, and you’re not sure how well she’d react to a youkai going through her favorite foraging grounds.

In other words, you look at the wanted posters.

[] WANTED: Tajomaru (Robbery, Suspected Murder, Rape)

[] WANTED: “Sage” (Treason, Civil Disobedience)

[] WANTED: Chisaki (Loitering)
>>No. 200308
[x] WANTED: “Sage” (Treason, Civil Disobedience)

don't know who this is, but they sound interesting
>>No. 200309
[x] WANTED: Chisaki (Loitering)
>>No. 200310
[X] WANTED: “Sage” (Treason, Civil Disobedience)

Sounds interesting.
>>No. 200311
[X] WANTED: Tajomaru (Robbery, Suspected Murder, Rape)

I doubt anyone would complain should we use lethal force by mistake
>>No. 200312
You pick out one wanted poster in particular that looks like it’s been there for quite some time, and for good reason.

[X]WANTED: “Sage” (Treason, Civil Disobedience)

Civil Disobedience by itself isn’t much to pay attention to since Kotohime is particularly fond of handing out those penalties, but the treason… You’d need the seal of the local council to get that sort of offense branded to you.

You pluck the poster, taking a moment to examine the vague, hooded figure drawn on the paper before tucking it into one of your pockets.

One thing’s for sure, though. You’re gonna have to go off the grid to find this one. There’s only a few places outside the village where a person like this could hide, and luckily for you, you’ve got a good way of scouting out all of them once night comes.

It’s just a matter of waiting…


You sit, shrouded in the darkness of your usual haunt in the Canal of Willows as you process visual feedback from multiple heads stalking the edge of the Forest of Magic, Youkai Mountain and the Hakurei Shrine. You go through a clearing in the trees away from hostile youkai territory and at the same time investigate the foot of the shrine just far-enough for Reimu to not care.

Detaching yourself is always an experience. Curiosity leaves you compensating by constantly reminding yourself to be thorough. Persistent absence only compensated by a discipline that keeps you searching. Paranoia, however, if normally something you’d gladly shove in another head.

Of course, that just means you don’t notice something wrong until Paranoia comes back full-force and the feed is cut-off.

You open your eyes as your other components dispel and return to you, curiosity over what happened to Paranoia and Persistence driving you to finish that particular investigation.

The street lamps in the area have been snuffed out, and it is the dead of night. The village guard are too busy patrolling the perimeter to pay attention to the darkest area of the mostly-empty canal. You take flight without any worry of being spotted and make your way towards the ranges a little further from Youkai Mountain.

“But why there?” you mutter as you remember where exactly Paranoia was forcibly dispelled.

It’s vague. More intense components can be harder to connect with when they’re not coming back to you and Paranoia’s, well, paranoia was at an all-time high as you floated around the northern cliffs. You’d lost control, wandered farther than you’d intended past the dead zone away from the Tengu patrol routes and the Moriya Shrine into an area most humans wouldn’t dare consider going.

It’s a good thing you’re wearing long sleeves because one of the reasons is that the northern mountains are FUCKING cold.

“Feckin’ Whiterock,” you mutter as you spot the lonely form of the Yuki-Onna flying freely around one of the peaks, a small blizzard forming in her wake and snow falling wildly as plants disappear and a fine layer of white begins to cover the bare earth beneath you.

You slow your flight and draw your coak closer to yourself, awaiting the heat the inevitable rush of combat will bring.

In the distance, you see a winding path. That’s where you decide to set down and begin walking while admiring the breathtaking view, which is FUCKING gorgeous.

Let it not be said that you’re unable to appreciate the beauty of the world because of you irritated you usually are.

The view makes you think of something a tad more distressing. You can see trees in the distance, looking progressively greener and more distorted the farther away from the mountain side you’re on. You realize now that you may not have much time because if a group of human rebels are out this far into the wilderness of Gensokyo, they might be trying to escape through the great Barrier.

Eventually, the path leads you to a cave, and whoever was in it got arrogant if they thought they could put up torches and whatnot cause nobody would think to look for them that far out.

“Fucking idiots,” you mutter as you send out Discretion to scout ahead.

“Let’s see what we have here…”

It’s standard fare, really. Cave stuff for the most part, meaning rocks and moss, but this guy had set up torches as well, and there was a box at the end with a simple mat rolled out—


FUCKING axe in your shoulder!

You leap from where you stood, reaching to yank a simple-looking iron axe from where it was thrown into your shoulder and scowling at the asshole who did it.

He stands there. You can barely see his eyes through the shadow of his cloak, but you do see a fighter’s physique and simple leather and fur protecting him. Not something you see everyday in Gensokyo, all things consider—


A wave of force slams into you and nearly knocks you out of the sky before you can react. Scowling, you right yourself and begin hovering around him, firing danmaku bullets and lasers, which the guy was doing a fairly decent job of weaving between until one caught him in the shoulder and he winced in pain. That was when he brought out a shield.


No, your eyes are not deceiving you, he really is breathing FUCKING ice at you.

Your stupefaction costs you, however. Not only are you grazed by the frost breath, making you shiver, but the guy somehow has been concealing a bow under that cloak.

“The FUCK is with this guy?!” you hiss to yourself as you return the favor of a dodged arrow with another wave of danmaku.

This continues for a while. You levitate around him and assail him with projectiles that he either grazes or deflects with that shield he keeps pulling out, then *something* weird happens that wears you down. So far you’ve avoided a wave of fire, gotten shot with an arrow to your leg because apparently Sakuya’s in the area and time slowed down, hell you’ve even had another axe thrown at you at some point

It all comes to a head when Discretion scores a lucky hit on his back from the cave.

“GAH!” says someone other than you this time.

Discretion weaves wildly, flitting in and out of your opponent’s sight while you pull the arrow out of your leg, thankful that it didn’t his your knee. You’re back in the fight, and suddenly things become a lot easier. You draw the guy’s attention, and Discretion delivers some stinging shots when he’s unable to defend.

Hell, if you can overload his seemingly abnormal pain tolerance (just how many shots did he TAKE?!), you might be able to capture him alive for a bonus!

And that is when things go to shit.

The stranger is on his knees, catching his breath, which makes you think that it’s all gonna he over soon—


And that’s when you find yourself feeling like you were slammed into a wall at subsonic speed, Discretion de-materializing.

Normally, it would take more to keep you down, but as you crash down into the the ground, you’re assailed by at least two hundred pounds of pure muscle trying to smash an axe into your head, which you block by grabbing at the handle, the blade just barely stopping in front of your nose before it is lifted up again for a stronger blow.

You escape by blasting the stranger in the face with a Danmaku laser and throw him off before leaping to your feet. You try to fly, but—


Another wave of force slams into you and knocks you off balance. Before you can react, the stranger swings his axe and cuts off your head.

“Hah… hah…” he stands there, breathing as you allow yourself to crumple to the ground, waiting for the opportune moment of the stranger turning his back towards you to head back towards the cave and drinking something from a flask.

You strike.

He winces at the renewed Danmaku assault before his hands start glowing and your Danmaku suddenly does not appear to be having any more effect. Exhausted and winded from the assault, you fail to take note of where exactly you’re standing—

“...oh DAH!”

—before another wall of force slams you and your body off the edge of the cliff.

Tired, your world turns to black.
>>No. 200314
File 155412412246.png - (442.97KB, 850x478, Don't Open Until Later.png) [iqdb]






Frigid air.


Yep, that adds up to your previous memory. Whatever that asshole did to you really stung after taking that fall. Something’s off, however. It’s frigid, but not as cold as the mountain would be. You also smell wood and horses, not to mention the rocking motion.

Did somebody find you? One of the Tengu patrols, maybe?

“Hey, you.”


“You're finally awake.”


No no no!

You slowly open your eyes, begging and pleading that it’s not actually happening.

Alas, you are met by the sight of a blonde man with grizzled hair and beard.

“You were trying to cross the border,

No! The Hakurei Barrier isn’t so easy to cross!

You’re on a wagon, and your hands are bound, Humans in armor at the reigns.

“Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that
thief over there.”

You turn your head to the right, and Marisa Kirisame is there, staring at you.


Your eyes widen in horror as a set of words fade into your vision.

The Elder Scrolls V:

>>No. 200315
It works. It just works.
>>No. 200316
>>No. 200317

This is canon, right?
>>No. 200318
Belated April Fools
>>No. 200319
File 155422389961.png - (20.55KB, 640x478, woosh.png) [iqdb]
kinda just hoping for a bit more seki in skyrim (sekirim?) tbh :P
>>No. 200374
File 155716080140.png - (89.70KB, 614x699, Sekibanki(complete).png) [iqdb]
Just wanted to give anyone still holding out for an update. College schedule shat itself and we're up to our necks in unnecessary requirements (who the hell asks an animation student to make a 5-page research with interviews of professionals about family planning?!). I'll be sticking to my policy of getting at least one update out before the end of the month, and I'll jump off a cliff if I can't.

While I'm still in a self-depreciating mood, I want to take another opportunity to thank anyone who still bothers to read this trainwreck of a story. Have a Seki I drew while on a caffeine high a few weeks back.
>>No. 200375
Cool, waiting warmly.
>>No. 200376
Fuck college.

(Good job on the seki drawfaggotry, by the way.)
>>No. 200377
>>No. 200387
You pick out one wanted poster in particular that looks like it’s been there for quite some time, and for good reason.

[X]WANTED: “Sage” (Treason, Civil Disobedience)

Civil Disobedience by itself isn’t much to pay attention to since Kotohime is particularly fond of handing out those penalties, but the treason… You’d need the seal of the local council to get that sort of offense branded to you.

You pluck the poster, taking a moment to examine the vague, hooded figure drawn on the paper before tucking it into one of your pockets. Definitely something that’ll bring in some money if you can get it done.

You leave the Dragon Statue and make your way to Keine’s school. Your thoughts run wild about how exactly you’d go about finding this “Sage” person. Official support is immediately out of the question, not with Kotohime running wild with her childish fantasies of being an actual officer of the law. She’s an idiot, that Kotohime, but she wouldn’t outright accuse you of being “Sage”.

She’d just make things very, very difficult.

This leaves you Keine and your old channels in terms of support. One you can see right now. The other is best left until dark.

“Oh? I didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” says Keine as you enter the room. “Wash isn’t done with the lesson yet.”

Wait, what?

“Lesson? The hell do you have him teaching in there, how to guilt-trip everyone into submission?”

“English, actually.” Keine squints at what appears to be a Japanese-to-English dictionary. “Although while I was there I noticed that the terms he was using were rather archaic.”

You shrug, nothing to say since Keine’s already heard your accent and deemed you unfit to teach english to children (totally because they can’t understand your accent. Totally not because your english vocabulary is 99% profanity). Nothing else to say, you take the wanted poster out and slam it down on the table.

Keine sighs. “Try to keep your heads hidden this time, alright?”

“No promises.”

“Close enough.” Keine walks over to her desk and takes a seat, inviting you to take the one in front of her. “He was a Buddhist, apparently. Nobody really remembers his name.”

“Not even the temple youkai?”

“Not even them. You know how Hijiri is.”

Too kind for her own good, sometimes. The worst kind of person depending on who you ask, but years of bad blood with Youkai can do a helluva lot on someone’s impression of a character.

In any case, you have a lead.


Under most circumstances, you’d believe it’d be night time to be the best time to interrogate someone.

Unfortunately that isn’t the case with Myouren temple, with all the spirits flying around the graveyard and the nocturnal youkai you wouldn’t be able to keep track of. As you walk through the grounds, you see the human and youkai practitioners in the courtyard going about their business. The nun supervises these proceedings. Toramaru was outside, chasing down Nue, and Mamizou you saw walk into a bookstore on your way here.

In other words, there was nobody stopping you from approaching Byakuren Hijiri in the temple proper. As though she knew you were coming, there was nobody around as she sat in contemplative silence in her room.

“My, it truly has been a while, Sekibanki-san.”

You offer the barest of nods to the head nun as you sit in front of her, setting your cloak to the side and pulling the wanted poster from your pockets.

“Ah, Sage-san,” she mournfully said. “He was such a dedicated person, did you know? Came by the temple almost every day.”

“And yet you don’t even know him by name?”

Hijiri shakes her head. “I’m afraid he never stayed too long. I’ve said he dedicated, not devout.”

“But he still came here,” you state. “I highly doubt he hasn’t interacted with at least one person here.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong.” She turns and gazes out the window of the room. When you follow Hijiri’s gaze, you see a younger youkai, brown ears and tail and sweeping at one of the paths of the temple.

“He was good with Kyouko. I dare say he had her wrapped around his finger.”

Your brows shoot up as you whip around to face her.

“Not like that,” she clarifies, her steely gaze making it clear she wouldn’t allow such a thing, “she was drawn to him. When he still came by the temple he would speak with her often. Her and a handful of other followers.”

“Lemme guess. All youkai?”

Hijiri chuckles.

“Well,” you say. “Things just got harder.”

“If that is what you think.”

Hijiri continues to smile pleasantly at you.

“Think about it this way, when would humans and youkai be the most alike?”

You… You ponder that, for a moment. It’s a but hard to say, after all. You’ve been living as a human in the village for the most part. You dare say that once or twice you’ve felt a sort of kinship with a few.

“When we can get along, I suppose.”

Hijiri maintains the pleasant smile. “I’d advise you speak to Kyouko about Sage-san. They had a bit of an argument the last time they spoke, you see.”

You nod, recognizing when Hijiri has nothing else to say, and leave.


You can’t remember the last time you’ve dealt with kids. Human kids, that is.

“Say, mister! How do ya get around like that?”

“Hmm? Like what?” you ask. It’s the end of the lesson so you’re just sitting at the desk in the front of the room while you wait for Keine to dismiss the class.

“Well, you’re blind, right? You got those ugly scars and all!”

‘THUD’ Flesh on flesh.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You don’t just ask those sort of things, Kenta-kun!” one of the young girls says. You hide your chuckle behind a cough.

“It’s alright,” you say. The placating smile on your face strains the slightest bit when you really pay attention to your own voice. How long have you known how to speak Japanese? You don’t remember.

“Well, it’s hard,” you say to them. “I… wasn’t always blind, I think.”

“You think?” the girl asks curiously.

“It’s been so long,” you tell them. So long as far as you can remember, anyway. “At some point I just got used to it. I learned to listen for things around me, feel things in front of me. This thing helps me know what’s in front of me.”

You carefully lift up your staff for the two children to see, but gently pull it away when one of them, that Kenta kid most likely, reaches out to touch it.

“It looks kinda old, though!”

“Kenta-kun, was it?”


“He was nodding, Washington-sensei.”

Christ that sounded weird.

“Well, I’ve had it as long as I can remember.” Technically true. “It’s never failed me once.”

“...But it’s a stick— OW!”

“Now, now, Kenta-kun,” said an eerily-calm Keine, “What have I told you about watching what you say?”

You respond to the scene with a lighthearted chuckle. “It’s really alright, Keine.”

“If you say so,” she says. “Class dismissed!”

What follows is a barrage of sounds as children shout, laugh or talk while leaving the room.

“I’m surprised you know how to speak Japanese,” Keine says when the children are all gone. You tilt your head in confusion. “Naturally, I mean. You couldn’t translate directly to english if you were relying solely on the language boundary.”

“Well, Neither did I,” you say, standing up and leaning on your staff. “Think I might know who taught me, though.”

Your mind flashes back to that one woman from the ship and her daughter, People are short on this side of the world, apparently, so whenever you look back on that memory you have to wonder just how old they really were for them to look so haunted like the did.

“Can’t really give you a name. Don’t think I ever got any.”

“Well, if they took the time to teach you Japanese, I’m sure they must’ve enjoyed your company.”

Hmm. Maybe. You’re not too sure.

“Well, either way I doubt I’ll see them again,” you say, standing and feeling your way to the exit. “Bye, Keine.”

“You’re sure you can find your way back to Sekibanki’s house?”

“Yes, I can manage. If not, I’ll go back here, if that’s fine.”

You nod at Keine before you leave.

As you exit the door to Keine’s house, you can’t help but notice a change in the atmosphere in the village. Gone is the constant, loud stream of chatter and in its place are hushed whispers. You count your steps, reaching out in front of you as you turn down a path that should take you back to Sekibanki’s house. At the same time, the whispers turn more and more frantic before you finally notice what seems so off about the village.

You follow the smell.

Now, the chatter does pick up in intensity. People still whisper, but there’s more. A lot more.

You pause as your staff taps against something.

“Hey! Watch it!”

“Ah, apologies,” you say to the man in front of you. “I was just wondering which building was burned down.”

Yes, the smell of something burning is quite strong here.

“Hell if I know,” he says, “this isn’t even the building that caught fire!”

“Really now?”

“It was the one next to it. The Kirisame Magic Shop.”



The man in front of you scoffs. “Old man Kirisame’s brat? No way. One, there’d be nothing left if she did it. Two, she doesn’t hate her old man *that* much.”

“In that case, I’d like to know how the building beside it burned down when it was the shop that caught fire?”

“Hell if I know. Anyway, sorry about earlier. Been on the edge lately. You take care now, you hear?”

“Likewise, friend.”

The stranger claps you on the shoulder as he walks away. You’re about to retrace your steps to Keine’s house and from there restart your memorized route to Sekibanki’s when another voice speaks up from beside you.

“Quite a tragedy, isn’t it?”

Youthful. Coming from around waist-height.

Another kid?

“Well, yes,” you say. “I suppose that even if there were no casualties, the fact that someone’s home or store burned down still counts as a tragedy.”

The young girl doesn’t say anything.

“Are you lost, little one?” you ask.

Again, she doesn’t say anything. You give a light hum.

“Hey, mister,” she finally says. “Can you help me with something?”


[] Yes

[] No
>>No. 200388
File 155892554383.png - (262.70KB, 600x450, 1486694696591.png) [iqdb]
What is the worst that can happen?
>>No. 200399
Are you sure you want to temp fate... or me like that?

Are you REALLY sure?
>>No. 200400
>Are you sure?

[x] Yes
>>No. 200401
Fate is calling me
>>No. 200402
[x] No.

Forced to be the voice of reason.

Also, isn't the Kirisame Magic Shop supposed to be located somewhere in the Forest of Magic?
>>No. 200403
Yeah, that’s a typo. Didn’t see It till it was too late.
>>No. 200404
[x] Yes
>>No. 200405
File 156091121080.jpg - (70.49KB, 680x601, heymistermonster.jpg) [iqdb]
[x] Yes
>>No. 200406
File 15615671956.png - (75.61KB, 230x411, __hakurei_reimu_kijin_seija_senketsu_and_sukuna_sh.png) [iqdb]
Well, you’ve always one to be helpful.

“It would depend, but [X]yes. What is it, little one?”

You can practically hear the massive smile on the kid’s face at your reply. That and you’ve only ever heard that sort of “Hah” sound earlier, when one of the kids was suddenly very happy about something.

“I’m looking for a friend of mine!” she declares. “They won’t let me in the bar, though!”

“I’m sorry, I do ‘t believe I heard you correctly?”

“That bar on the other side of Kirisame’s Second-Hand Store. I think my friend might be in there.”

You’ll assume her friend is one of the older village kids.

“And nobody would help you if you told them?”

“Nope! I’m not even that young…”

The humans in this village seem pretty apathetic, you think.

“Well, it’s not *that* bad,” she says. “Most days the villagers are really helpful, but…”

You pick up on the implication and slowly face towards the scent of burned wood. Everybody’s in the edge from the fire, it seems. A normal warehouse fire would’ve been chalked-up to an unfortunate accident.

“I think it’s because the Kirisame shop caught fire first.”

“And didn’t burn down? Or just the fact that it was burning in the first place?”

“The first one, I think.”

Well, you don’t really know Mr. Kirisame. Just his daughter.

Maybe you were a bit too hard on Marisa last time.

...eh, you’ll buy her a drink next you see her.

“Anyway, let’s find your friend, yeah? What does your friend look like?”

“Oh! No worries, I actually have a picture of her!”

What’s a picture?

Whatever it is, she hands you a folded piece of paper. It feels a bit different to the usual paper, and is rough around the edges, as though it was torn from a larger scrap on one side.

“Oh, a sketch? You two must be very close for you to have drawn this and kept it with you.”

Oddly, the kid doesn’t immediately respond.

“Y-Yep! I totally drew that!” she said. “Anyway, lemme help you to the door!”

She takes your hand in her smaller one and guides you to a building right next to the burned-down warehouse. As you approach you smell the tell-tale scent of alcohol. It’s fortunate indeed that this bar did not catch fire from the warehouse beside it. It surely would have burned down in an instant.

“Here we are. Don’t take too long, mister, and thanks again!”

You nod towards the young girl before pushing the bar door open.

It’s a quiet place, smells smoky from both the whiskey and the actual smoke.

“Excuse me!” you say, “I’m looking for this person?”

You hold up the paper.


You are not easily pissed-off.

When Captain took on those castaways, you could’ve gotten mad that you’d have more work making sure they didn’t shrivel-up and die on the trip.

When Kagerou abandoned you out of fear (the first few times) you could’ve gotten mad, but you didn’t.

Hell, you can’t even get mad at Marisa since you’re the idiot who agreed to test out her potion.

In those situations, you just don’t see fit to be mad.

This is not one of those times.

“What part of being BLIND do you IDIOTS not understand?!” you rage and thrash while grabbing at the offending burlap sack and doing your damndest to tear it with your teeth.

You woke up feeling oddly like you had a bottle smashed against the back of your head. Remembering that you’ve last went into a bar, this outcome would actually be expected. Hangovers are a pain.

However, this is a concussion. There is nobody in bed with you. Your hands and feet are bound and staff nowhere to be found.

There’s a fucking Burlap Sack over your head AGAIN.

Door opening.

Footsteps—interrupted footsteps.

“...You put a sack. On a blind man.”

“Finally!” you say, “Someone who makes sense!”

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t make a difference if we left it on or took it off…”


All your thrashing manages to do is knock you over.

“Okay, okay! Fine! We’ll take it off!”

Mercifully, the cursed bag is lifted away from you, and you can breathe just a tad easier now. Or, you would if the current situation had been any different, regardless of wether your face was pressed against the ground or not.

You’ve been knocked out and tied-up. You think they’re about to tell you why.

“So you’re probably wondering why we’ve tied you up.”


“Oh, no I couldn’t care less!” you hiss. “I just wanted that FUCKING sack off my head.”

This guy the leader? He’s gotta be. He’s the only one who sounds like he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, tough luck I guess cause we can’t apologize without explaining ourselves,” he says. “The guys thought you were a youkai.”

You level your most deadpan glare at his general direction.

“...and now I can kinda see why. Geez, man! Cover your eyes! That’s unnerving as hell!”

You narrow your eyes before sighing. You close them.

“Thanks,” the guy says, footsteps coming closer. You feel someone lifting you by the shoulders so you and the chair are properly up again. You feel him fiddling around with the ropes around your wrist.

“Anyway, they thought you were a Tenome—looks like a blind person, actually has eyes on their hands—so they got spooked,” he explains.

“This may sound impertinent of me given my lack of status in the village, but what makes you think that makes everything okay?” you ask.

“Well, thing is…”


“...just untie me already.”


Way you see it, after all that horseshit, you have two options.

[] Go home
[] Keine’s House
[] Sekibanki’s House

[] Get a drink at the other bar you can hear because HOLY SHIT THEY’RE SO LOUD
>>No. 200407
File 156183246831.jpg - (34.42KB, 480x600, HBC5245-BLACK-POST.jpg) [iqdb]
>[X] Get a drink at the other bar you can hear because HOLY SHIT THEY’RE SO LOUD

Wash sounds like he could use a drink to relax.
>>No. 200408
[x] Get yourself a drink
>>No. 200421
I feel like I should as if you all are really okay with leaving the final decision up to two votes? If yes then I’ll just go ahead and start writing
>>No. 200422
Umm. I am not sure if I voted or not..but if I haven't then I vote [x] drink
>>No. 200429
File 156458185795.gif - (170.18KB, 800x336, 45l.gif) [iqdb]
Between the reveal you had from earlier and the general insanity you’re sure your life’s become, you decide to [X]get a drink at the other bar you can hear because HOLY SHIT THEY’RE SO LOUD. At least it’s easy to find.

The air’s cool. You can’t feel the sun anymore. Those assholes knocked you out until night.

The dusty ground feels cold.

You hear the faintest pitter-patter of footsteps.

“You’re okay!”

Ah, shit. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to deal with her just yet.

“Y-You didn’t come out and it took so lone andigotworriedsoiwasgonna—”

You place a gentle hand on the kid’s head.

“Relax,” you croon. “I’m fine, as you can see. T’was a misunderstanding.”

“That’s good!”

“Why are you friends with a fugitive?”

That, you assume, is not so good.


“Look,” you say, crouching down to level with her, bringing up the picture she gave you. “Did you cut this out of a newspaper by any chance?”


“Was the headline “Known Criminal Still at Large’?”


Christ, this kid… Just what the hell is going on?

You contemplate calling the town guard. Apparently, this shows on your face as the kid grabs your hand in both of hers.

“No! Don’t!” she says.

You raise a brow quizzically

“Don’t tell me. You think she’s been framed?”

“Yes! I’m one-hundred percent certain that it isn’t her this time!”

“This time?!”

“Eek! No! I mean! Er…”

You sigh. “Look, maybe you should consider asking the town—”

“They’ll kill her!”

...Of course. Why could these things never be simple?

You bend down and ask her softly: “You’re a youkai, aren’t you?”


You immediately straighten.

“That’s it,” you say, “Find me tomorrow, I’m too sober for this!”

And with that, you march off.

Was that cold of you? Probably. You were being quick dickish towards the end there, but you didn’t agree to ask inside for her friend only to be knocked out by paranoid village men. That and the revelation that her friend is a *wanted criminal* who apparently has done this sort of thing before.

Yes, the sounds of the other bar grow louder and if the young youkai was calling back for you, it’s drowned by what sounds like a tavern song being belted-out at the loudest volume. Nothing’s grabbed you and pulled you back, so you press on.

You walk, staff tapping the ground ahead of you while your other hand digs through your pocket and briefly weighs the bag of coins in your hand. Fairly hefty, so that’s a good sign.

You slow your pace as you pick up the sound of small footsteps running after you.

“Wait!” she says.

You can hear it. The bar’s so close!


...Ah, fuck it. You stop and let her catch up.

“Hah… So you can still help me?!” she asks between breathes. “You said it, right? ‘Find me tomorrow’!”

“I said that so we could talk,” you counter. “Why would you want my help anyway?”

You bend over, opening your eyes and glaring towards the sound of her voice ever so slightly. You’ve been lucky, very lucky to have made it this long all things considered. Blind men don’t normally amount to much in the world.

“Well, you’re human!” she says. “The people here, not all of them know me, but none of them will look me straight in the eye! I could make it worth your while, even!”

You sigh (which you’ve been doing a lot lately).

“Okay, so you want someone who can blend in, is that it?”


“Right. One last thing. Why the hell are you even friends with a fugitive?!”

The kid hums a bit. “It’s a bit of a long story, actually—



Yes, you’d noticed. You heard. Everything’s warm now. It smells of burning booze. Thank you for stating the obvious, little one.

Without another word, you make haste for the new source of heat amid fleeing patrons.

It’s not a small fire, either. You were warm at a distance taking with the kid, but every step closer it gets hotter and hotter.

Someone runs into you.

“What happened!?” you hurriedly ask before they can bolt.

“I-I dunno!” the young girl says. “We were just drinkin’ then everything’s blowing up!”

She doesn’t say anymore before she runs off. The sound of rushing footsteps surround you,followed by a great ‘CRASH’ as something in the distance collapses.

“Hey!” you shout, trying to get someone’s attention. “Inside! Is anyone still inside?!”

You barely catch the faint thundercrack in the distance, because somebody is blabbering about his drinking buddy still being in there as people run, and nobody but you seem to be giving a shit.

A drop.

Someone’s screaming for help.

Another drop.

A sudden rush of heat tells you more of the stock ended up fueling the flames.

More drops.

Thunder in the distance.

“What the—?” In spite of the blaze before you, you can’t help but notice the irregularity.

The winds pick up and chill you and the other villagers still in the area.

“Rain?! But the Dragon God’s eyes are white!”

Another clap of thunder, disturbingly close this time.

The drops intensify.

The heat diminishes.

“What’s going on?” you call out.

Seemingly in response, a harsh gust blows into you and a veritable torrent of raindrops sting against your skin, but you feel the heat recede further now.

“The fire!” you realize. “Someone get some buckets!”

Footsteps scramble around you, and you hear the clunk of wood and the creaking of a nearby well. Villagers footsteps sound past you, water sloshing in barrels and the hissing of steam getting louder and louder.

“It’s working!” someone says.

Another clap of thunder spurs you into action. You can’t feel the heat anymore, but the winds howl now. You realize that it won’t be long before the building, already damaged from the fire, collapses in on itself.

Your footsteps, light against the wet ground, change as you feel charred wood beneath your feet, staff before you and telling you what to be wary of as you step, You hear it. Several, really.


More footsteps follow behind you. Thankfully more of the villagers have gone in with you and already you hear the sounds of hope from more people.

All around you people call for help andthe smell of barbecue fills the air. The most you can do is keep your ears open and listen for anyone who might be buried under debris, but you’re doing *something*.

That’s enough, right?


As you’re walking away after listening for cries of help, you pause as something catches your attention.

When you smell blood, what immediately registers is something metallic. Something that’s also a mix of what you imagine are a peculiar mix of what would make a person. You dont’t smell a lot of it since most of the people who didn’t make it out of the blaze before the freak storm smell more charred and burnt than bloody, but you got something.

You walk towards the source.

This blood smells like a walking contradiction. Why is that? It’s the wrong kind of scent. You smell the metal, but it’s something else. Something you or anyone who’s smelled blood before wouldn’t expect to smell in blood.

It’s contradictory.

“There was a Fox in there,” says the kid.

“A fox?”

“Kitsune. The youkai that can change their appearances.”

You can’t hear anything from the pouring rain. It’s starting to wash away the smell, even, and the howling winds further mess with your hearing,

“What is this?” You ask, pointing your staff towards where the scent is the strongest.

The kid is silent for a few moments. The sound of footsteps eventually break through the rainfall.

“Youkai blood. I need to find her,” is all she says.

You gaze slightly downwards, towards the sound of her voice in front of you, eyes open and searching, if unseeing.

“And do what?”

You think back to what you know, that this “friend” did something in the past. Was the kid roped into it?

“...I need to know why.
>>No. 200430
You wake up the next morning in Sekibanki’s house. The sun shines on your face and your body feels sore. It also occurs to you that you smell like ash.

Perhaps a bath is in order?

Hmm… Something to think about. You exit the room, but don’t hear Sekibanki anywhere. Either way you’re going out today. You’re

[] Going to the second-hand shop. Why would someone try to burn down something so… mundane?

[] Considering visiting Kourindou. You last saw Marisa there, and you wonder if she knows anything.

[] Going around the village. Keep your ears open. Maybe there’ll even be another bar to visit. Hopefully.

Hmm… Maybe you should bring someone with you?

[] Nah, you’ll be fine.

[] Couldn’t hurt.
-Keine’s a “History Eater”, right?
-’Knock Knock’ Smells like Dog. “Hello, Kagerou.”
-Kid’s waiting for you in the village. You hope she’s feeling better.
>>No. 200431
[x] Going to the second-hand shop. Why would someone try to burn down something so… mundane?
[x] Couldn’t hurt (to bring someone with you)
-[x]Kid’s waiting for you in the village. You hope she’s feeling better.

Keine would be almost cheating
>>No. 200432
File 156505688559.png - (1.03MB, 1024x677, kagerou dog soldiers.png) [iqdb]
[] Going to the second-hand shop. Why would someone try to burn down something so… mundane?

Hmm… Maybe you should bring someone with you

[] Couldn’t hurt.
-’Knock Knock’ Smells like Dog. “Hello, Kagerou.”
>>No. 200434
So... Kagerou and the kid? Both of them?
>>No. 200435
Sounds good.
>>No. 200461
Most people would say, “it’s not my business, why should I get involved?”

You, well, you wish you could’ve done something.

You don’t think it’s your fault, far from it. You just wish you’d been more capable of doing something other than standing around and waiting for someone to call for help. Thus, this.

You’re about to open the door when you suddenly smell someone familiar. You open it anyway before they can knock.

“EEP! Don’t do that!”

You grin, blinking and keeping your eyes less widely-opened.

“I thought it’d be funny,” you shrug.

Kagerou is uncharacteristically silent.

“Anyway, you looking for Sekibanki?”

“Actually, she asked me to look after *you*.”

If you were a prideful person, that would have stung. A LOT.

“Thank you, I suppose?”

“Well, where are you going, then?” she asks.

Your only reply is to stare at her again for a few minutes. Inwardly you wonder id you should get her involved considering her previous track record of accompanying you. Then again, both those times involved people very much out of her league (and your’s. What luck to have made it out mostly unscathed!),

“Actually, this is good. You’re supposed to look after me, right?” you say, grabbing her hand (or trying to). “Come with me, then. I need to meet someone.”

“...Wash? What are you doing?”

You swipe at the air in front of her again, your hand brushing against cloth.

“Are you trying to grab my hand?”

Your head slumps down in defeat. Meekly, you raise a hand in front of yourself and wait for her to stop giggling at you and take it.

“Not one. Word,” you say, starting to walk towards the direction of the village.

Kagerou falls in step alongside you, and eventually releases your hand when she realizes that you don’t actually need to be guided.

“You’re getting better!” she cheers.

“I’m still blind, Kagerou.”

“No, not like that! I mean in general!”

Nah, you still don’t get it.

“You’re more relaxed now, I mean,” she clarifies. “Not always a good thing in a land like this, but still! Well done on adapting!”

“Uh… Thank you?”

Kagerou chuckles as the two of you continue your walk into the village. You now hear more and more people.

“So what’s got you going here today?” she asks.

“Well, since you’re with me, I’d been meaning to ask for your help,” you say. “I’ve been caught up in something, it seems.”

“Oh, gods no… Why?!”

As you walk, you can only shrug.

Why DID you agree to help the kid?

What can YOU do?

...relatively speaking, you are nothing.

Or you are until you DO something.

“I felt like it, I guess,” you finally say.

“But! That’s—! GAH!”

You pause to allow Kagerou to pull herself together.

“Why am I hanging out with you?” she sighs.

You shrug again. She could’ve said no.

“No I couldn’t! That would’ve made me look like an ass!”

To who? It’s not like you care.

“Ugh… Nevermind.”

You recognize the attempt to end the conversation and respectfully comply.

You’ve started to hear the villagers around you again. Whispers. Most about last night’s fire (some are calling it an Arson). Still some whispers about you.

What the hell is a Tenome? It’s probably a kind of youkai.

Do you feel disturbed by this? That the villagers think you could be one?

That’s a thought best saved for later.

“You’re here!” you hear in the distance.

The mostly-drowned sound of little footsteps grow closer and closer to you before they come to a halt.

Around the same time Kagerou clutches your sleeve.

“Oh! You brought someone to help, I see!”


“What?” you whisper back, “Why?!”

Kagerou tugs at your sleeve even more now. “Wehavetogo!”


The smaller footsteps step closer to you.

“Hello!” the kid says. “Is something wrong?”

Kagerou’s taken to pulling your arm in the last few seconds, but you do not budge.

“Nothing at all,” you assure her. “This is Kagerou. She’s a friend.”

You hear the footsteps go around you closer to where Kagerou has meekly planted herself behind you.

“Say, have I met you before?” the kid asks.

“Eheh… No?”

“Forgive me for being presumptuous,” you say, turning to the kid. “You were looking for help and, well, she’s here to help me out, so that means she’s helping you too.”

The kid hums. “I see.”

She steps closer to Kagerou, who you notice presses against you a bit more.

“I thank you for your cooperation,” she says. “When all is said and done, I shall make it worth your while!”

“I-It’s nothing,” Kagerou says.

Well, you’re all off to a good start.

“So, the fire last night,” you say.

“The fire last night,” the kid repeats. “The villagers don’t want to talk to me about it, unfortunately. It’s kinda frustrating.”

“And your… friend was there?”

The kid stays silent. The blood on the scene painted a number of pictures, none of them good. Regardless of what happened, this ‘friend’ did something that got her injured like that. Did she get caught in the collapse? If what you’ve heard is anything to go by, maybe she picked a fight. Maybe someone else did?

“I’m curious about the fires,” you say. “I shall see what I can find,” you assure her.

“Really? And what will you do?”

You hear the faintest whisper about the three of you standing around.

“...the usual.”


The two of you agreed to meet back at the statue of the Dragon God later on. You don’t think you’ve actually been there yet, which leaves it up to Kagerou to guide you there.

Now, if only she wasn’t so damn jumpy.

“What’s gotten into you?” you ask her as the two of you walk.

You can practically hear Kagerou’s shudder.

“Bad things,” she whispers. “Lots and lots of bad things. All because of *her*.”

Her? The kid?

“That bad?”

Kagerou sighs.

“Why did you agree to help her, Wash?

[] “I felt like it.”

[] “Why wouldn’t I?”
>>No. 200462
[x] “Why wouldn’t I?”

Do you need a reason to help someone?
>>No. 200466
File 157007172845.png - (1.08MB, 1200x1200, kagerou grammar.png) [iqdb]
[x] “Why wouldn’t I?”

Wash isn't one to judge

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