In your sleep, you dream. A white world opens up before you, you in your original body, floating through the bright nothing. The whiteness fades away slowly, dissolving like a mist into the air as fields of rolling green grass, spotted with large, lush trees. You float through the landscape, feeling completely different than before. Total weightlessness. You drift over the hills, and coast past trees idly, a cool breeze blowing at your back.You sail lazily, until you come to a large dip beyond a hill, where you see people at the bottom. Without even thinking of it, you lower towards them. The closer you get, the more you realize that the people are your friends and family. You don't even notice that they're all standing around a hole in the ground until you are right above it. No, that's not it, the hole wasn't there before.
You suddenly fall, your weightlessness gone. You feel a hard thump on your back as you hit a surface, and the hollow tone it produced alerts you that it's not wood. You turn your head to look, as you feel a chill throughout your body as you look at a casket. You realize that it's yours. You look up out of the hole, all your mourners looking down into it, their eyesockets empty. They silently stare at you, if you could even call it staring, for what feels like an eternity. You feel a light brushing on your hand, and look down to discover dirt on your hand. Before you can wonder where it came from, you feel another brush against your face, and look up to see tiny streams of dirt flowing from the empty eyesockets of your loved ones, all pouring into the grave. You try to stand up, but you can't seem to will yourself to move. The flow of dirt increases, to the point where dirt is flowing openly from the faces of everyone you knew, slowly burying you. You can't even scream, and before long darkness takes you as dirt piles over your head.
In the dark, and the fading noises of dirt pouring onto more dirt, you hear a sound. A voice, or an echo of one. It's unclear at first, but gradually becomes more clear with each repetition.
Is that who you are supposed to be?
"How unfortunate you are, even when laid to rest you never truly sleep."
A candle lights in front of you, and a room is illuminated. You're laying on a rather exquisite leather sofa in a dark walled room. You were just buried underground, but what is this?
"You wander from body to body, seeking what was once yours but is now no more."
You realize the voice is feminine, and you realize that the candle before you is being held in place be a white gloved hand. Try as you might though, you can't turn your head to see who it is speaking.
"Wanted by the Courts of the Dead and pursued by a Daughter of Charon, you run into the unknown, but for what? Where could you be going with nowhere to turn? Your desperation leading you from the natural cycle, and for what? To save your life? The life that was already spent and taken from your body?"
The hand holding the candle begins to move. You find your head moving with it, your eyes locked on the flame. The candle is carried to a nearby table, where it is placed among several unlit candles in an elaborately carved candlebra. As soon as it is set, the hand withdraws, and you hear the distinctive pop of a match lighting, and the gloved hand slowly begins to light the rest of the candles.
"Nevertheless, you have reclaimed life, at the expense of anothers. Your wandering soul displaces your hostess, locking them deep within their own mind. You might be pleased to draw breath once again, to smell, to taste, but can you really truly fill the shoes of another? To live the life of a stranger? This isn't what you desire at all, or is it?"
You had never really considered why you had escaped. You had died, after all, was it too much to accept that? Was it the panic of realization that you acted desperately? You watch the flames of the candles, burning completely still. What was it you were really hoping to achieve running away? You had no idea what you were going to do, you just acted on impulse. Now it's true, you have found life again, but it's also true that you couldn't imagine living the life of a stranger.
No, there was a reason you ran. You weren't ready to die. You aren't ready to die. You had the chance, and you took it. As the result, you've found yourself switching between bodies. You've been given life again, but why, you still don't know.
"Why, that is the question indeed," the womans voice interrupts your thoughts. "Perhaps an unfulfilled desire? An unrealized dream? Spirits on both sides of the Great Border can become disturbances when suddenly wrenched from their bodies, especially when they have a strong will. Only souls with a goal of the utmost importance can retain their individuality. Your strong desire to live a life taken before it's time by a circumstance that was never truly meant to affect you. Collateral damage in the great wheel of life, such a tragedy."
Before your time? You weren't meant to die? Collateral damage?
"This is a mistake?" you say, your own voice surprising you. You've nearly forgotten what you used to sound like.
"Mmm, that it is. However, a mistaken death cannot be as easily reversed, but it is not impossible. This is why you still retain your will. A single screw in a great machine that is shaken loose by another screws failure should not be discarded, it should be replaced. Your original body was removed from life too early, and you have become an instrument of your own salvation. You are only one piece however, and you cannot save your past life alone."
There is a pause. You cannot speak again, though you notice the room seems to be growing darker despite the candles remaining lit.
"If you would rather, however, you could always return to the outside as you are now, or in any body you obtain in the future. You will just need to find the means to cross the border, which will be no simpler task. The ghost of death stalks you wherever you are, and attempting to return to your outside world will only draw her blade closer. The only safe path is to stay in a single body and live a life of lies, and avoid the hardships and challenges that could lead you to something amazing. For every risk there is reward however, and even in staying you might find happiness. What you want is your choice, whether or not you get it though..." the voice trails off.
There is no sound for several seconds, then several minutes. Your eyes transfixed on the flames of the candle. Despite their brilliance, the room seems dark, even despite the already dark features. You realize soon though that the light itself seems to be fading away, everything fading into darkness but the flames of the candles. Everything eventually blacks out, and only the flames remain, standing stock still in the darkness. You hear the voice again, echoing in the darkness again.
"I have given you a gift, a realization of hidden potential. Lost One, the soul of the Wanderer, the ability to travel. Your new power is yours alone and may be the key to realizing your goals, but it may also be your undoing. Exercise caution."
The voice fades away, and suddenly one of the flames vanishes, snuffed by the darkness. One by one the candle flames disappear, until there is only one flame left. You watch the flame, expecting it to vanish like the rest, but instead it begins to change. A flicker of blue, and the flame slowly shifts colour into a pale blue. You feel a slight unease as the flame begins to move, drawing closer to you, leaving a wispy trail behind it. The flame drifts towards your face, and you can feel your heartbeat steadily increasing as it approaches. You remain paralyzed however, which only adds to your panic. You feel a rather strong desire to escape, though you don't know why until the flame is inches from your face.
You feel the same cold chill run through your body as a pair of red eyes fade into the light given off by the flame, shining in the cold flame. The devilishly grinning face of Komachi fades in behind the eyes, which gleam with malice. The shadows of the light give her a truly supernatural look, which only adds to the horrific expression she wears. You only hear a sinister breathy chuckle before the pale flame vanishes.
You open your eyes.
Okay, this is just a bit of a prelude to today's thread. I think there's enough explanation there for the direction this should be moving in now. I'll also say now that past this point it will be possible to get a Bad End, and everything before was pretty much impossible to reach any real conclusion in.
I'm going to sleep, waking up in about 6-7 hours then getting on with the new thread. I'll leave it up to you readers to figure out what I'm getting at here, but if there's still not a clear idea of what I'm playing at I'll explain later I guess.
I know, but think about it. What is one of the other writefags does something awesome? The pure energy caused by the massive awesome would implode people's computers, and I wouldn't want something like that happening.
Well, I already started the thread, though I do feel a little awkward about it with so many writers on already. Though on the same hand, I also feel a little annoyed that it's taken me about a week or so to get back to this. I guess if people wanted, they could vote to suspend the thread for today and I'll start it again tomorrow.
It's not new writers per se that is the problem, but writers losing their sense of focus, branching out to widely, and becoming burned out; e.g., Gensokyo Academy was much more interesting and coherent than the story it spawned from, yet it's skipped over for a needless second run of MiG (seriously, wtf Kira?).
Rather some of the most novel ideas come from newer writefags. For example, the netherworld LA in /border/ is much more interesting and in-scope than Border Crossing ever was. Which is not to say the older writefags are bad writers; Scorn's original /forest/ LA is fuck awesome (if slowly written), and /sdm/ has been consistently great. And I still want GM back, even if she won't let us eat that liver.
Anyway, I'd like very much if EZMode continued his story. As well, I'd like Zakeri to continue Recoil of Myriad Dreams--Nemo is a breath of fresh air amongst the other protagonists. Snake has been doing pretty well. While I think SHaG is cute, it's been heavily /youkai/-centric and probably should be moved to the appropriate board.
Finally, this incestuous Nanaya/Futako/Adahn crossover faggotry has to stop, or at least the writers should make some effort to collaborate. Seriously guys, it's embarrassing.
>>40772 >needless second run of MiG SUIKA, MOTHERFUCKER
>For example, most of the stories are much more interesting and in-scope than Border Crossing ever was. Fixed. And either way, I don't know where you're going with this, most of the stories seem to be doing as well as they've ever been.
>this incestuous Nanaya/Futako/Adahn crossover faggotry has to stop We voted it out in SHaG, it's just happening in Border Crossing now.
I have a pretty poor attention span admittedly. Also with pooshlmer's server troubles gone I'm starting back on writing the chapters of the story, since it's been about 2 months since I wrote anything new for it. The longer I write, the faster the quality drops, and the fact that most of the time when I start writing I tend to have a headache or be tired is kind of odd also.
That aside, I'm going to try to get a thread every other day starting today, failing that, every third day. I couldn't do a thread every day, I'd get burnt out really quickly.