...So? It's not like she can see me if I don't want her to. The silent, instant switch from "visible" to "completely nonexistent" makes me think back to all the times I wish I'd have had this back in high school. Not so much for the spy potential as the avoiding trouble potential; a pattern that seems to have followed me even this far.

And still, the girl that walks out of the door stares insistently at me the second she comes into view. The unmistakably not-a-god-damn-cheating-cunt. Her features aren't quite enough to make the distinction, but then last I checked the cat didn't flicker like some kind of retinal scar left by a child's flailing sparkler at night. Between the heavy contrast and the wild swaying and snapping of the lines that make her up, it's hard to make out anything more than that she's there. Except that as soon as I make the distinction, they scatter into the air like worms, digging into the walls and dissolving into the air.

...Maybe I'm just too tired for this shit.

The room they were just in proves barren, the odd chair or empty bookcase aside. No loose books, tools, bottles, clothes, or any other of the random crap I've seen walking around this place, and definitely no people. In fact, were it not for the flicker of a shadow in the corner, I'd never have known anyone was here at all. Now, though, my feet are slamming the ground faster than my heart's pumping. Some primal urge always takes me over when I get to chasing someone, makes me want to just tear their arms off. Maybe it's because thieves always know what to steal to really ruin your day. Like arms! I'd certainly hate to have mine stolen.

Somehow, though, this one's always a step ahead. Every turn is another careful listen or another disappearing shadow, and her pace never slows even though the rooms we end up in look like they should have toppled years ago. Looking at the outside of the tower through windows, I've gotta wonder how this thing even stays up without a high-speed chase inside of it. The amount of weight that must be in th

(Sorry, I couldn't resist with the thread name.)

------

The trip back to the village had seemed markedly different compared to yesterday, and it took a few moments for the realization to sink in. Inexplicably, I had lost my Moses effect on the general populace. The few villagers I happened to cross paths with no longer seemed as eager to retreat into whatever pits they crawled out from the mere sight of me but instead, did little more than give me a wide berth as they milled past quietly, eyes carefully avoiding my discreet gaze. Their sudden change in demeanour was a surprise, as was their continued presence above-ground. It could only mean Screeches had failed to convince the villagers in abandoning the surface, or had never tried to do so in the first place. The numerous ignorant souls attending to their morning tasks and setting the village up for a new day looked to be no more informed about their danger than they were yesterday. Not that it would make much of a difference now given the fact that Byakuren’s circle was essentially worthless to me at this point.

I spared little thought over the matter, being far more preoccupied with where the flaming sea ghost had disappeared to after failing to turn up at our agreed rendezvous for hours on end. Instead of wasting more time waiting around for her much-delayed arrival, I opted to return to the village to see what I could possibly procure for my inevitable confrontation with the three-armed freak. Marching into his camp with nothing but Yukari’s defunct abilities as back-up would be a poor lapse in judgment. He would have to be confronted with a show of power and authority as appropriate for elders speaking on equal terms, two key things I was lacking and had no way in imitating. If he was to be suitably impressed or threatened enough into reconsidering his custody of Short Stuff, it would have to be done through more conventional means. But how, I had to wonder?

Towards that end, I decided to risk visiting the Hieda manor once more despite having outstayed my welcome there the day before. Screeches was my primary source for information and the resources I desperately needed, a fact I would have to exploit regardle

Silence.

Clank!

...Relative silence.

Clank!

A lovely little iron metronome, pushing forward however slowly with every tick and every tock.

Clank!

After a while, it doesn't even register as noise. At this depth echos are swallowed by an impenetrable darkness before the next strike, making for an unorthodox sanctuary from the outside world. The burning in my muscles is just a price to pay for such serenity. When I first started, it was a different story; The silence was deafening, and spending days on end with black on every side let my imagination fill it with all kinds of horrors. All of them were real, yeah, but there's danger in some form or another no matter where or how you work. There's no profit without risk, no risk with enough skill, and no skill without hard work. The only people who never fuck up are the ones who never do anything, right?

Thunk.

The moment I've been waiting for. Ultrasonics brought back a huge air pocket down here, and when you're looking for what I'm looking for that's a red flag. Either way, I need to be careful – the slightest slip-up can spell disaster.

For example, letting some fucking kid throw a rock down my hole to see how far down it goes.
For example, getting hit with said rock.
For example, not properly securing myself before letting an inch-wide hole open up into a mile-wide cavern.

On the bright side, my mile-long drop is padded nicely by a mile-high building. Even in the few seconds I have before impacting with the roof, it's pretty clear that if I play my cards right the term "gold mine" would be an understatement. The distant twinkle of torches and lamps becomes a brilliant sparkle against the walls of the palace, though it's too dark to tell exactly what it's gilded with. One look at the bell tower and its incredible stained glass mural, though, and scraping walls becomes the least of my concern. Of course, that isn't too high on the list either, considering the likelihood that I&

Because /underground/ needs the attention.

Transmission canceled. Recons terminated. No ample supply of ammo; morale and munitions running low. Time to get out and get going.

Choose your name
[ ]

x Pick your weapon
-[ ] High caliber sniper
-[ ] Close combat shotgun
-[ ] Automatic rifle
-[ ] Submachine gun

x Pick your playstyle/attribute
-[ ] Stealth; terse and quiet with words
-[ ] Frontline; strong willed and determined.
-[ ] Surveillance; thinks actions through; tactful

x Choose your faction size.
-[ ] Group of three
-[ ] One partner
-[ ] Solo

The Hell of Blazing Fires. Aptly named, for in this environment combustion is the natural state. Here, fire reaches an omnipresence paralleling that of air in the overworld. For those that dwell within, this state of affairs is either comforting, or a reminder of all that one has lost.
For a certain raven, the first is true. She has lived in these blazes throughout her short lifetime, with only vague assumptions to define what exists beyond its confines. Flitting from plume to plume, her wings fill with superheated air. Many other creatures share this space with her, but she is looking for one of them in particular.

---

She finds the dichromatic cat wandering the fringes of the magma pits, deep in the heart of this hell. It is a popular locale to burn bodies, because the infernal fluid draws in even the ashes of corpses. Finding her here is unusual, as she does not often manage to claim bodies. Indeed, she has yet to earn her wheelbarrow. Perhaps this day has brought her success?

“Orin, Orin!” the raven calls.

The cat looks up, her expression unreadable even to those well versed in the reading of demonic feline reactions. “Hello, Reiuji.”

“Are you down here because you procured a body to burn?” the raven inquires.

A sour look crosses the cat's face. “No.”

“Oh. What for, then?” the raven replies, enthusiasm falling.

“I'm working to keep the magma going. It needs tending lest it go out, you know.”

“Oh, yes, I know.” The raven didn't. She believes her friend, though.

The cat paws at the bank of the lava flow, looking thoughtful. She is waiting. It'll come, it always-

“How can I help?” the raven asks.

Masking her sigh, the cat replies; “Well, I suppose you could look for some coal. It never hurts to have more fuel.”

As both present know and an onlooker might suspect, finding intact coal in a place such as the Hell of Blazing Fires is quite unlikely, if not impossible. But one of those three has the common sense of a true Gensokyoan native. Which is to say, none at all.

“Very well then! I'll return with some. Keep up the g

Continuation from the /Gensokyo/ thread. Update up in 7 seconds because I didn't want this update's pic as thread-starter pic.

Okay, more like 44 hours.

>>4700
Both are correct, and believe it or not, 'omelet' is apparently the older of the two spellings in English, first attested in the 17th century, with 'omelette' only showing up around the end of the 19th century. If it's any consolation, the single-t version annoys the hell out of me, too.

---

[X] Omelettes are always good.

[X] ...about the dreams you've been having.
[X] ...about her workout yesterday and what sort of training she does.
[X] ...about what happened during the search yesterday.
[X] ...about cooking.

As you continue to look through Yuugi's food supply, your options for breakfast get fewer and fewer. Sure, there's always rice and miso soup, but you can't shake the urge to show off and make something a little more exotic. Has Yuugi ever even had a western breakfast before? Vegetables... you could make some hash browns, but that's not really a full meal. Meat... well, western meals do center around the meat, but you're making breakfast, not dinner.

You close the icebox lid and move past the stove, following the same path you took the first time you used Yuugi's kitchen, but this time, something catches your eye; a medium-sized jar, tucked between the icebox and the counter, filled with a cloudy liquid. Curious, you crouch down and grab it, setting it on the counter and pulling off the lid. Immediately, a strong, earthy smell, similar to the one you smelled when you first entered these caves, hits your nose, and you push the jar away from you. As you do, something shifts within the jar, and against the dark-colored countertop, you can nearly see through the liquid to the real contents...

"...Eggs?"

"Mm-hmm," Yuugi replies from behind you. "There's not much demand for 'em down here, so the farmers just store 'em up and sell 'em by the dozen."

"Huh," you say, reaching into the solution and pulling out one of the eggs. So this water is to preserve the eggs? The shell feels a li

I stared at my plate for several seconds before I spoke.

"Omelettes?"

Cherry smiled brightly.

"I thought that brother might like it," she said. "For some reason, I still remember how to make these. Try it! Try it! They're really good!"

Somehow, I didn't have the heart to tell her that these were usually made for breakfast. Well, I suppose that having eggs for dinner wasn't too bad. She did seem unusually confident when she called me for dinner earlier. Maybe this was her specialty? I quickly forced a smile as I took my first bite.

"Hmm..."

Cherry was practically bouncing in excitement.

"How is it? How is it? How is it?"

I closed my eyes and started to concentrate on the taste. The texture of the fried egg was surprisingly soft and fluffy. Did she add milk or cream? I started to suspect that this wasn't an ordinary dish. But that was only the beginning. The moment my tongue touched the filling, it was assaulted by an array of flavors. This mix of beef slices, cheese and vegetables... I've never tasted such an egg dish before! Before I could help myself, I could feel tears well up in my eyes.

"Alex? Alex! Are you alright, Alex?"

I could feel her shaking my side, but I couldn't respond right away. It was only after I had swallowed that bit of omelette did I manage to compose myself. I carefully wiped off my tears and smiled at her.

"I'm sorry," I said slowly. "I just couldn't help myself. I've never tasted such cooking before."

Cherry just stared at me, for a moment. Then, she lowered her head.

"It tastes bad, doesn't it..." she whispers.

"Tastes what?" I cried. "No! Of course not! What are you saying?"

Before I could help myself, I already had both my hands on her shoulders.

"This tastes wonderful! I've never tasted such delicious eggs in my life? Why didn't you tell me that you knew how to make these?"

Cherry didn't say anything immediately. She started blushing as she looked up i

Continued from http://www.touhou-project.com/gensokyo/res/353.html
Too lazy to remember how to link between boards. Latest update copypasta'd. Figured this place needs a story more than the former test board~

----------

Of course the first thing I'd do is go after her to get it back, but...

Having been out of the story when it happened--the literary equivalent of being unconscious--I have no idea where she's gone off to. And, as aimless searching is a waste of time and effort, I should think of something a little more worthwhile before I resort to it.

It comes to me more or less in the form of three or four posts. I should arm myself! Find something to act as a placeholder in the meantime. It might help to balance out my arsenal a bit, especially with my right foot encased in a block of concrete. How adding weight to the same side of my body balances things out is simple aesthetics; it has nothing to do with the physical aspect of things. It's like how a giant robot is more likely to have rocket pods on the same side as it's gun hand, or something.

Speaking of which, there appears to be a conveniently placed suit of armor stood up right in front of me. I guess it's to placate the readers. There's a sign taped to the arm that says "Made of Nintendium". There's a little blurb about collapsing something or others and some army, but then I remember I'm not supposed to know how to read in this story, so I end up missing most of it. Dammit!

But it's kinda funny how it disintegrates as soon as I touch it. Must have something to do with Gensokyo's wacky laws of physics regarding strength. Or maybe the author just wanted to get it out of the way. Whatever the reason, the pile of metal dust at my feet melts into a puddle, creeps up my leg and adds a shiny new layer to my concrete-coated foot. As it is suddenly shiny, I feel quite awesome--at least, more so than I already was to begin with.

> AWESOMENESS +24
> KICK ATTACK NOW DOES 50d20 DAMAGE

T

Hello Touhou im kind of new hear. :3 Just found the site.