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File 127039022193.jpg - (1.30MB, 1100x1600, オ-ド - 殺す気なの.jpg) [iqdb]
4878 No. 4878
(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 regardless of my current standing with the villagers. Making use of her connections once more was a regrettable but necessary course of action, something I was a lot less inclined about doing in light of all the assistance she had provided thus far. Endlessly hounding her with unrequited expectations wouldn’t exactly endear me to her, especially at a time when I had so little to rely on. Still, her wrath would be the least of my concerns now and in extension, hers, when faced with a problem of a far greater magnitude that was the impending death of the false sun.

Many of the nameless villagers who had happened upon me during my little walk to the Hieda manor didn’t seem to harbour the same unfounded terror in me as they previously had, although the heavy atmosphere of being unwelcome remained prevalent everywhere I went. Aside from a few hostile glares the more hardy souls managed to dart at me when they thought I wasn’t looking, the people as a whole seemed to have come to an acceptance of sorts in terms of my presence. Perhaps that was due in part to the Hieda family’s counsel over the people; I was relatively sure the villagers would have no shortage of debates during their nightly retreats on what to make of my unexpected stay in their homes. Regardless, they probably decided it was far better, and safer, to just generally treat the presence of the golden wonder and her oni as nothing more than an unusual episode of youkai haunting until we would presumably grow bored enough to leave just as harmlessly as we had arrived.

In a stark contrast to the agitated adults, the children treated my presence as a welcome distraction from the drudgery of their routine lives. Instead of a deep-seated fear of the unknown, they looked to be exhilarated by my solitary passage through the village streets. I gave the first of the juveniles little more than a disinterested backward glance on noticing his tailing after me, a mistake I would soon regret as more of his ilk found a break in their games and uneventful lounging to chase after the curious oddity prancing through their village. A mob of the little demons had practically gathered around me before I could even reach the village square, gasping and chattering excitedly as they encircled me. Tiny hands tugged away at my clothes inquisitively before the hell spawn focused their attention on Yukari’s tresses, playing with the golden locks as they laughed aloud before hefting them above their heads. Like a mockery of attendants and pages of times medieval carrying their sovereign’s opulent cloaks above dirt-ridden streets, more and more of the other juveniles proceeded to follow suit.

With a few irritated tugs, I managed to snatch most of the locks of hair away from their grasping hands followed by an annoyed grunt, hoping it would be enough to warn them away. Unperturbed, they kept up their relentless attack, obviously ignorant to what constituted as common sense towards youkai. Their elders blanched visibly at their antics, some venturing forth to tear the juveniles away from my vicinity before hurrying off with a cross scolding at the children in their arms, probably fearing that I would have exacted some form of retribution on the youngsters. As much as half of me wanted just that, the other half was resigned to their abuses, recognizing the need to remain civilized to these people. Enduring the endless poking and tugging of the remaining children, I made it to the Hieda manor at last, still in one piece and no less irked by the remaining devils treating me like some rare pet freshly dropped from the heavens.

My entrance this time was far less impressive this time, an understandable handicap in light of the noisy juveniles still attached to parts of my hair and clothing. A familiar looking man of goodly build strode out to investigate the rowdy visitors, followed by his flock of servants as per the norm. Even from a distance, I could already see the bewildered expression he wore and as the lord of the Hieda household stopped before me at loss for words, the rest of his servants did likewise to cast curious glances at the spectacle before them. With a girl barely ten in her years happily hanging off of my right sleeve, I gazed at the huge man in a silent plea for assistance. Like, help me out here?

He recovered well enough to gesture sharply at the children and his servants animatedly went into action, dispersing the juveniles, leading and pulling them out of the manor away from us accompanied by the usual chiding. I let loose an accidental sigh of relief at the rescue, eliciting a strange look bordering on amusement from the current lord of the Hieda manor before he cleared his throat self-consciously. ‘Well… that was… I mean…’ he stopped trying as his well-maintained demeanour fell apart. A slight smile twitched in the corner of his mouth and he abandoned all pretence of formality or royalty. ‘Quite an unexpected sight, Lady Yukari. Certainly, it’s almost otherworldly to see human children take so kindly to you.’

‘I didn’t really pick the strays up for fun,’ I returned in a noncommittal tone, straightening my sleeves back into place. ‘Look, I-‘

He cut me off with a quick shake of his head. ‘Save the theatrics. I know why you’re here.’ Taking a step back, he turned to address the two closest servants remaining behind him. ‘Leave us, and clear the servants attending to Fumika out of the study now.’

The attendants, dressed markedly better in comparison to their menial brethren, nodded once before going off in their separate ways. A sharp cry from each of them had the returning servants fall into file and the two groups filtered back into the manor quickly, returning to their interrupted tasks as well as the Hieda lord’s instructions. I gave the looming figure a curious glance, and he replied with a raised eye, reading my unspoken question. ‘The unpleasantness of our previous meeting notwithstanding, Fumika has requested for you to be brought to her should you return, something I do not pretend to understand. I may not trust one such as you, but I do not choose to question the wisdom of the Child of Miare.’ Stepping to one side as a gesture of passage he added formally, ‘Come.’

Falling into step beside the towering figure, I accepted his invitation with little thought and nothing more than an absent-minded nod. Taking us through the garden of the Hieda manor, very much unchanged since my first visit here except for the fresh hedges he started in a conversational tone, treating me as if I was nothing more than a typical guest, an ingrained habit of his perhaps. ‘It gladdens me to see you exercising such self-control over the children’s behaviour, Lady Yukari. That is highly unusual. No youkai, much less yourself, would allow themselves to be degraded as such, history tells us well enough.’

Probably because I wasn’t technically one, I thought silently to myself before turning to address my annoyance. ‘I thought I said before to stop calling me that. It’s giving me goose bumps.’

He froze momentarily in the middle of our walk down one of the more sparsely decorated corridors, a ripple of surprise passing through his features before he resumed his steps. ‘My apologies for my lapse of memory, but it would be most awkward to address you without an honorific or by name.’

You and your formalities, I muttered to myself, wondering if Screeches was subject to such stringent conduct of self and mannerism for her every reincarnation. If she wasn’t bored or irritated enough by centuries of acting like a nobleman’s porcelain doll, she must have a screw or two loose in her head at the very least. ‘Then go with Hey. Or Whatever. That sounds neat, whichever strikes your fancy.’

‘Very well, er… Whatever,’ he began experimentally before reaching up to massage his forehead at the absurdity of it all. ‘At any rate, I would very much like to remind you to retain such civility in the presence of my daughter, something I am sure is not too demanding a request,’ he warned neutrally without rancour as he took us down an intersection and past some of the guest rooms of the manor, one of which I instantly recognized as the same room where I had conked Screeches out before stealing her away so many months ago. The reminder did little except to resurface my guilt over her manhandling, prompting me to glance away quickly as I tossed the memory into an appropriately murky corner of my mind with all the other unglamorous things I had done before.

He wasn’t expecting an acknowledgement of any sort and we left our unspoken agreement at that. It wasn’t as if I was planning on going physical on her again anyway. Instead of carrying on with the dire warnings, he launched into a dull narration of the numerous pieces of art dotting his little palace during the remainder of our walk to his apparent study, blithering away in his concise elaborations of their practical value and history. Soon noting my complete lack of interest in his endless commenting about the various heirlooms and priceless décor, he gave up entirely at maintaining some semblance of a conversation and led me the rest of the way to his study in silence.

The entrance to his retreat hardly displayed any signs of his wealth apparent, guarded by a set of crude sliding doors which had bore witness to the passage of years. They opened up to yield an equally unimpressive room, lined with nothing but shelves and shelves of scrolls and oriental paper. This could only be where the Hieda family’s centuries-long recordings of Gensokyo are stored. The only furniture in stark contrast to the rest was a utilitarian desk of sorts, where a charming adolescent clad in her usual furisode glanced up from her writing at our intrusion, somewhat surprised at being interrupted. Her surprise soon turned into something far more indistinguishable at the sight of me behind her father, a mixture of unidentifiable emotions she struggled to control as her dinosaur of a parent stepped back to close the sliding doors quietly before slipping past me to stand by her side guardedly.

Screeches stood just as her father stopped next to her, the man dropping a protective arm over his daughter’s shoulders before pulling her closer to him, the two of them facing me as one. I gave Screeches a warning glance before shifting my gaze to the taller figure that was her father. ‘I need to talk to her alone,’ I started simply.

Instead of him answering, it was Screeches who would unexpectedly challenge my demand. ‘No, he’s staying. What I need to hear, so will he. It’s time you let your little secret out for more than myself, nee-chan.’

I squinted at her in anger before darting a panicky look at her father, feeling a wave of uncontrollable fury wash over at Screeches’ crude disregard of my trust, punctuated by a moment of betrayal as she threatened to dislodge my well-preserved anonymity. Clearly she spared no second thoughts about undermining my need to remain hidden. In a similar display of shocked surprise at her use of such an intimate term to address me, the disbelieving man gave his daughter an unfathomable glance before his attention riveted back to me in alarm, alerted by my sudden lurch towards them with an outstretched finger pointed at Screeches. ‘Shut your mouth! You have no right-‘ I hissed at her in a low voice before she cut me off in a louder one.

‘I have every right to be honest,’ she began passionately, her father drawing her closer in a shielding gesture on seeing my abrupt wrath. ‘I gave you so much and asked for nothing in return, nothing except for a little understanding and compassion for us. And yet, you couldn’t even spare such a small thing for me. You endanger the whole village with your reckless plans! Why?’ Drawing closer in her father’s embrace, she went on in a voice close to breaking due to her effort in confronting me, forcing the words out, ‘I’m tired of being your stepping stone! Do we really mean nothing to you? Why do you hold our lives with such careless disregard?’

Seeing the two gradually back into a corner of the study as I advanced towards them unconsciously, I finally realized how much they truly feared me. Her father in the youkai he saw and Screeches in the true self that was me within Yukari. I ran a hand through my face, feeling the muscles contorted in a mask of unfamiliar rage. Abruptly, I forced myself to halt my threatening advance and turned away to massage the corded muscles, easing the frightening expression away as I breathed in a deliberate, controlled manner. Behind me, the father-daughter pair’s tension deflated somewhat but their air of wariness remained still as they stood as one to regard me silently, waiting for some form of response. I didn’t need rear eyes to see that they feared moving from the spot while I was between them and their only exit.

Finally deeming I had regained enough self-control to face the two again, I spun about slowly to meet their collective gazes. Amidst the terror her father struggled to control in him and Screeches’ flush of shame at the outburst, I found reason enough not to antagonize them any further, opting to instead leave the two of them. ‘Forget it. It was a mistake in coming here,’ I muttered with a cool glance at Screeches before turning for the sliding doors. ‘Sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ she shrieked hoarsely to stop me from opening the sliding doors. ‘Is that all you can say? So now you’re just going to put all of us at risk with your damnable plans? Was that what you said to Keine before you killed her?’

The name froze me as much as her accusation and I worked my hands into the handles of the door, feeling the urge to snap back at her in reproach. Nevertheless, I found myself coming to understand her outburst in part, for she was as much a victim to me as I was one to Rilofene. Spurred into a role we had no wish to take part in for the sake of some unknown design, always following the words of one as truth and gospel without question or doubts. It led me to my sorry position in life today, and I could admit in part that it was what I did best to people as well; never truly caring about how much it could change their lives.

Wordlessly, I pushed the left door ajar before slipping through quietly. Behind, Screeches dropped into a little sob as her emotions flowed free. Her quiet cry didn’t last long, drifting into silence as I strode away from the study. I harboured little sympathy for her breakdown. We may have both lived through lifespans far removed from typical humans, but hers was one born into a comfortable life with every reincarnation. She never had to make the hard decisions required for survival, never understood the necessity of equivalent trade and the fact that most times, nothing is gained without losing something else in return, be it our humanity or lives. She would never understand the sort of sacrifices I had to make or the more than dubious moral decisions I had to live with in order to survive the passing of centuries in a world far harsher than her paradise Gensokyo. Insofar, the only difference between the two of us was the fact that I had to fight to live. She lived by merely being alive.

My mind went blank as I shoved the thought into its customary closet, unable to think of anything else but to leave the manor accompanied by the urge to be spared more of anyone’s tasteless and remarkably pointless wrath. Increasing my pace as I hurried past the adjoining corridor, I was instead interrupted by the sound of feet pounding on the wooden floor before someone intercepted my flight with a hardened grip on my arm. Somewhat displeased, I turned to regard Screeches’ father once more, his face slightly pale from the unaccustomed exertion. ‘What now?’ I muttered to him before extracting my arm from his hold.

‘Wait,’ he grunted breathlessly. ‘I think we have to talk. The three of us. Whatever connections you have with my daughter, I care not for now but I demand to know why we’re “at risk”. If there’s any danger to us from whoever or whatever, I have a right to know.’ Dropping the regal expression he wore almost habitually he stared down at me, eyes clouded with concern both for his family and the well-being of the villagers.

I gave him a bland reply before turning to leave once more, not wishing to divulge too much. ‘I’m sure you do, but you’re all going to be just fine.’ Not that I could be entirely sure about that, but as long as it satisfied him enough to not turn the villagers into an angry mob in order to forcibly drive me out I couldn’t care any less.

The meaty hands drew me to a stop once more and this time, I gave the man a hard glare. He paled visibly as his frustration withered underneath my annoyance. Caught in his internal conflict, he made no further attempts at stopping me and I went back on my way, hoping he wouldn’t turn desperate and entertain the notion of having me physically restrained. Instead, he tried another tack in hopes I would reconsider, breaking out in a harsh and accusing voice. ‘I said to you yesterday that it is a human notion to protect those that we love and you agreed with me then. Was that just a diplomatic lie?’

It did stop me this time, due to the corniness of the line instead of any real hesitation over his accusation. I glanced back with a humoured expression to address the somewhat desperate figure, ‘That’s a piss poor attempt at getting me to feel guilty, your lordship.’

If he was stung by the crude remark, he did a good job at hiding his anger. Even so, he pressed on awkwardly, hurrying past me to block off any further attempts at my walking away. ‘I have a family here, people I love and care about,’ he started in a subdued voice, planting himself squarely in the middle of the corridor before me with arms pushed out to brace against the opposing walls. ‘It may not be something you youkai understand well, but we care deeply for our own. If there’s any danger to Fumika or the villagers then I need to know. Please, I know you have the same inclination to preserve human lives as well. It was evident in you and the children just now.’

His pleas looked to be visibly distressing to him, almost physically so. For a man obviously accustomed to being treated as lord and king, having to sink to such a dismal level before a youkai must be a serious blow to his pride but he was wise enough to understand that his ego was of minimal importance compared to what he perceived to be an unknown threat. Still, enlightening him to the current events in Gensokyo could bring about unforeseeable repercussions to my welfare. The less anyone knew about me and what I intended to do in the days to come, the better.
80posts omitted. Last 50 shown. Expand all images
>> No. 5144
Let's hope he can remember enough possibly by rereading.
>> No. 5145
>>5143
Knowing that it wasn't some accident makes it worse. I went on a table-flipping spree at my local Starbucks before randomly punching people there to let loose some steam.

Well, not really. But I raged. Hard.


Thanks for those who had suggested data recovery applications. Unfortunately, I performed a low-level format on the HDD of the old laptop precisely because I didn't want all the unneeded junk I had left on it to be recoverable by someone else using such utilities. Being the idiot I am, I had failed to extract my accumulated writan materials from said junk. I pretty much dug my own hole this time.

The general picture is still more or less in my head as someone had said, but it's not enough to get back on track. It's like losing the metaphorical photo album of people we loved who had passed on. We won't remember all the details in it, especially the ones we need the most. Weird analogy, I know.
>> No. 5146
File 127597635983.jpg - (39.82KB, 640x480, reinhart shocked.jpg) [iqdb]
5146
>>5145
b-b-b-but you'll still update this right
>> No. 5147
>>5145
Try to reread this and see if the gaps are filled in. I'd hate to see this story die after so long.

And next time try to save your story stuff on a USB in addition to the hard drive. That or used an online storage place.
>> No. 5148
>>5145

Or you could give a copy of all your new notes to me! Just joking, of course

But man, one way or the other...if you decide to try and recover/remember Palingenesia; if you decide to focus on the new story (ISTH; interesing choice of letters); even if it takes you a long time for any of the two, don't worry man. We will wait/read.
>> No. 5149
>>5148
>if you decide to focus on the new story
>We will read.
speak for yourself
>> No. 5151
>>5149

Don't lie, buddy. YOu know you will read it. It has the Palfag Seal of Quality, you know it will be good.
>> No. 5152
>>5151
>You know you will read it.

Sure, when palingensia is finished
>> No. 5153
>>5152

I want to ask you why you are being such a dick, but nothing good will come from arguing over the internet. You do whatever you want. Just don't fag any thread up.
>> No. 5158
I've invested too much work to chuck Palingenesia away, but at the same time it does take effort to get back on track, so no, I'm planning on coming back to this once I've overcome the loathing over myself reorganized my thoughts.

And yes, I've read the replies in the other thread. Can't say I'm not exactly dejected, but it's ultimately the reader's choice to give this up or not. A writefag amounts to nothing without readers, after all. As usual, I'll leave it up to you people.

Feel free to toss the rotten tomatoes now!
>> No. 5159
>>5158
Very hooray!
>> No. 5160
>>5158
the problem isn't readers giving up on this; but if anything readers not bothering with your second work due to the perceived giving up on your end.
>> No. 5161
>>5160
That had crossed my mind, so I suppose I'll try to make some things clear for those in doubt. <ISTH> is meant to be something written out to pass time at work instead of a considerably invested effort like Palingenesia. It was never intended to be a replacement for Palingenesia, it's merely a byproduct of boredom and restlessness during long meetings or consultations.

All the same, it's pointless to try and justify my direction because people would read whatever catches their fancy at arbitrary times. I'm just here to try and make sure those that happened to pass through have a somewhat enjoyable reading experience when they do.
>> No. 5162
You want opinions of your readers? this is mine:
I realy like to see this story ending.
In the beggining I don't like it and see me now, i'm a complete fangirl who never gonna lost the hope to see this finished.
I have fun with your other story, true, I want to translate it too, but this comes first, this one, is the ONE.
And if you decide to continue this, I'll be waiting warmly.
But after all, you have the last word and if you decide to stop here, I'm going to respect that decision, you will never lost this reader, no matter what happen.
PD: sorry if the english is a bit bad.
>> No. 5164
>>5161
>people would read whatever catches their fancy at arbitrary times
...It's not like we're a chaotic mass with constantly changing tastes, and what we like today may be hated tomorrow. We might learn to like new things, but we don't get tired of the old things.

If you write more Palingenesia, we'll be reading it, believe you me.
Eagerly.
>> No. 5165
>>5161
The facts you have fans that would want you so much never to give up on this speaks alot. This isn't so much CYOA but novel
>> No. 5166
I don't care what you write, just as long as you write, man.
>> No. 5175
>>5162
Good to hear that. Out of curiosity, what language are you planning on translating to?

>>5164
Hmm yeah, my bad for over-generalizing. I tend to stereotype audiences based on observable trends in other places; a bad habit I need to learn to kick someday.


No real updates as of yet. I've been juggling with some stuff IRL but at the same time I've been thinking "Oh hell, why not just try to pick up from where I left off? Screw the lost groundwork."

Can't make any promises, but I'll be getting back on track nevertheless.
>> No. 5176
>>5175
FUCK YES.
Thank you Pal-anon.
>> No. 5177
/squee
>> No. 5178
>>5175

awesome.jpg
>> No. 5181
>>5175
Tears of joy are flowing.
>> No. 5182
Great! that's a very good new.
About the translations. It's in spanish, my home language. It's simple another way of enjoy the story. It's a exercise more than anything else and another way to have fun with it.
I hope to have the "first book" and the "second one" for september. I'll keep the translation for myself, unless you say otherwise, so don't worry.
See you next time in a cibercafe.
>> No. 5183
Hooray!! I'm reallt happy you decided to try to continue Palingenesia, though I do feel a bit sad SPTH will be paused, if not discontinued, for that. Both stories are great, and SPTH has an interessing plot too.
>> No. 5185
>>5176
>>5177
>>5178
>>5181
>>5183
All of these say what I want to say and express, right now.

Especially >>5177.
>> No. 5186
I finally caught up with this story after being distracted with real life stuff for a while (Stopped reading just after the battle where Reiji died) I have to say that I'm disheartened with the whole situation but I'm very glad that you're going to continue Palingenesia.

Rock on.
>> No. 5719
File 128276537692.jpg - (99.77KB, 640x360, sadguys.jpg) [iqdb]
5719
:<
>> No. 5720
>>5719
We must await the day until it returns. And then that day will be glorious.
>> No. 5752
>>5719

Happy, Madine? Now we have nothing.
>> No. 5753
>>5752
yes it's completely his fault!!
>> No. 6064
Bump to keep this where everybody can see it.
>> No. 6178
Hi, I'm new here. Loved SA, love post-apocalyptic stories, so when I found a post-apocalypse story in Underground I had to stop everything and read it from the beginning. Confusing enough to make me feel smart for getting most of it, and Satori taking an RPG to the face in the Eientei encounter was just plain awesome.

One quick nitpick for the last update: "tsurube-otoshi" is Kisume's species, the bucket-dropping youkai. The youkai with the extending neck is called "rokurokubi" on Wikipedia (not known for accuracy).
>> No. 6179
>>6178


God damn you I thought there was an update.

Also,LURK MOAR! Post when it is appropriate, not as a necro.
>> No. 6184
>LURK MOAR!
How ironic, we don't say that around here.

However, I also thought it was an update, goddamnit. I check /underground/ everyday to see if Palingenesia has been updated. ;_;
>> No. 6185
>>6178
Have the decency to sage your posts then, you dipshit.

>>6184
It's unsaid but understood rule of all image boards.
>> No. 6256
Can we get a status update? Please.
>> No. 6277
>>6276
y-you monster, toying with a maiden's heart like that. ;_;
>> No. 6329
just caught up, this is an awesome story
>> No. 6330
>>6329

1.) Don't use a name when posting unless it's a story post.

2.) Fuck you for making me think this was back up and running
>> No. 6331
>>6329

Why do you bring tears to my heart? I too thought that this story had somehow updated. Now, I am only in pain. The good stories never last...
>> No. 6332
>>6329
>Name
>Italics, to signify he is "special"
>Bumping this thread. This fucking thread.

I had a smile on my face when I saw this being bumped. A large, content smile, signifying that everything was right in the world. It was wiped clean off my face when I saw your fucking post. Fuck you.
>> No. 6334
File 129062123564.jpg - (22.64KB, 500x500, Fuck you with a passion.jpg) [iqdb]
6334
>>6329
>> No. 6355
Well, shit.
Another bump, another disappointment.
>> No. 6533
I'll never give up hope.
>> No. 6538
>>6533
Never gonna give you up
>> No. 6575
>>6538
Never gonna let you down
>> No. 7109
I wish this would come back...
>> No. 8221
Forever unupdated.
>> No. 8499
Why did I have to read this?.

Waiting warmly in despair.
>> No. 9238
>>8499
>2~ years since the last update and still wating warmly in despair
Just give it up kid, you're gonna have to carry that weight. I-it's not like I just checked back to see if there was anything new posted here at all in desperation, or anything! B-baka!
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