The dead-eyed, bruise-coloured girl reaches toward you with that same, painfully slow, precise motion. Her fingers stretch toward you face, her eyes focus on nothing. She looks exactly like a puppet, being controlled by a lazy, distracted puppeteer.

'Hey, woah there.' You move your head back slightly as she reaches for you, without actually stepping away. She's so slow that you could run circles around her, even as exhausted as you are. 'Let's just take it a little slower, yeah?' You ask, but she doesn't stop reaching, fingers curling around like claws, hovering for your throat. 'Aheh, yeeeah, let's just ... ahem.' You side-step, keeping her just beyond arm's length. She grasps at the air.
'You. May.' She speaks again in that same broken voice, and you step sideways again as she turns, trying to work out what to do. She's reaching for your throat, hands hovering in the air at just the right height to strangle you, but she hasn't got the speed or the motivation - or maybe either - to actually grab you. Or maybe she's trying not to.

'You don't want to do this, do you?' You mutter to the slow-moving woman.
'Come here. Stand.' She speaks again, her expression slackening even further. She moves slower, and slower, and slower, until she's barely turning at all.

You step around behind her, examining her from every angle. She's not even carrying anything; her pockets are flush against her thighs. No phone, no wallet or purse, no keys, no anything. Just the clothes on her back.

And the outline of something underneath her shirt.

At first you thought it was the edge of a brastrap, but it's too thin, and too low down. And it's what's making the rustling noise as she moves, or tries to move.
'Excuse me.' You say softly, and then take the back of her tshirt carefully with thumb and finger, and lift it up.
You're silent for a few moments, shuffling sideways as she moves slowly in a circle, trying to turn to face you.

Okay, THP. Here I am.

I will only be able to update this story during evenings and weekends (excluding this Saturday, when I will be busy). Each update will not be very long, but it will be pretty fast, and we'll see how many I manage with the time I have. For now, I'm going to do a couple to begin, and then go to bed.

==

~Renko's Adventure~

A Story In Infinite Parts

ver. 0.9.9.6

>Start
Options
Extras

Your cute face is something I will never forget. It's because of what you did that I'm able to look back and be the most thankful that I chose you...

The same cars. The same buildings. The same people. For a while now, it's all felt rather boring to you. Deep inside, something inside you makes you want to forget you ever socialized with humanity. That's not to say it's effected your general mood though, you haven't noticed any changes about in yourself...yet. But it just seems like lately, the world has been disappointing to a deep part of you somewhere inside. Somewhere inside you, is something that wants to be free, to get out and reject the standards of today's world. Everyone bustling back and forth, waking up, eating their meals, going to work, coming back and sleeping again. It's a distasteful routine that the 'something' inside you is not ready to accept. Something about the whole world just seems so...ordinary.

As you're dealing with that though, you notice you've finally arrived home, a small, modest apartment in a rather quiet neighborhood. No incidents ever happen, nothing exciting ever comes around. Just the apartments and the people that go about their mundane lives everyday. It never changes. Inside your little abode are just as modest living quarters. Nothing exciting, in fact, it's a little bland, and almost poor. You have no bed to sleep on, just a comfy little futon. Your TV is barely 11 inches large. And is still analog, despite the recent coming of digital broadcasting going about. Your bathroom is just barely large enough to house a small sink, a toilet, and a stand in shower. Your kitchen is roughly the same size, as you have but a miniature refridgerator and stove to keep your food edible. The only thing that really sort of stands out is the large desk on one side of the room.

Anytime you had paperwork, needing to draw something, or anything that involved some sort of writing material, you would do it here. It was a very important part of the room, and thusly, your lifestyle. It's on this desk that you find a little envelope neatly placed on top. Did you even ge

Looks like this is my first story here on THP. I've been lurking and voting for a few months now, and I hope that I picked up enough of the little things that are necessary to get along out here. I have tried writing before, but mostly short stories and definitely not in CYOA form. Kick my ass, so I keep writing, would you?
Some of you might know me from other forums or from the IRC. I'm not about to spill the beans on that just now.
Apologies to anyone who knows the real-life locations mentioned, they will be thoroughly twisted for this story.
Well, let intros be intros. Onwards with the writefaggotry.

---------------------

It was a cold and windy winter night. The fresh and still falling snow outside was just enough to dampen the sound in that special way only snow and thick mist can. Most of the people in the little city of Reutlingen, Germany spent the evening doing what many others were doing all over the globe: huddling together, keeping each other warm and enjoying the company of their loved ones. Others were surfing the web and, while maybe not keeping each other warm -but most certainly flamed-, were at least sharing thoughts and getting together with friends and people who thought alike. Cars were rushing along the center of the city and the many larger roads, white cones of light and red specks of glow hovering through the night, but in the thick of the housing districts, a calm silence enveloped all.

It was on this fateful January night that a young boy, or better, young man was given a present that would change his life- although nobody ever expected it.

Who that young man was?

Well, YOU, of course!

[x] NOBODY CALLS ME CHICKEN! NOBODY! (spin the wheel)

(When I asked for a tie-breaker, I meant the very next post will decide what to do. Sorry for not being very clear about that.)


You grab the very top of the wheel and pull down hard to make it spin (and spin fast).
You’re about to make this wheel your bitch!

Creepy carnival music beings playing from the wheel and it spins and spins and spins and spins and spins before coming to a halt. Aaaaand…

26- Gain a new trait

Sweet! You played with fate and won! You rolled that motherfucker like a new whip and came out on top! Fuck yeah!

“Very good sah! You have now gained a new ability of which to fight crime or evil or whatnot, enjoy your new power!” The silly man cries out triumphantly as if to proclaim that the wheel was a huge success and a crowd begins forming around you, the man, the wheel, Yuugi, and an oblivious Flandre still hugging the plushie.

"Fuck Gensokyo"

It's the only thing that has been going through your mind for the past several hours. You sit with a miserable scowl on your face as you try to think beyond your hate and remember exactly how you ended in this horrible situation; kneeling behind a group of elderly old hags as they natter and rabbit on about gossip and other equally inane garbage, waiting for one of them to call for you and demand another sake. You would appreciate the polite tones and the manners some of the less plastered women offer you, but you seem to be a little too busy being bitter over being called a drinks monkey by the violet haired cow in the red dress. Embittered and more irritated then usual, you reluctantly take her order, muttering something about how stupid the snake rope... thing on her back looks as you leave the drinking hall to get her request.

You welcome the chance to get away from the rabble of wenches and their mind-numbingly dull chatter and bitchy gossip, if only for a brief period of time. Glancing around the kitchen you see that you are very much alone, and not even that younger girl in the green seems to be around. You silently thank your choice of deity for this moment of peace as you make your way over to the drinks and start to pour yourself something strong after shrugging off your favourite jacket onto the back of the chair.

"Hrm... come to think of it, I don't have a chosen god do I?" the thought ponders in your mind as you take a sip from the cup and welcome the ice cold beverage. "Maybe I should have someone, something to pray to when I get caught up in this crap..." you think to yourself as your earliest memories of this Gensokyo shit hole and the exact reason about your being here come to mind. You relieve those horrible mental images and repeatedly curse yourself and your frankly pretty shitty luck for your current predicament. As you finish your glass off, you scowl to yourself again and repeat your earlier thought train from before; "Fuck Gensokyo"

"Please mind your language" speaks a polite and quiet, yet noticeably annoyed voice from behind you. "And please stop drinking all of

Hello everyone. I have decided to finally try my hands at a Touhou CYOA. In doing so, I hope to entertain you all with an idea I tried to realize as a fanfic. If you have heard of the unfinished fanfic called "Rebirth", you may know what this CYOA will be:

"Saigyou Ayakashi escapes his tree prison and becomes a human-like sakura youkai."

I am by no means a fast typer, and I can be rather busy at times. Still, do you wish for me to tell my story?

[]Yes!
[]No!

[x] Seek out Youmu's advice
-[x] Ask if she knows any self-training exercise.

You had some better success with Youmu. You want to keep trying with Ran, but maybe you're getting ahead of yourself just a tad as she said. You decide though that wondering whether or not you made the right choice is not an important matter right at this second. Clearance for now is what you need, so you go and look for Youmu and see if she can enlighten you just a bit further. While you feel you might be able to surpass Youmu easily with a little effort, you never got to talk much with her. Then again, this feeling is just based on how well you performed against her hand to hand. It could be totally different when actual weapons are involved. Though, you're not sure if you really want to find out.

The mansion feels eerily empty. The kind of emptiness you would expect from a broken heart. You hope you didn't let anyone down. You can't say you're too worried about Yukari, you think she'll live, but everyone else seems to be depending on you too. For what, you don't know, but you feel it's important that you don't be discouraged in light of this and try and prove yourself to everyone else.

Look at you...you feel like you're some grade schooler again, showing up his peers in some silly playground game. Despite all this, it could turn out to have very real involvement with death here.

You eventually find your way around after much random stumbling through the mansion. You come out an unknown entrance and into a vast garden, filled to the brim with the many cherry blossom trees you've become familiar with, along with a wide variety of flowers, including spider lilies. It's all very morbid, yet astonishingly beautiful all at the same time. While staring in awe of the magnificent flora before you, you spy Youmu tending to one of the plants at the far side. She's trimming it with a pair of large cutters, rather nimbly at that. She must've been a gardener for a very long time. It isn't until she turns around enough while tending to the foliage that he happens to see you, resulting in stopping your awkward staring at her.

A gray night pierces the sky and horizon with looming clouds above the world. So untouchable, so unreachable. You cannot touch the sky, only the realms of reaching within your grasp is within your possibility.

A mysterious calling beckons for you. In this sullen, gray night. You take 'it' and go. The woods are a maze, trees sprouting at random places, here and there. You take your sweet time, breathing in the surrounding air. You wish to fly, but there's only one thing preventing you from doing so.

No, that is wrong. It is precisely what keeps yourself from doing it in the first place. The only thing you wouldn't give up. But still, you long for the air that feels light, brushing your cheeks softly. Noises are made nearby in the forest, but you go on. The chatter of small youkai and the incessant scampering of young ones make a melody to your ears.

You pass upon a traveling bard. He nods your way, but you choose to ignore his recognition. Rather out of spite, you feel a small sense of pity to him. Music was perhaps his choice, a way of living you can say. But you chose to be, and that is how it came to existence. Music was your last thread, hanging onto dear life. It was you. You were the music. But you trade glances with the bard anyways. He smiles a smile, a weak one, yet all knowing. He probably has lived a tenth of yours, but that gaze of his showed a wisdom far greater than yours. Probably.

You part ways, both of you not stopping for anything but a glance between you and him. The gray night darkens to a sheer black, only the moon and stars guiding you to the place where you must go. And you have no idea of where you are going to, but you are sure you have to go there anyways. A calling, or maybe an urge.

…

A naive man once told you that talent was meaningless, if there wasn't a musical discipline to them. He also said the musical notations and sheets were the heart of the compositions. Out of spite, you lashed out of him. These emotions that you conveyed then are the emotions that convey music. Staves, bars, chords...they were all nothing to you. Music is whatever the hell it wants to be. So it will be what it will be. The

(Not actually a CYOA, nevertheless I just thought the world needs more pic related.)

The television crackled as she idly flicked through the many, many channels. They spill forth; Fragments of chatter, both mindless and intellectual and everywhere in between.
"Not a trace of the rift remains-" vwip "-ree quarters of humanity are still recovering from what we now know to be the mental assaul-" vwip "-to Earth, descending now to give gracious thanks-" vwip vwip vwip "-Return their hearts and let us sleep, she said-" vwip

"-A demon, twice and thrice named sent from Hell itself to lure us from the true path!" This seemed to catch her attention, holding back from tapping the remote.
"But Father, why did she save us all, then? Should we not feel grateful?"
The priest on-screen puffed up like an angry blowfish, readying a bellow.
"If we have been saved by her it is only so she can trap us in her nefarious plans, so that our souls are forfi-"
A thrown soda can interrupts the priest, who shys away from the badly aimed missile as the camera swung round to see where it came from. There they were, three or four young men and women taking off their jumpers and clothing to reveal their emblazoned t-shirts - the audience cheered as they saw the stylised purple slash with red ribbons at either end.
"Get bent, old man! She saved us all and I'd rather she had my soul and be in her plans rather than some stuffy old god! We all love Yukar-" vwip vwip vwip vwip vwip

No entertainment programs seemed to be running; not that unusual while the Great Emptiness had seized the world; but that was long past, nearly a month now. Had they forgotten how to make good TV shows?

vwip