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[x] Create a deadly neurotoxin to spend time.

“Eureka! Saw that, idiot rabbit? Of course you can't! I just created something strong enough let you die in a fearsome and painful way! And what you understand? NOTHING! Freaking nothing! I envy you sometimes, being idiot must be a blessing. But I do enjoy that genius brain of my. Thanks to it, I could create.... THIS!”
Raising the bottle over your head, you scream in joy. What you made is something horrible, a disgusting poison from your twisted yet wonderful mind! A wonderful poem, to death, and torture! A disgustingly perfect and slow death! This is what you made, by mixing average neurotoxin to aphrodisiac! According to your prevision, the victim will first feel horny its body will slowly goes numb, and in the end, be totally paralyzed, leading to a death by asphyxiation! Of course, you're still alive during the whole process, to make things worse! But isn't it better to die while having a boner? Hey? Besides, you're pretty sure that hanged peoples died while ejaculating! How elaborate from you, because, in the end, anyone being poisoned by this will leave this world in an orgasm. Man, you are so horrible and twisted, you actually love yourself for being like that! Now, if you could just turn this liquid into a gas, everything would be perfect. Perhaps if you use another toxin?
Oh. Someone spoke. And that's not Reisen. Nope. That's that chain-smoking brown haired girl with a nice hat, Renko Usami.
“Hello Renko. Hey, it rhymes. So what's up? Wanna have an innocent and totally not suspicious drink?”
For some reason, she's avoiding your eyes, not looking at you directly. That's not bothering you, since you're far more bothered by the fact that she's smoking in the laboratory. But you're not going to lecture her, she's old enough to know what she's doing.
“He's coming.”
“Mmm? Who? Zalgo? The Antechrist? Reagan?”
“The one you're supposed to get rid of.”
And with that, she disappears. Just like that. You just blink, and “poof”, she's no longer here. That's funny, when you think about it. It'
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.... Fucking brilliant.
that ".sock" made my day.

For no reason.
Next thread at: >>8433

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"So, sort this out for me, Suika," Yuugi half-yelled over the transmitter. "You're saying that Marisa's dead, Yuuka's dead, and the Enma is missing?"

"A-yup!" It was easy to tell which of the two had been imbibing recently. "Yuuuugi, the boring ghost is missing too."

This was news to Yuugi. "Marisa was killed by Yuuka, Yuuka was executed by the Enma, and now she's missing because she probably did something she wasn't supposed to do." Yuugi cupped her chin in her free hand, her sake sloshing around in her almost-full saucer. "So why is she missing?"

"I dun know," came back the reply. "Even Yukari can't find her."


Yukari had been busy for the past few weeks. She had allowed Shiki access to her gaps for the public "execution", had bid farewell to her previous life with her blessing of Kana and Yuuka, and then had spent a lot of time looking for Yuyuko. Youmu had let Yukari know that Yuyuko said she was leaving for a while, and that had been around the same time as the execution. She was so busy, she forgot to take back the contact orbs Reimu had used on her trip down, and Suika, having found them in the storage shed just outside the house, decided to use her power to bring one of them to Yuugi.

Yuyuko was always a whimsical being. She would be the person that would run a marathon just to enjoy all of the refreshments along the way. To someone like Yukari, while it would be child's play to track her movements, it would much rather be spent sleeping.

While Yukari slept a lot, it was only to conserve her own energy. Youkai were creatures born from emotional responses and/or fears and likes, but eventually even youkai as powerful as the Lady of Borders knew her own strengths and limits. Her own power took very little effort, but if she was to fulfill her end of the bargain to Reimu, she'd have to stay alive. One generation later, and everything seemed to be the same. Old youkai faded away, and new ones came in to take their place. Gone was Elly, Yuuka's gatekeeper, and the former youkai of death, and in
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It was on purpose that I posted it here.
It was on purpose you posted it on the wrong board?

/shorts/ is there literally for things like this. If its a short, it doesnt matter if its in the shrine, or in the temple, or hell even in the underground: It's still a short, for, guess what, /shorts/.
You must be new to this site and his on going story.

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[X] If a fight is what it takes to bring this to a close... you'll just have to find some way to survive!

It's too late to run now. Hell, it's been too late to run ever since you first talked to her; you have a feeling that she made up her mind to kill you as soon as she found out that you were against her 'cause'. At this point, even if you could get Orin out of her funk and moving, trying to run might just end up bringing Okuu chasing after you up into the city, and you can't think of a worse outcome than that.

Which means you're going to have to fight here. With one last look at Orin, you stand from your crouch and turn towards Okuu, sizing her up as you mentally prepare for battle.

That cannon is still pointed towards you, but she isn't firing yet; there must be some sort of limit on how quickly she can shoot, or she would have just hit you with a follow-up after her first shot grazed you. It's too heavy for her to wield it easily, too; she has to brace herself with her free arm just to keep it trained on you, let alone re-aiming. Add in the weight of the thing slowing down her footwork and the fact that she'd be fighting one-handed, and your path is clear: you're going to have to get close and stay close until you can knock her down for long enough to give yourself a chance to get out of here.

The only problem is how. There's about a twenty foot gap between the two of you now, and If Okuu's done the same thinking you have, then she'll be trying to maintain that distance just as sure as you're trying to close it. Dodging those fireballs won't be easy at any distance, but getting closer will only make the task more difficult, and judging by the speed of that last shot, twenty feet is as good as point-blank range for this weapon. Danmaku as a distraction is a possibility, but you have a feeling that putting what little you've got up against her projectiles would be like showing up bare-handed to a knife fight. At closer ranges, maybe you could--

"Get away from Taizou, Rin."

And thinking time is over. Stepping back into a more balanced stance, you ready yourself
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What this has to do with privacy i sure don't know.
A notice is always welcome so that we know what is going on. Saying nothing is always the worst thing to do. And even if he says things like "nothing at the moment" i am fine with that. Before he lets the whole thing rot he should put it on hold or something.
File 132402069183.jpg - (70.08KB, 859x1500, stoprightthere.jpg) [iqdb]

also, apologies to all the people whose hope I might've gotten up with this post.

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“I heard that when you die in extreme pain or sorrow, you become an evil spirit, only caring about his revenge. Now I'm asking you: are you in pain right now? Of course, you're laying on some rocks. That's not very comfy. But you had worse, right? Like, I don't know, when you fall on those rocks! I bet it hurts. Are you still feeling the pain? Does it still hurt? Hey, I wonder! If I can erase the pain, will you not be mad at me for scaring you? Won't you throw rocks at me if I … let's say 'heal' you. I don't really want to go into explanations.”
“Please...” Is all you manage to say. Mainly because you're badly hurt, but also because your jaw is broken. That's what you get for trying speleology without reading the manual! And maybe the rope was too short too. And maybe the rock was too hard.
You were trying to fix that hook, like you saw in that movie, but then, something asked you what you were doing, and, startled, you fell from the plateau.
That was a beautiful fall, by the way. Maybe you should have recorded it, and uploaded it on Youtube.

Oh silly you! That's right, you can't really move, since your bones are all broken! That hurts a lot, by the way. Not as much as when your mom caught you drinking beer in the family basement, but it still hurts. Thinking about it, you're wondering how will react your mother, hearing that you disappeared in a hole. Maybe she'll say something like:
“He disappeared? Lock your beer and your daughters!”
Yeah, obviously something like that.

“So, are you decided? Suits me if you decide to become an evil spirit, we're in shortage of them. Rin may pay good price for a new spirit.”
“Who's... Rin?”
“She's taking care of hell, torturing some spirits. Kinda like a caretaker, but more sexy.”
That's right, you remember the building's caretaker. As friendly as a space invader, and as sexy as a bearded woman.
“Please... Help me.”
Wow, your jaw wasn't broken in the end? My bad, I though it was. Fine, let's say your jaw is fine. But talking is still the only thing you can do. In short, you'r
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If it lands in the pavement, Get to work you lazy nigger.
>sane half as GLaDOS

The guy needs help ASAP.
Next thread: >>7559

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—We had strayed the caves for whole millennia.

No, to say that would be a bold overstatement.

One loses notion of time underground – seconds blend into minutes, minutes melt into hours, hours mingle into days. One could say time isn't much unlike a tankard of cheap ale in a wayside tavern – it is lost with neither heed nor notice, only apparent when you set your mind towards the past, to tally sceptically the gone-by numbers. Indeed; deep beneath the light-basked surface of the world, in the snaking bowels of Hell's foyer, time spilled between your fingers as drops of dilute golden brew.

Garion stopped, stooped against the cold, stone wall of the passage, then sighed – only to himself, of course.

He never would have directed such explosion of emotions at another.

He pricked up his ears and listened for the sounds of water seeping from the cracks in the uneven ceiling, measuring an interval at each loud tinkle when they crashed on the treacherous, crooked floor. His mind hovered just this side of restlessness, and the noise of falling droplets made a good substitute—however whole-clothed—for clocking how long he had been wandering the convoluted maze of sunless tunnels. His aching feet screamed Murder! but the screams went by largely ignored.

His feet's opinion had never been a point of much interest to Garion.

He ground his heel on an unoffending rock, then peered ahead, squinting warily.

He'd long drained his little oil-lamp of fuel, but even without its shine he hadn't shied from the dark. He'd stared it down. He'd glared stubbornly till the blackness thinned into grey, grey – into shades of blue, and those – into blurry shapes of sharp-edged stone. Soon enough, the darkness had held no more secrets for him. He'd found it a relief.

The darkness, needless to say, felt contrary. It's a timid thing; it much prefers its secrets uncovered.

That could be why it threw something else than itself at Garion.

An obstacle harder to scare off. A beast of a common kind.
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File 131051875497.jpg - (169.43KB, 812x1300, 9cdc6d3edc74e32a49a77e8083f3c729.jpg) [iqdb]
Good lord, you're daft. Also, I fucked your touhoe.

Oh wait, what's this? A picture of Tenshi? GASP! I wonder what this means!
File 131052397757.jpg - (448.89KB, 792x1538, 20072949.jpg) [iqdb]
Does it mean Tenshi is awesome? I think it does.
Be a gentleman and finish what you started.

And, I'm not a writer myself, I don't know what motivates you to write. But I know if I'd get to write, I'll write for myself, for my own amusement.

Fuck the haters.

And damn, I had this bookmarked since a few weeks ago, and just now read it all in one sitting. Wonderful.

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Sinister and malevolent, our minds to be.

=1st Part=: >>2303
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File 13061581076.gif - (135.67KB, 320x200, snoop_car.gif) [iqdb]
When the pimp's in the crib ma...
File 130619476162.png - (11.38KB, 429x410, 1293483277940.png) [iqdb]
That's a joke, right?
The protagonist's name is Surt.

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For as long as she could remember, Orin had been good at handling people. Dead people. All of whom she would handle straight into the Hell of Blazing Fires. That was what she did. It was her job. Her history was long and storied, and the vast majority of those stories involved corpses, fires, and the subsequent combination of the two. Those two things were the tools of her trade.

She was not sure what to do when all she had was one. Other than feel awkward.

"Hi there, little guy."

The small child she held aloft over her head made no reply, simply dangling there in his too-large clothes, his dark eyes staring at her from behind the messy tangle of his dark hair. Small beads of sweat rolled down her pale skin as she felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers. Her vibrant red hair began to fritz, slowly unraveling one of her twin braids as her large, black, feline ears began to droop. Gradually it occurred to her that, in accidentally dragging a living person down to Hell and nearly tossing him into a flaming pit, she might have been a bad girl.

She whimpered a little. She had to make sure Satori didn't find out!

"Hey," she stuttered, smiling weakly at the little boy. "You must be a tough little guy, so I bet you'll be okay while I figure out what to do with you, right?"

The boy stared into her dark red eyes. She stared into his. His breathing stayed calm. She heaved a sigh of relief.

Then she nearly fumbled him right into the pit as he burst out crying.

Instinctively she pulled him close before he could fall, and jumped back from the pit, falling flat on her ass. A string of vague nonsense and pleas for him to be quiet poured from her mouth, but she had only the barest idea of what she was saying, only the barest idea of what to do. Panic surged within her. She didn't know what to do with a child! Not a living one! She needed help! She needed... she needed...

"Master Satori! Help!"

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry as s
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Because when I click that button on my browser that brings me to Touhou-Project and I see that list of newly bumped threads and a story I really like and would love to see more of is on there after a long time of no updates, I make an assumption.
Sure enough it's probably not a smart assumption, but it comes from that little part of me that always holds out hope that something good is about to happen. It comes crashing out of the cage of logic after breaking the padlock of pattern recognition and causes me to have a little moment of happiness, and with my heart all gooey and ripe from hope and joy I click on that link only to have the bitter cold taste of disappointment shoved down my throat.
That is why we don't bump threads pointlessly.
File 131105611878.jpg - (465.82KB, 1200x1696, 1311055180857.jpg) [iqdb]
You don't fool me, patchwork. I know you're here!
File 131180248770.jpg - (1.01MB, 1415x2000, Bringing_Up_A_Child_of_Crow_008.jpg) [iqdb]
You don't fool me, patchwork. I know you're here!

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It is high time to perform this ritual. I have delayed it for too long. There are no excuses this time. My foster parents are away with my step-sister and I have access to the secret basement.

Tonight we have a total lunar eclipse and father always said it is good for magic rituals. That is the reason they are away, too.
Saturn is properly aligned and Mars won’t make any trouble this time. Maybe Pluto could do something… no, the poor little dwarf planet will have little impact on my magic tonight.
Is snow still falling outside? Oh yes, it is! It is snowing! I have noticed that my powers increase during any kind of precipitation.
Conditions could hardly be more ideal!

I rush downstairs into the basement with everything I need. My supplies were stored in a large box under my bed.
That is the only place where my neurotic mother doesn’t check every Sunday.
First I have to draw the circle with crayons and fresh blood, just like the old book says. I’m using pig blood. We keep it in larger quantities in the fridge for my younger sister. I still can’t believe she is experimenting with vampirism… it was probably because she read that novel.
The circle is drawn. I paid great attention to the details because some demons are greatly angered if you draw the circle badly.
I’m using a universal circle that can be used for practically any demon in existence. Well, you should draw the higher demon’s personal circles if you want any real favor from them.
I light vermillion red candles, one by one, then I turn out the lights. These candles are infused with magical powders that are usually used in potions and other magical stuff. This makes them glow brighter and fill the air with magical particles that smell like decaying flowers…
Now the only things missing are the clean papyrus in the center and my blood on it, then I can begin chanting.

No, there are two major things missing. An offering must be made for the summoned demon! What would be an appropriate gift? I do not possess anything great, except for this little piece of jewelry… my silver demonic earring… well bugger. I should have thought about the gift earlier! It doesn’t matter now, t
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>please use sage

...Come on. Really?
In his defence, his askance of saging was conditioned to cases where people are asking for writer to come back. As he wasn't doing that, technically he wasn't required to sage himself, at least within his own ruleset.
You're right. I guess there is a tiny, tiny chance that someone might update before I hit the reply button.

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...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
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I'm happy to say I wasn't forced to become a part of...all that, whatever you want to call it. It occurs to me that as pessimistic as I always allow myself to become about Christmas, it still has all the wonderful things that Thanksgiving does when the day finally arrives. It also occurs to me that the more I think about what to write for DIG, the more my mind wanders back to CFA - my plans for it now extend past the Moriya, past the tengu, and to the fringes of what is to come afterward, alongside many long-term goals which may or may not happen at all. DIG, meanwhile, has about what it had when I started.

I don't want to say this story is going on hiatus, but I'm going to stop trying to write concurrently quite so cleanly and instead focus on whatever I happen to be focused on. This is, I hope you understand, an experiment - writing a CYOA at all still feels foreign to me, what with my roots in short stories. If it happens that my forcing myself to write both is what their survival depends on, then I will again rethink my approach.

Honestly, though, I just want to stop writing status updates and start writing actual updates. Pangs of guilt run through my heart when I'm made to explain my failures; these are as much flagellation as they are...word. Fuck. I had a good groove going there, too.
Well, I understand it can be hard to get used to. But, as long as you don't give up, humans can adapt to anything.
That sentence came out weird. Anyway, looking forward to the next (status?) update.
Necromancer Orin is awesome. I hope you have the time and motivation to continue this sooner or later.

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(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
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Forever unupdated.
Why did I have to read this?.

Waiting warmly in despair.
>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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