The soothing sound of scoring pen against paper is the only noise that can be heard in my room. Too early in the morning for the birds to be chirping. Lit only by the nearby candles, I work. I hasten the strokes created by my hand as I see the final sentences approaching. Finally finished. I take one last glance at the page to ensure that there are no more errors. Fully satisfied, I place it inside an envelope and securely seal it with candle wax. A simple engraved stamp lets the receiver recognize the sender.

Dawn will break soon and there are plenty of tasks left before I can send this off at the human village. So I hide my creation away safely inside the folds of my clothes, close to my chest so I can always feel the faint edges to the paper. Done. I mentally check off the completed step. Next on the list is cooking breakfast. And so, I make my way to the kitchen with soft footsteps. Traversing the halls always gives me spare time to think, this time my mind wanders on how pointless it is to take so much care in my footing. Even if I ran loudly, stomping my feet, I doubt that it would even bother those two.

The kitchen comes into view and I quickly begin my practiced preparations. Gather ingredients, gather equipment, and start a fire. All mechanical and methodical. Soon the air is filled with the alluring scent of grilled fish. It is a good morning to have fish along with some soup and rice. I set the table and examine the placement. Perfect, all I need now are the dreamers to take a seat. If I let them sleep all day there is no doubt they would waste it all away.

However, I take some satisfaction to see their rousing faces. Before their food grows completely cold I'll give them some assistance. Who to see first? There is a chance that I'll only get to wake one of them up.

[]Wake Lady Yukari first.
[]Wake Chen first.

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For the celebration of writing, ideas, and this site. >>/gensokyo/13978

Konpaku Youmu is a a half-ghost gardener. She is also a samurai. Youmu lives in the ghost princess' mansion, surrounded by ghost.

Youmu is scared of ghost.


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You are Saigyouji Yuyuko, and you are Youmu's Spooky Ghost Boss Princess.

You must SPOOK Youmu to celebrate Western Holidays you don't fully understand, but appreciate regardless.


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Taking a deep breath, a man stepped up to the tee. His full attention was on the small dimpled ball in front of him. His knuckles grew white as he tightened his grip on the club’s leather grip. Hatred for this stupid game flowed through him, sliding down his arms into the driver he was strangling.

“Just need one good hit...” he mumbled to himself, glancing up to the flag waving in the breeze. He swallowed to clear his mouth and shifted his feet before pulling the club up behind his head. “FORE!” he yelled, bringing the club down on the ball. The swing connected, sending the ball flying through the air, and right into the hole the flag occupied.

The reaction was nearly immediate, the man feeling his heart take off. His first hole in one, done in what would possibly be the most important game of his career. He turned to his companions, smiling from ear to ear. If only he had paid a little more attention, he might have heard the sound of a golf ball being hit in his direction.

The golfer behind the ball was sure his target wouldn’t hear it though. In his experience, people rarely pulled their head from their ass long enough to hear death coming. Even when he was yelling a warning at the top of his lungs, everyone seemed to treat his arrival as unexpected.

“My bad,” the golfer said as he walked up to the new ‘de-bodied’ spirit he had hit. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me. Something like ‘What was the meaning in my life?’ ‘Who the hell are you?’ and the ever popular ‘What was the meaning of either my life or life in general?’ but can we save it for the girl back at the office? You’re the last spirit for today, and in a sentence I will never say again, I’m looking forward to getting today’s paperwork done.”

The spirit looked to the man with the nine iron, then to his body, then to the man again, then at his friends who were crowding around them. “Wait, you mean I’m dead? I’m not supposed to die yet!”

“The list says otherwise. Now either take my hand,” the golfer said with a sigh, “or I get to test how sharp my new whetstone makes this.” Before the spirit could wonder what in the world this

Ran Yakumo set her half-moon glasses on her nose and sat down in her chair. All nine of her furry yellow fox-tails swished aimlessly as she stared at her typewriter, hands poised over the keys. She bit her lip, hemming and humming to herself as the bright white page stood still in its spool. Her tails curled around the back of the chair as thoughts came to her. She began to write.

'It's said the benefit of being a pessimist is that you are always either correct or pleasantly surprised. Let it be said that where it concerns Reimu Hakurei and her capability as a shrine maiden, I am in such a position. If I am right I will be able to shove this in Yukari's face several decades from now, and if I am wrong I will be relieved to throw it away.'

'This issue is resistant to usual forms of analysis, spanning not only centuries but also dimensions. It could be said that there are many beginnings to this story.'

Ran stopped typing, sighed, and took off her glasses. Two paragraphs in and she was already fiddling around, talking about how hard this would be to write instead of writing it. She had to put her fears aside and just choose a start. Forming a half-decent narrative could come later. She set her glasses back on her face and cracked her knuckles.

[ ] Where things went wrong: the previous Miko's regime
[ ] Why they went wrong: it started with a telegram line
[ ] What Yukari did about it: Reimu's not her real name

BGM: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DuDaBgrRqj8

Despite technology coming so far, it's yet to completely muffle the sound of the tracks as a passenger train barrels down them.

This pure and simple noise has drawn your traveling companion to sleep with its soft repetition. Her head eases onto your shoulder while your eyes scan the landscape that passes swiftly by.

Things have changed in this mere half year. The countryside loosely resembles the suburbs now, though it's only a partial likeness. Farmland and dirt roads remain, hardly bothered by the small neighborhoods near them.

The sun, barely peeking over the horizon, makes a red splotch blend into a brightening blue sky. Unable to sleep last night, you merely sat where you were and watched the sky grow steadily brighter. A meager number of clouds dot the sky, spread out irregularly over the area you can see. A fellow traveler is woken from her slumber, and looks at you with aged eyes as she collects herself.

"...It really is a wonderful thing, riding on the train." The old woman smiles at you from a seat opposite to your own. "My husband and I always rode the train when we were younger, but now most people ride in cars or planes. The sky is still beautiful, though. Despite the planes and lights."

You smile politely towards the small woman, trying to not offend her while not talking to her. Sunlight pours in from behind her, framing her small form as she speaks.

"It's relaxing. This ride wouldn't be as nice if the sky was littered with planes and jets."

“I want a house.”

It was cool by the lake of blood. There were no clouds, and the moon was missing. It would be for a couple more nights before it began creeping back out of its own shadow. Or something like that. Until then, only the light of the stars was there to break the darkness. Did a poor job of it, but it didn’t need to do much more. Youkai eyes and all.

“Actually, no. I want a mansion. I can’t have them showing me up, after all.”

Kurumi was in good form after her meal. The topic of homes and lakes and vampires hadn’t come up during their dinner, but it didn’t matter. She’d found her way to the topic on her own, and now there probably wouldn’t be an end to it until twilight came and shoved the vampire back underground. Annoying.

Well, there was leaving, but it would take her even longer to drop it the next time.

“I don’t think you need to be worrying about that.” The surface of the lake rippled slightly as my feet brushed against it. I wouldn’t bother most nights, since blood’s a pain to get off if you get too much on, and the lake stinks if you break it. But I wasn’t really dipping in, and I was restless anyway. Maybe a touch nervous. Kurumi getting ideas is bothersome at best.

“No? Well, I suppose you’re allowed.” She fluttered over, landing just beside me. Sort of. She was doing that thing where she wasn’t actually supporting any weight with her feet. Why bother when you can just float a little? “You don’t have to maintain your image.”

“You don’t have to either, you know.” It wasn’t as if there was anyone watching. Ever.

Thread one: >>28011

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[X] Dignified surrender - It's over, might as well get out when you can with some face left.
Sorry guys, I have to discount this option in light of us failing to realize all the danmaku grenade effects in the last segment, and because if we were going to surrender, we would have used a plain old painkiller. Also, as this is literally just a play-fight, the MC really has no reason to not go for broke. A subverted vote such as this SHOULD not happen again.

[x] Bayonet Run

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Thirty seconds...

You drop the MAT-49 and the air rifle, as well as most of the grenades on your belt, leaving just the two thermobarics and a single acid bomb in. Turning towards Futo, you grin as you draw your pistol with your left hand and the knife with your right. Before she can react, you charge, clearing the relatively small distance between you two with normally superhuman speed and vaulting over the prow of the boat, firing off orb shots with your M1911 all the way. In a lunging maneuver, you swing the knife towards her jugular vein, missing as she quickly ducks and counters with a punch in the stomach, knocking you overboard and back onto the ground. Her sword, for whatever reason, seems to have disappeared.

"....And before you all go, I'd just like to remind you that your term papers are due next time we meet. No fewer than twenty pages, remember! This is worth a quarter of your final grade, so take it seriously!" You professor proceeds to glare fiercely at your classmates, as they chat amongst themselves and pack their things up.

Very few of them take note, and even fewer really care.

...You, however, are on the verge of panic. Since, you know. This is literally the first time you've ever heard of this paper at all.

...And holy shit, if you lose that many points off your grade, your scholarship's sunk. ...And if you lose your scholarship, and end up having to go home...

'Literal murder' would probably be a good description of your family's reaction. They never were very accepting of failure. To say the least.

Your head strikes the surface of your desk with a loud thud, as you take a moment and allow your self-pity to consume you. You're going to need to go on the run. Change your name, leave the country, maybe work on a freighter for a while. As long as you don't use your real name, and switch ships a couple times, it'll be pretty hard to track you down. Maybe one day, they'll stop looking for you...

"...Um, are you alright?" A concerned voice breaks into your reverie, as your father's agents finally locate your new family, living under an assumed name.

"...what?" You ask, dully, lifting your face to meet the worried gaze of your professor.

Orders, orders. Always bloody orders. Deliver this, break that. Never time to rest, never time to reflect. Only those insistent orders.

Your current orders were to infiltrate the building, carefully edit some data in their database, and return home unobserved.

It had almost gone perfectly. Getting in had been a trivial matter of engineering multiple 'false' alarms, and then waiting for the security to leave. The actual hacking was child's play compared to what you were capable of, but an unfortunate spark had caused a fire and you had been spotted escaping the burning building.

Hiding in the forest on the outskirts of the city, the sounds of the search all around you. The security firm apparently wants me dead, while the police want me for arson of all things. Just wonderful. Right now being anywhere else seems like a good idea, and with that thought lingering in my head I feel a pull through a place that should not be before tumbling out onto a misty riverbank. As the rift snaps shut I feel my connection to the outside cut, and my vision begins to fade. The last thing I see is the river rise to meet me, and sparks echo in the blankness of my head.

My last order rises in my memory. Return home.

**********

I pick myself up off the cold damp ground, and brush the dirt and stones off face.

Looking around in the darkness, I see shapes begin to form as my vision adapts. Neat gaps between perfectly trimmed shrubs, shadows of cherry trees rising proud over islands of vegetation.

Being a second son really isn’t as bad as it’s made out to be.

Ichiro, he has First Son Things he has to do. He has to learn to smelt. He has to learn to forge. He has to learn to track requests, and inventory, and accounts. Poor guy has to inherit.

You, on the other hand, are simply expected to avoid bringing shame on the family. If you wanted, you could study alongside your brother, or train to join the village guard, or work at old Murata’s noodle cart. Hell, if you didn’t have a dream to chase, you would be working at old Murata’s cart for sure; the old man doesn’t have any heirs, and it would be a shame to let his accumulated expertise with bowl and broth simply go to waste when age finally catches up with him.

A damn shame. That old fogey is a culinary miracle worker. His kitsune udon is so unbelievably delicious that you’ve actually had conversations with youkai over it. Terrifyingly powerful youkai, at that.

Maybe if he’s still around when you’ve secured eternity for yourself, you can learn his recipes.

But that’s the important part, isn’t it? It’s the reason you didn’t learn the ways of the noodleman (shame it’s not the time for one more bowl), the reason you aren’t studying steel (making it or breaking it, they still come down to the same thing), the reason you left home (hopefully there will be time to write to mother and father) and made your way here. To these gates that are nowhere and everywhere, appearing and disappearing with a pattern and schedule that few understand. The way the said it, figuring out where to find the damn things was the first test for prospective apprentices.

It’s a good thing the residents of the gate’s other side announced themselves to Gensokyo. You doubt your family would have reacted well had you sought assistance from the scattered magicians of the land, or those strange Buddhist monsters.

“You’re seriously taking them up on it?”