Previous Thread: >>19231

[x] Confess your undying love to Kaguya

Your heart beats fast and feels like it's about to explode as you finish uttering those magical words. The world seems to freeze, your every thought a struggle. Kaguya, her closeness, her appearance, you hungrily try to absorb her every detail. It feels like an eternity before time begins to move again.

You watch as her expression changes into the sweetest smile you've ever seen. It gives you hope, enough to justify your whole existence until that point in time. Her radiance is absolute, majestic even. Calling her angelic would be an understatement, her incorruptible pure essence is worth waging wars for; All the evil in the world is justified, if only to balance out her sublime perfection.

Her reply comes softly, her words come at you like sweet delicious honey, soothing mind and soul. The high you experience is something else altogether.

“So that's how you honestly feel? I had more than a feeling that that was the way it was.” Every words seems to caress you, soothe your aching heart. “You took so long to admit it too, you're such an idiot. An unforgivable idiot. If you had just held me earlier then...”

You mind plays a thousand and one scenarios simultaneously. The projections in your head all compete for best picture and best actors. It's hard to decide just which of your fantasies would be best. Kaguya seems more than eager to steer you to the right one, something for which you are very grateful.

She leans in closer, making you painfully aware of her intoxicating scent. The smell of freshness, of life, of the very core of vitality. In a nutshell, her own distinctive natural aroma. Now, more than ever, you simply want to drown yourself in it. To take and indulge like a madman without a care in the world. If it would only be yours for a moment you would die a happy man. It's the most anyone could ask.

“You see, Shirou,” She states with the same wholesome love you've come to know and enjoy over the past few weeks, “The truth is that you don't have the foggiest about how I've really felt. During this trip, during all

Hello everyone! Please let me introduce myself. My name is KT, and I've been quietly lingering around this board for about four and a half years. For a while, I've been thinking about writing a story with Mokou in first person narrative, so I thought I'd do just that. This will be a fairly slow paced story, and I may even switch around a bit with other characters, but the whole thing should come together within the same setting. Anyway, I'm a bit of a newbie when it comes to writing stories, but that's enough about me. Putting my petty rambling about nonsense aside, this is a story I'll try to write while abiding as much to canon-like personalities as I can and trying to introduce various elements and ideas. Moving on.. Onto the show!
Please wait warmly while I get the popcorn..
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"Do you think we should bring her with us?"
"Well, she's only a child. She won't be much of a threat. And it's a long trip down. Not to mention, she's nearly completely exhausted."
"Did she come alone?"
"Girl, what's your name?"
I thought I recognized one of those men's voice. I open my eyes to see a huddle of men above me behind a gray sky, but the sudden light made it hard for my eyes to adjust and the contrast made them look like faceless men staring down at me. One of them helped me up, and another offered me a waterskin. I didn't want to drink water though, it was already chilly and drinking water would make me feel colder, but I could feel my body begging of thirst. I thanked him and reluctantly took a few sips while the men waited for an answer from me.
"I'm a bandit."
I couldn't give them my real name. After all, if they found out that me, a child of the Huziwara clan, disobediently left home and ran out to the mountain, the news would surely spread to my father. It's already bad enough that I ran out, but he will be really mad if anyone found out that I'm Fuhito's daughter.
When I said that, they were puzzled at first and then laughed. I don't blame them. Just the idea is laughable

I’ve been wanting to try my hand at this CYOA thing for quite a while, but never had the confidence to actually do it.

I’ve finally found the guts to post this, so... let’s see how this turns out.

⑨⑨⑨⑨⑨⑨⑨⑨⑨

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“We thought we could get our hands on something we couldn’t possibly fathom.”

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You place the last item. “Perfect” is the only word that comes to your mind.

A wiser man might have had a better solution. A wiser man might have known how and when to act, how to get to the real center of it all.

Even though you have not abandoned your goal, it seems awfully unobtainable at the moment. It would make you want to sigh, perhaps, if you hadn't been inoculated against this very kind of situation. Incident after incident with everything seemingly out of your control has made your hide tough indeed. There's always a method to the madness, you know at least that much, and so you can take comfort in that as long as you keep trying there's a chance that you'll find what you're looking for.

Kaguya seems so slender as she is now, her back pressed against you as you sit together with your arms around her waist. The smooth and fine fabric of her dress is loose around her delicate arms and the outside drapes down to her lap. The collar, as well, has been carelessly left to droop and from your angle you can see the symmetrical lines of her neck blend into those of her collarbone and transform yet again into other lines that vanish into the darkness of her clothes. She gives the same impression as a porcelain doll wearing an ill-fitting dress.

Her head leans back onto your chest, her body sinking deeper into yours. The rich smell of oily minerals and scented herbs waft from her hair to your nose. It's a fragrance that continues to be highly stimulating even as it becomes more familiar. You squeeze her gently, holding her in a way you hope is reassuring. She's incredibly warm, it bleeds through her clothes straight into your arms and your chest. It wouldn't be right to compare her to a doll - no matter how delicate and fine her features may be she is too warm and soft for you to ever confuse her for one. There's an unmistakable feeling of human presence and human life which resonate with your heart.

She is quiet now.

It took her the better part of an afternoon to vent. There's no better way of describing what she did than that. Plenty of words wasted on the small things and minor incidents that, by themselves, do not signify much. Actions fitting a concerned friend or perhaps an overbeari

The site is back, more or less, so with that, I move back to the normally scheduled board. Previous votes still count, which means that there's still a tie; and having caught up with everything, I do believe I am a gigantic lazy asshole. Apologies wouldn't really cut it.

But with that said, message finally continues:

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“It has, Your Majesty…” you breathe, and as Princess Kaguya starts to toy with your hair, you slip further into that sunlight bliss. Soft, curious teasing fingers… it feels good. Tingly, warm and slow washing all over.

The last time, you recall, was six years ago. She was sadder then, but she hid her feelings, burying them in some unfathomable place, so that only if you looked hard you might find a hint in her voice, in the way she would look at you, into you – and because she was like that, you could always be at ease at her side. At a time like then, when the sky echoed with the whispers and screams of the dead and dying and killed by your hands, when the things in your nightmares were you and your sisters, there was someone else like that. Kaguya. Kaguya, lord God over all, the Empress to who we all belong.

In the present, her skin is pale. Pale, creamy white, alien and familiar at once; and when her hand grazes yours, you shiver warm white hot. Her Majesty. Her Majesty, who you now loom over, whose careful, needy touch you know by instinct. Slipping into your lap.

Into your –

“P-princess…”

Yes, it has a title now.
Previous >>16979
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Time spent in solitude was like a curse. It made me very much aware of how sore my body was still. It rotted my mind. I felt dumb whenever I was not talking to Eirin. A type of occurrence that, because of circumstances beyond of my control, became grittingly rare. I was left to my own devices for the most part, left to wallow by myself in the long and arduous process that was recovery from near death. Time lost much of its meaning during this period, with the days being defined by the meals and the occasional bedside visits.

I busied myself, whenever I could muster the courage, with childish games of cards and base sketches of whatever might have happened to catch my eye. My main intellectual escape was a book given to me by the physician, of matters regarding the body and its condition. It was dense, not entirely to my interest, but it was something I could distract myself with. And beyond that it was something that lessened the dullness that came from realizing that I could not hold fascinating discussions as I had only a few days prior.

In a very real sense, my recovery stalled. There was nothing physically impeding me from healing but I somehow knew that my body was not performing as well as it could be. My mood soured and my outlook darkened. Time ebbed away too slowly. I annoyed me. I cursed my inability to mellow out. And my dreams became increasingly disturbed.

Darkness, being lost or being confused – all standard scenarios in my dreams. The wet feeling of rain, drenching me wherever I went, no matter I did. It was only when I woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night that I realized that I was, in fact, having a nightmare. I didn't know why I was having those dreams and I attributed to the general malaise that was affecting me.

“Want some company?” The eternally smiling assistant asked after dropping off breakfast. The rest of the night had been sleepless, with my tossing and turning only limited by the soreness felt by my joints.

“...” I couldn't be bothered to answer her, my mind was

New to the site, new to the touhous, but I want to try my hand at this CYOA thing.

Care to try your luck, anon?

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“Look, Christina, I- no, no, I understand.” The railing burns my hand, but it doesn’t hurt as much as the one clutching my cell phone. Sunlight splashes on my sleeves… it feels like, insects crawling across my skin.

Why is it so bright today, I wonder.

“…How is he doing?” The phone chatters into my ear – the volume’s set way too high, and I mishear her through the blaring noise. I must have misheard. Even though I know I didn’t. “I have a fucking right to know, Christina!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to prevent the headache I already have.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you, I just-” He’s my son too; but, I can’t bring myself to say it. I’d make a god-awful father, so it’s really for the best. The phone seems to agree with me when the call ends, in that abrupt way only cell phones can manage.

I am not a psychologist. My expertise has always rested in the pharmaceutical arena,
where causality is complex but consistent. Believing that a person can ever completely
understand another, regardless of how meticulously the study is executed, is folly. Insight
may be gleaned, at best.

However, the mind is part of the body. As convenient as segregation of the two would
be, there is no vacuum seal. Unknowns such as psychoimmunology can always raise their head
and scramble expectations. And so as I refine my chosen craft, insight from another field
comes unbidden to me.

The Doll's poisons are exquisite. Such efficacy rivals the best the moon has ever
produced, and it is fabricated in ignorance. As she gains experience and
understanding of her inborn craft, her efforts will surpass all competitors. If I can keep
her here, willing to provide me with samples of her latest works, my capacity to treat
poisons will be similarly peerless.

Hia /eientei/, I'm not sure where this came from. But I've been browsing this place for a while now and decided why not? I've not the best writer, but I don't intend on making this go on for too long.
Anyway enjoy!~

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It's cold, colder than even you are comfortable with. Hunting during this time of the year is unthinkable, even for you.

However you've hunted in this forest in winter before, hell you've hunted in this forest your entire life! Though there isn't as much to be hunted. The tracks in the snow are freshly made, the heavy snowfall last night left it much easier to track something that came by recently.

You sling your bow over your shoulder, you check your quiver making sure you have all your arrows.

14 Regular, nothing special medium quality arrows- you don't mind wasting a few of these since they are pretty cheap, but they serve their purpose.

6 High Quality, specially crafted arrows. Your teacher gave you these arrows before she left. She taught you a lot of things, hell she practically raised you and your little sister. You don't wish to waste these.