[x] "Consider it punishment, for almost making both our hearts stop down there."
[x] Snatch the stunned girl, and drag her outside - while the break is still in action, let you talk seriously and undisturbed. Specifically about that token.

[x] "Consider it punishment, for almost making both our hearts stop down there."
[x] Snatch the stunned girl, and drag her outside - while the break is still in action, let you talk seriously and undisturbed. Specifically about that token.

[x] "Consider it punishment, for almost making both our hearts stop down there."
[x] Snatch the stunned girl, and drag her outside - while the break is still in action, let you talk seriously and undisturbed. Specifically about that token.

[x] "Consider it punishment, for almost making both our hearts stop down there."
[x] Snatch the stunned girl, and drag her outside - while the break is still in action, let you talk seriously and undisturbed. Specifically about that token.

[x] "Consider it punishment, for almost making both our hearts stop down there."
[x] Snatch the stunned girl, and drag her outside - while the break is still in action, let you talk seriously and undisturbed. Specifically about that token.

>"Consider it punishment, for almost making both our hearts stop down there."

Bravo! You've just hit the very bullseye of the target I set up by making Aya mention her halted heartbeat. Look forward to using the same kind of line in different, much more pleasant circumstances~!

Five minutes, finalizing the post, as well as looking for an image.

[x] "Consider it punishment, for almost making both our hearts stop down there."
[x] Snatch the stunned girl, and drag her outside - while the break is still in action, let you talk seriously and undisturbed. Specifically about that token.

Doesn't that sound familiar, now, the hearts stopping all of a sudden thanks to each others' playful excesses, one more perilous than the other. Aya waves her palm at her chin, bringing order back to the shaking body - must have given her one hell of a scare, jumping out like an Alien, from literally behind her - while you continue smiling to yourself, happy about the opportunity to see Aya out of the lead at least for once.
"Consider it," Says you, and her eyes immediately grace you with their attention. "Punishment. For almost making both our hearts stop down there."
But instead of malice and spite, so expected from the whimsical director, all that comes is a baffled, confused face, its beautiful lips set ajar, white, cute teeth glancing from inside, as Aya gapes in awe - perhaps - at the possibly inapposite comment. Nevertheless, expecting no more at the moment from a shocked girl, you leap instead, step hastily to her side, and grab a hold of her wrist - which triggers the fingers releasing the printout to its freedom.
"Wha--"
"For a moment."
You croak back, and before the paper hits the ground, the folding doors already swing close behind your backs, to the gathered's bewilderment.

"Wait-- Wait, I say!"
Outside, in the calm, almost stale privacy of the corridor, the two of you stop - by Aya's notion - by a wall, and exchange glances - yours, persistently amused; and hers - all the same at sea. To what could remotely be seen as disappointment, she yanks the hand you've been holding out of your grasp, and harshly, as though it returned the everyday mettle to her head, snaps at you, stepping forth an inch or two, shooting a finger at your chin from beneath. It stops millimeters from your jaw, and animated by your stupefied blinking, squints her eyes, glaring in yours with vicious grudge.
So much for bearing the baton. The girl doesn't even let you mutter a word, the moment you open your mouth, stepping even further, driving her heel - sneaker-plated only, but quite painful regardless - into your poor foot. The teeth that looked so sweet and cute not thirty seconds ago suddenly loom with sinister shadow of a sabre-tooth tiger.
"So~... What was important enough to tear me away from my work, sweetheart~?" Her voice is so sweet, that given enough heat, it could easily be made into toffi bars. The finger till now safely away, begins drilling in your lower jaw like a dentist's bore, the nail being the ominously sharpened tip. "Not to mention I told you specifically not to exert yourself, hm~?"
"You--" Your throat attempts to spew, but ends up swallowing the words, as well as saliva instead. Looks like the time to gather up is finally at hand, you bundle of jitters, doesn't it? The baton's still in motion, and only by grabbing her nosy hand and forcing it to descent to a safe zone at Aya's tummy can you try to steal it back away. Her eyes retreat a little, but only they - the rest of the body persistently keeps on driving your foot into the floor. "You tell me."
"Hm?" Once again, she hums an illegible question.
"Apparently I was supposed to be enjoying a token I had grabbed from the waterworks." Ah, finally a reaction foretelling your victory - Aya's eyes change for a brief moment, falling into the abyss of a liar's despair, but soon resurface, adorning a look of innocent confusion. "But lo and behold, someone evidently took it in my sleep, seeing as I couldn't find it anywhere in my room..."
"What are you talking about?" A wry smile stretches her lips. Ding, ding, ding - tolls the scoreboard. Finally getting ahead of the insuperable girl, you can't help but return the smile - in a much clearer, victorious manner. "What token--"
"Aya," And cut her words short like the Liberum Veto rule incarnate. "Don't play stupid. We're both in this, you and I - and I'd rather know as many details as possible."
Finally realizing the futility of keeping the play alive, she backs away, setting your foot free at last, and biting her lips, first in many days visibly troubled. Is it a good, or a bad thing - there's no way to tell. The fact stands either way - she tried to hide a thing, and had it discovered sooner than expected. Obviously she'd be frustrated, no?
"It's nothing important." She says, taking that wry smile back up again. "Just a souvenir, so that I wouldn't--"
"Aya."
"Urk." She winces under your scowl. Aya! - winces under YOUR scowl! Truly, today's atmosphere seems to be a favourable one for taming the wildest of female beasts. "Okay, I get it, I get it." She waves a hand in front of her face, as if to shoo the stare of your eyes away. "Geez, that's why I wanted you to stay in your room. Fiddlesticks."
"Well?" You urge further, cocking your head to the side. "What is it?"
"Ah, er, well..." Aya rolls her eyes, chuckling like a corrupt politician in the face of his underling superintendent, caught hands hot. "I left it in my room, and we're all a little busy now, so... Ahaha, sorry, sorry." Once again, that distressed wave. "Later, okay? We're in the middle of a shot at the moment."
"Weren't you pretty much taking a break?"
"Ugh." Flinch again is what she does, looking away to avoid your glare, or simply admiring the stuccowork on the walls. "We're just waiting for our cameraman to return. He should be back any second now."


[ ] "He's got company to keep, I'm afraid. Lead the way, Aya - I'll be right behind you."
[ ] "Ehh. Very well, if it's so much of a problem... But don't count on me to forget, okay?"
[ ] "If it's so crucial for you to say, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"
[ ] "Just tell me what it is, and let's save the visual impressions for later."

>>18383

[x] Get a running start.
[x] "If it's so crucial for you to say, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"

[x] Get a running start.
[x] "If it's so crucial for you to say, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"

RUNNING MAN.

>>18383
[X] Get a running start.
[X] "If it's so crucial for you to say, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"

This just turned into a thinly veiled excuse to go on a panty raid, didn't it?

[x] Get a running start.
[x] "If it's so crucial for you to say, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"

[x] "He's got company to keep, I'm afraid. Lead the way, Aya - I'll be right behind you."
[x] "NOW".

>>18372
I now want a lot more to get back together with Moukou and get her to stop smoking. Or at least have Kaguya get her to stop towards the end if we don't get on that route. Replace it with gum, or something.

YAF, I know you can pour as much moe into such situations as humanly possible. I can't really express what I'm thinking into words too well, but I'm sure you get the idea. Maybe 'Becker' would be a half-way decent example.

[x] Get a running start.
[x] "If it's so crucial for you to say, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"

{X} Get a running start.
{X} "If it's so crucial for you to stay, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"

Hm. Torturing the keyboard as we speak.
Usual ten minutes.

[x] Get a running start.
[x] "If it's so crucial for you to say, I might as well go through your things on my own. Arrivederci!"

Any second or not, she hasn't been torn away from mutating Kaguya's script for naught - and these circumstances are way to beneficial to go to waste. Not to mention she evidently owes you an explanation for spreading lies - hopefully it's only miss Keine who's been fed an Irish bull steak, because if not... This could most certainly get ugly. Too bad she has to stand there apparently unaware of the consequences you might be forced to face if the supposed evidence in your unbeknown possession draws the attention of the policemen - and the sooner you solve this matter, the better. That she's actively avoiding your eyes - no matter, it only allows you to spin right round unnoticed - or at least until you throw a relaxed line over your shoulder.
"If it's so crucial for you to stay--" Aya can only gape in shock as you take off the soft carpet and start the flight back towards familiar shores - she doesn't even scream for you to wait, or anything. "I might as well go through your things on my own! Arrivederci!"
The last word reaches her when you launch yourself down a stairway, heading back where you came from before, only to watch the same draperies dash by again, followed not even by the echo of your own footsteps, let alone an additional pair.
No matter - the creaking of the stairs serves well as the background noise, as you make haste to Aya's room - back in the 'regular' wing of the hotel.

(...)


However ridiculous your claim may have been, though - the last stop at the point of destination reveals that the whimsical director hasn't been following you at all. Odd, if anything - usually such things would get her blood running twice the pace in a matter of seconds.
Out of breath, you find yourself almost falling over when bending down to put your hands on your knees, and take a handful of wholesome breaths. More exertion, just what you needed - if it keeps up like this, you might as well book a trip to hell already.
"Haah... haah..."
Plus the damn girl is nowhere to be seen. Either there's something going on outside your range of comprehension, or she really doesn't care much about you going through her possessions. Which is unlikely, if anything. But here comes an unexpected noise - a sound of someone walking from upstairs, where glancing in the general direction reveals it to actually be two people - familiar people, at that. Kourin and miss Keine stroll down the stairway side to side, and seeing you, cease their silent conversation. The teacher gives you a scornful, yet somewhat worried glance, crossing arms on her chest.
"And what have you been doing? You're red all over."
"Just..." You barely manage to pant out an impromptu excuse. "Getting some... exercise..."
She shrugs, in that strange, eyes-only way of hers, as you try to pump the blood from your face back to the rest of the body. In vain, which is needless to say.
"Well," Keine mutters, resuming her walk down. "I won't force you to lay down, but don't be surprised if you collapse at Aya's party."
She may be genuinely concerned, but her words only graze past your ears - Kourin initiates eye contact, and flashes you a face that seems to be saying 'Seriously, what were you doing?'. You grimace back - 'Nothing at all.', to which he responds with the same face as Keine. The conversation continues though, as you slightly shift your shoulders, asking 'So? Have you apologized?'. Kourin nods. 'Sort of.'. Your lips stretch in a smile - always nice to see at least one person to have set things straight with his woman. 'I take it the stay upstairs in your room was a pleasant one, then?'. He rolls his eyes. 'Oh, spare me.'. The two of you share a mute salve of girlish giggling.
All without a word.
"Kourin, let's not keep her waiting." Keine urges, almost reaching for Kourin's hand, but quickly retreats, as though she's just noticed that someone else is looking. It would seem the things went farther than you'd previously expected. Blushing slightly, she settles for his shoulder instead. "Let's go, let's go."
Kourin shoots you a last, fleeting, satisfied glance before disappearing behind a corner.
Good, the hindrances gone, it is high time to proceed with the plan.

The plan that shatters into a dozen of shards when you pull the knob on Aya's door. Everything goes down the drain, to the last detail. Now you know - know exactly why she didn't give a chase.
The damn thing won't budge an inch. Jerking the handle does nothing - only a series of quiet screeches marks your pointless efforts.
Clawing at it with your fingers, you bang your head against the wooden surface. Obviously - both her and her friend are in the conference room, why would she leave the room open? Myschi has a spare set of keys anyway, if there was a need... So, you've been had, completely. By that selfish girl, nonetheless - yet another official failure to write down on the list of today's mishaps. Just how many more of them will befall your already damaged psyche today?
A muttered curse is all you manage whilst slowly slumping to the floor. The breathing has finally calmed down, but now you wish it hadn't - that way you'd at least have something to concentrate on, instead of contemplating this spectacular failure.

[ ] The Union of Actors is on strike, and they're blocking this very door, until they get a key. No retreat. No surrender.
[ ] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!
[ ] Mokou's had enough time to fill her tummy - and now it's time she paid back for your kindness. Preferably by beating your moron ass unconscious.
[ ] Cry yourself to sleep back on your own dominion - and for the love of everything holy - lock the door this time.

[x] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!

Yase.

[x] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!

Yes. Giving our bro confidence to make a move.

[ ] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!

[X] Mokou's had enough time to fill her tummy - and now it's time she paid back for your kindness. Preferably by beating your moron ass unconscious.

[x] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!

MYSCHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII~

>>18457
[X] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!

Time to whine pathetically (to the person with the keys) about the mean director lady.

[X] Mokou's had enough time to fill her tummy - and now it's time she paid back for your kindness. Preferably by beating your moron ass unconscious.

>>18464
Possible plan: borrow Myschi's keys for a little prank (she can, and should, come watch), wander back to the conference room Aya was working in (or where ever she is now; it was easy enough finding her the first time), get her attention, display keys, grin, and depart. We can give the keys back after that; the damage will have been done.

[x] Break that motherfucking door in. It's her fault, and you'll pay for it if you have to. But you need to know.

[x] Mokou's had enough time to fill her tummy - and now it's time she paid back for your kindness. Preferably by beating your moron ass unconscious.

hahaha, those options are awesome. i wish i could vote for them all

[x] Mokou's had enough time to fill her tummy - and now it's time she paid back for your kindness. Preferably by beating your moron ass unconscious.

This option makes me think of Mokou's tight stomach, and that is a very good thing.

[x] Shout loud enough that it echoes throughout the building.
[x] "I WILL GET INTO THIS ROOM, ONE WAY, OR ANOTHEEERRRR!!"

[x] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!

Delicious Myschi~

This is Alpha Two, we're in. I've got a visual on the Update Station. ETA for docking procedures: 10 minutes.

[x] Crash crying into Myschi's loving arms - she's the only ally you can count on now!

Trying to raise yourself yields no results - the sheer awareness of it being you alone who drove himself into this corner is overwhelming enough to pin your legs to the floor, wiping the head clean of any plans you might have had - a complete, self-assured defeat. Clawing at the door won't help, but it doesn't stop your hands from scratching it with their pleasantly aching nails - if they get any splinters stuck in them - the better! Punishment! - Punishment for the daft! If Knot had been such a moron, he would have not gotten into Le Blaze's pants - let alone her hideout! - now would he! Stupid, stupid, stupid!
That stupid brains of yours feels as though someone was stirring it up with a metal spoon when you bang it on the wooden surface, smirking at your own idiocy. Now, you only need to wait for Aya to spread the word. Just you wait - this evening, the highlight will be the lack of a single wit in your head! Everyone will laugh! Everyone! - Mokou, Kaguya, Aya, Kourin, Myschi--!
"Wait." You raise your head and squint your eyes, trying to ignore the pain in your fingers - and concentrate on that name. Myschi. Sure, aside from being a girl - a cute one, at that - she's also something else. A sexy girl, you'd ask? But of course she is, but the answer is different. You'd pucker your forehead and timidly suggest again - a cook? Close, yet not quite on the spot. Resignated, you'd then try the last remaining straw - a scrupulous charlady?
That's it! Bingo! Bullseye! There's still time to fix this laughably ludicrous error! Resurrected by the newly found hope, your legs return to life, and launch the rest of the body up. The vision may flicker black for a moment when you reach the beloved, vertical position; your balance may waver, but by your hand - Aya is going to get her ego cut down to size today. A size that won't tower over yours like Godzilla over Yamane in the first movie.
The stairs. The stairs is where you head, in hasty, wobbly step, and run down, down, down, to the ground floor, along the railing, like a trail to heaven - or hell - to where your personal saviour awaits.


Like an angel in an earthly shell, she's found on the regular spot, sporting the same, everyday outfit, that while being but a plain, brown apron, shines like a heavenly dress in your eyes. Myschi, in all her gleaming glory, bustles about behind the corner, arranging glasses on the shelf behind it, gracing their delicate, transparent, crystal clear edges with the touch of her slender fingers, caressing them one after another, while she does her job, a smile on her lips, so happy about something so mundane.
If that doesn't make her an angel, you don't know what would.
Absorbed like you've never seen, she doesn't notice your entering, until, seating yourself on one of the tall stools, you - intentionally - tap a heel on the edge. Myschi - oh, be blessed her beauty - pricks up her ears, and not wasting any time, twirls round towards you on one foot.
"Oh," Her smile widens at the discovery of your person. "Hello."
Well, then, no need to keep the cheerful expression on anymore - let it all disperse, flow down, fall, that smirk, as well as your upper body, which - denied the support of your arms - slumps to the cold tabletop beneath. Ah, the cool feels so nice against your cheek...
"Myyyyyschiiiii..." You mutter, barely able to slip a word out.
But she doesn't look impressed by this show of helplesness. Though the smile remains on its place, her eyes reveal a hint of condescending perplexity - as she looks down on your poor, grimacing face, battered by life and misfortune.
"Ugh," She groans under her nose. "Creepy. What is it, Romeo?" The step forth she takes is a hint - a hint for your hand to spring forward, and grab a hold of her own, pulling her closer, only a bit closer. It would seem her own expression is as prone to outside factors as yours - her cheeks take up a red hue, "Wa--wah." But instead of running away, she returns the clasp, putting the other, free palm against her collar. Blink, blink, blink, thrice the lashes cut the air in front of her face. "W-what is it, all of a sudden?" You give her tender paw a gentle squeeze - the rest of her body almost explodes, and surely does it jerk up, sending another wave of blinks - and a lot of blush - to her cutely dumbfounded face. "N-no, seriously." She urges further, in that weak voice, as you scan her expression so carefully it takes looking away for her to grab a hold of the lost tongue. "W-what is it?"

[ ] Proceed. Make use of the other hand. Seduce her into obedience, whatever it takes.
[ ] Sigh. Let go of her and get straight to business. Better to be frank than to lie or frolic with her feelings.
[ ] Was there really a greater goal in coming here? If so, forget it, and simply enjoy her blush, as always.

==

I'm not sure. I'm not convinced, Giddy.

[X] Was there really a greater goal in coming here? If so, forget it, and simply enjoy her blush, as always.

{X} Sigh. Let go of her and get straight to business. Better to be frank than to lie or frolic with her feelings.

>I'm not convinced, Giddy.
Of what?

>>18519
Playing with Myschi's emotions? No thanks. Laying this out like cold fact? Not nearly enough fun. Giving up? Pfft.

[X] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

Obviously a game, so no feelings are hurt, but still plenty of opportunities to flirt and be together. The look on Aya's face will be that much better with Myschi on our hip dangling the keys as we saunter past. Myschi's had a rough day, what with collapsing actors and nasty tsunderes, all while doing inn work. Time to show her the fun and thrill of being a thespian, if even for just a little.

[X] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

[X] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

Changing vote. So much better.

[X] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

[X] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

[x] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

Yeeeeeeeeeeees.

[x] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.
[x] Afterwards, victorysex in a pool of champagne.

[x] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

Come, read me like I'm an ordinary story, have a look in my words.
Underneath the light there is violence, rusted key in its hands.
Updates are the beauty of our tangled routes,
Updates are the beauty and I don't know whose.

Ten minutes.

[X] Conspire. 007 has nothing on you and Myschi is better than the last two decades worth of Bond girls put together. Enlist the femme fatale into a covert operation to destabilize a ruthless dictator.

What is it - she asks, but the answer clogs your throat like a tuft of hair in a sink's drain - indeed, you can't simply approach her and ask for the keys to Aya's room as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world - it would be outright stupid. This isn't how these sorts of affairs are dealt with - but if not, what is there you can possibly attempt to do? With the girl staring at you, blushing as furiously as she probably would if you caught her naked in a tub, pricking up her ears, eager to hear an explanation - or something drastically different - your thoughts are in tangle. Incomprehensible mess full of only awkward remarks regarding how cute her flustered face looks at the moment. Regarding how hard it is to retain stillness, when her body is so obviously calling out to be closed in an embrace, then slowly succumb to the warmth after vainly trying to break away. But as much as you'd love to throw your arms around her here and now, on this very spot, it would only worsen the situation. Stay concentrated, stay vigilant, don't forget the goal. The goal is to find a way to Aya's room. She may blush, she may mutely beg to be hugged, but it isn't what you're here for.
Think. Adapt. What would John Knot do?
The cogs spring into life, and open the floodgates of creativity, the waves of juice carrying a plan that settles down within your head in a matter of seconds. Your lips stretch in an amused smirk - amused by the prospect of what's about to happen. Myschi may be daft when it comes to staging, but even she should be able to partake in a little show...
Hold up for a second. Myschi?
'Nay!' - replies your inner Bond! Or was it his Walther? No, most definitely Bond. 'Nay!' - replies your inner Bond! - 'For the woman before you is one slyer, more beautiful and dangerous even than Le Blaze!' - and the second he does, the only remaining free hand of yours grasps her delicate palm from above, completely imprisoning it between the flesh of it - and the other, already entwined with her tender fingers. Panic - is what she does, instinctively trying to yank it away, but your trained, polite, warm and friendly smile quickly calms the frightened bird she seems to be inside. Her eyes - the beautiful, violet eyes - can only stare in shock, when you lean forward, if only to get a better, closer look of her face, so red it looks as though it was on the brink of exploding. If it were possible, there'd probably be steam gushing out of her ears.
"I need your help." You mutter under the breath, glancing all round as if to check for any curious bystanders eavesdropping on the conversation. A carefully measured couple of seconds after, you return the whole of your attention to Myschi. "The situation has become clear." You say. "I have pinpointed the identity of our enemy."
"W-what are you talking about?"
The unwilling actress remains dumbfounded. Nothing a bit of pushing couldn't fix, though the touch of her quivering fingers somehow manages to undermine your confidence.
"It's safe here, partner." You resume regardless. "We may speak - the surveillance cameras are all offline, and the guards are sleeping with the fishies."
But the reassuring words of yours seem to graze past her head, the subtle hints, winking, the speech of the body, completely unnoticed. Had it been Aya - she would have already joined the act, not stumbling once. Now, though, all you get is a baffled cutie, staring at you as though you were a loony gone straight out of a mental hospital.
But then comes the miracle - Myschi swallows hard, and slowly opens her pretty lips.
"A-alright..." Again, she pauses for an instant. "Who IS the enemy?"
"Finally," You reply, donning a relieved tone. "I was beginning to think you've been replaced by a double. The enemy goes by the name 'Aya' in the local circles." The blank look in Myschi's eyes suggests getting to the point as fast as possible, and so you clear your throat, then cut straight to the chase. "Inside her room, in this very hotel, is a dangerous device I need to retrieve."
"... and what does that have to do with me?" She asks.
"Like I said, I need your help." You remind, making a note of her blush slowly being replaced back by the normal, healthy tint a girl's face should have - despite your palms still being connected.
"Um... so...?"
"In your last report, you mentioned infiltrating the ranks of the hotel's employees. Surely you've grabbed a hold of spare keys to all the rooms, right?"
"Aha."
However, the moment she says that word, everything changes. From a sea of embarrassed abashment, she resurfaces as an angry battleship, with it's ominous cannons - the sharp glare of her eyes - sinking your little boat in a single salve. The 'Bond' in your head desperately reaches for his revolver, and loads the metaphorical, 'last' bullet. Creak-- click. Loaded, all ready to fire, and leave you on your own with the suddenly angry woman.
If that wasn't enough, she throws in another gesture - puffing her cheeks, like a miffed child, and looks away from your face - the one still stuck in the stupid, stale smile.
"Myschi?" You try, but yet another offended glint of her eyes quickly pushes the words back down your throat. "Urk--"

"You only visit me when you need something, don't you." Even further down. Her tone carries something more than just ordinary disappointment. "Spending the whole day with your pretty girls, then coming crying to me because something happened, hm?" Jealousy - and of the worst, green-eyed kind. "You never come to play with me." Standing on her tip toes, swaying back and forth, pouting her lips, she lets out an irritated snort. "Even though I've done so much for you."
"Myschi, sorry, I--"
Zoom! - like a speeding Ferrari, her face suddenly appears in front of yours - the eyes so awkward thirty seconds ago staring right into yours, inches ahead.
"Do you want to steal her panties?"
"Wha--?!" The combined effect of the question and the closeness of her purple lips causes your body to jerk back. "Wha-- of course not!"
Persistent, still and menacing, she continues looking at you in perfect silence for a few moments, before finally breaking the contact, pulling back, sighing in a fashion so resigned, the whole upbeat mood sinks to join your confidence at the bottom of the ocean.
Myschi, as if to admire the majestic defeat of yours, traces a path along your arms with her violet pupils, finally stopping on your connected palms. As if lost in though, she begins to twiddle the fingers around, maybe trying to find a more comfortable position - while you find yourself too speechless to mutter anything but a silent groan.
"I suppose then," She says, still playing inside the shell of your hands. "That you have a good enough reason to ask me something so stupid?"
Incited by the homecoming of the original topic, you give her a nod.
"Yeah. I can't tell you, but--"
"Oh, cut the crap." Myschi cuts in, scratching on your skin. "Save those 'secret agent' lines for your movie, okay?"
Unbelievably, accompanying these words, a weak smile graces her lips. More than enough to convince you of her rights.
"Yes, ma'am." And agree, nodding meekly like a little kid. "But I really need to get into that room."
"Can't ask that Aya for the key?"
"Nope."
"You know I'm not allowed to hand out spare keys to anyone?"
"Are you?"
"What do you think, dummy?" She gives you a light scowl. "Of course I'm not. But..." Then pauses for a second, looking down at the counter again. Twitch, twitch, her fingers flutter twice or thrice. With every second, she seems to shuffle closer and closer, now so very close you can feel the warm air she exhales on your lips. "I might... consider... Breaking the rules... Just for you."
"Y-yes...?"
"If you..." Twiddle, twiddle. "Give me something in return."
Closer and closer, now it's her turn to place the free hand on top of yours. Looking once up at your face, her face grows red again out of the blue. Hesitating, she glances away for a moment, but quickly gathers courage back together. Her eyes close, slowly, gently, as though a single blink could break the atmosphere that's spread between you two, the warm, magic feeling, intoxicating for both the participants, when the girl slowly slides forward, her lips pouted a little, when the hands, connected with the guy's, shiver in anticipation. Even her ears take up a pink hue, and you swear they're quivering a little as well.
The purple call of her lips is loud and clear.
They want you to kiss them. They want you to take them.
"Nn..."
Small moan forces its way out of her throat, as she squeezes your palms to the verge of pain. If that's not clear enough a hint, you don't know what could possibly be clearer.

[ ] Kiss her - no one is looking, and it's not like you haven't been lusting after those lips.
[ ] Even so, on the lips... It would be just too much. One of her cheeks will have to suffice.
[ ] No. In a play, it would be different, but now... You can't kiss her like this. Not yet.

[X] No. In a play, it would be different, but now... You can't kiss her like this. Not yet.

[X] Kiss her - no one is looking, and it's not like you haven't been lusting after those lips.

[X] No. In a play, it would be different, but now... You can't kiss her like this. Not yet.

{X} Kiss her - no one is looking, and it's not like you haven't been lusting after those lips.

>>"Do you want to steal her panties?"
No, we want to steal Akyu's panties.

[+] Even so, on the lips... It would be just too much. One of her cheeks will have to suffice.
Just because I don't think anyone else will choose it.

[x] Kiss her

[x] No. In a play, it would be different, but now... You can't kiss her like this. Not yet.
[x] Instead, close the distance and whisper "most definitely, just not here" into her ear.

[x] Kiss her on the forehead.
[x] Smile warmly "How about in a more romantic setting, Myschi? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption" entwine your fingers with hers in one hand, and stroke her cheek and hair with the other.

[x] Kiss her on the forehead.
[x] Smile warmly "How about in a more romantic setting, Myschi? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption" entwine your fingers with hers in one hand, and stroke her cheek and hair with the other.

[x] Kiss her on the forehead.
[x] Smile warmly "How about in a more romantic setting, Myschi? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption" entwine your fingers with hers in one hand, and stroke her cheek and hair with the other.

[x] Kiss her on the forehead.
[x] Smile warmly "How about in a more romantic setting, Myschi? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption" entwine your fingers with hers in one hand, and stroke her cheek and hair with the other.

[x] Kiss her on the forehead.
[x] Smile warmly "How about in a more romantic setting, Myschi? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption" entwine your fingers with hers in one hand, and stroke her cheek and hair with the other.

Myschi~

[X] No. In a play, it would be different, but now... You can't kiss her like this. Not yet.

I've always wondered why anon like mystia so much- so many stories go into Romancing Mystia territory.

just wonderin what was so attractive or moe about her to you guys?

>>18603

Ear wings.

>>18603
She sings~

>>18603
Part of it is probably the provider/nuturing aspect. The whole food-stall thing for humans and youkai alike conveys a notion that she likes to take care of people unconditionally. I think school marm Keine sees some love due to this as well. Couple this with a traditionally feminine portrayal in a lot of fan depictions that don't display any truly discernable characteristics. On the one hand, it makes her seem kind of boring compared to most of the other Touhous with theif very strong/distinct personalities or character traits. On the other hand, aside from a love of singing and making food for people, the lack of these strong characteristics affords her a shallow, yet universal appeal. Contrast this with other characters that are very popular for a small niche that obsess over a single aspect, or perhaps limited set of traits.

Everyone loves Myschi, and even if you're not too fond of her, you probably don't hate her. That's my take on her appeal.

Sage for OT response.

>>18627
Mystia IS a bit of a swindler. She gives people night blindness and they are attracted to her stall by her singing, where they splurge money on the lamprey eel she cooks to supposedly cure their night blindness. People tend to rush over this in her characterization.

Kickin'. Ten minutes, stay sharp.

[x] Kiss her on the forehead.
[x] Smile warmly "How about in a more romantic setting, Myschi? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption" entwine your fingers with hers in one hand, and stroke her cheek and hair with the other.

The tables have been turned, and the one heretofore assaulted by the actor's - yours - selfish inclinations of drawing her into a foolish act suddenly picks the derelict baton up - and begins drawing, compelling even, the one so keen on playing on her feelings seconds ago, to follow the mood, give up, and into the fray of the purple lips, so seductively pouted, asking - no, begging - for a kiss; a single, gentle kiss that would seal the deal, and send you flying on the wings of agape - completely innocent, genuine agape - with a key to Aya's room, back upstairs. Even her scent feels as though it was praying for a tiny moment of contact. Just one kiss - and you'll get anything you want.
Yet, despite her cutely timid advances, the whole thing doesn't feel quite right - the sight of her quivering eyelids, trembling in anticipation may bring your chest to the brink of implosion, but it doesn't feel as it should - it just doesn't. Not like this, not in an open field.
Her hands' squeeze grows in strength with each passing second, as impatient and wobbly as the look on her face.
But it doesn't feel right - it just doesn't feel right, and that's all about it. That is why, your lips, instead of moving onto hers, shift quickly higher, skimming past her cute, little nose, then press against her forehead - and remain there, taking in the sensation.
"E-eh...?" Myschi gasps, as though in surprise. Her skin feels as hot as the carmine shade of it would suggest it to be, and it is not because of the humid atmosphere of the kitchen behind she's so feverishly hot. No, the cause is different, and you'd give anything and everything to erase it from existence here and now. "Why--..."
The life is a battlefield, though, and back at the front, with a carabine clutched hard in your sweaty palms, you leap back into the ditch - shift back onto your chair, only now do you realizing you've been slowly shuffling closer and closer to Myschi's luring face these last thirty or so seconds. Not knowing it yourself.
All of a sudden, the room's become steaming hot.
"Mhm." With your silent mutter, her blank eyes awaken and turn all of their flustered attention back to you. It doesn't help to find the proper words a single bit... But then again - if she's ruined the play with her mundane - welcome, but overly mundane - honesty, you've no choice but to build it anew. Flush the blood from your cheeks, switch the heat sinks on, forget about all the shame. Put the cool she's almost sucked out against your blistering forehead. Regain the consciousness, and fix the hold on her tender palms - entwine their fingers with yours, all while persistently seeking a hint of anything helpful in those frightened eyes of hers. There is nothing. "Sorry." You try again, only to receive a confused blink. "How about in a more romantic setting, Myschi?"
"W-wha...?"
Success, a small one, as she backs away, under your focused gaze.
"I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you." The other, free hand, led by an impulse, reaches for one of her persistently, furiously red cheeks, and gently brushes the delicate skin. As if carressing the most delicate silk. Myschi closes an eye - and in spite of all the odds, cuddles lightly against your palm. Something, deep inside your chest, explodes in colourful confetti. "Alone," You add, in a quieter voice. "And without interruption."
"B-but... Alone...?"
"I really need that key." You push through her distraction. "I know it sounds stupid, but I really need to get into that room."
"I can't..."
"Really," In a reassuring voice, you add. "If I wanted a pair of panties, I'd ask for yours."
"W-what?!" She yells, drawing back, but quickly recalls the current circumstances, and mitigates herself. Her cheeks once grow pink when she yanks herself away from your reach. "I-I wouldn't give you any of my--"
"But you can give me the key. I promise I won't cause any trouble."
She hesitates for a couple more of moments, but then surrenders, and reaching to her waist, pulls out a bundle of keys, from which she unhooks a single one, marked with the proper number - Aya's room alright. She drew the right one right away. It then lands with a jingle on the tabletop, from where you snatch it before Myschi has a chance to change her mind. Mission accomplished - time for an instantaneous EVAC from the enflamed zone.
Does it feel bad to leave her there all warmed up and on her own? Oh boy, it does. It so does.
"I'll hold you to that promise!"
The girl yells after your escaping self, in a voice so unexpectedly confident it almost makes you trip on the doorstep of the messhall. This may have been a giant mistake... Or a giant step towards Myschi's heart. Whichever it is, it's a matter to be thought over later on.
Now, you fly.

(...)


The room reposes in shreds and shatters, cluttered by everything imaginable and some more, with its beds messed up, clothes scattered all around, making just the act of walking in a pain inexplicable in ordinary words. Why is it no matter which room you visit, they always look like this? - unless it's the curse of youth all the girls seem to suffer. But what's more important, in the incomprehensible maze of trash, you immediately find what you've been seeking - and it doesn't take two seconds to ensure it being the thing - on one of the nighttables, lays a transparent, corked bottle, a rolled piece of paper gleaming clichély from the inside. Smelling it carefully confirms the theory - it reeks of that underground place and the musty water. If this thing is what you battered yourself over so much--
Snap.
Lost in contemplation of the mysterious 'token', you haven't noticed when an additional person entered the room, glaring at you like at a thief - which you, technically, could be considered right now. Freeze in place is all you can do when she turns the key in the lock, and slips it into the pocket of her skirt.
"Would you look at that." Aya growls, glancing you daggers and icicles. "A cat has snuck into our cave."
"Aya--" You try to blurt out an excuse, but she quickly shoots you down with another cold glare.
"I was saving that for the evening, you know." Her chin nods at the bottle in your hands. "I had such a perfect plan prepared. Imagine it!" She raises her arms in the air, in some sort of an exaggerated gesture. "Poor Aya swoons at her own party! Her friend carries her back to her room, where the two - both tired after a long day - have a honest and warm chat." You don't even dare to interrupt when she pauses for a breath, smirking to herself. "Then, little Aya pulls the 'token' her mate wanted to see so badly out - and asks him to get closer, so that she may show him in detail... And then--!" Her arms wrap around the air in front of her, while her lips pout and make a bunch of loud, smooching noises. "Mmm! MMM! Oh, Aya, you're so cute! Oh, I've always wanted to do this! But what if someone walks in? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption, Aya! Mmm!" She ends the spiteful play with another smooching noise, and promptly crosses arms on her chest. The look on her face would be best described as 'hideously disgusted'. "If that's how the staff in this hotel works, I might seriously consider filling a complaint."
The fact it's the usually brisk and lively Aya scowling at you only worsens the already dangerous situation.


[ ] Be creative.

==

Because I am curious.

[x] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - sorry, but I need to know what you took and why"
[x] "And for someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world, I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before"
[x] "Now, Aya, let's talk"

[x] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - sorry, but I need to know what you took and why"
[x] "And for someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world, I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before"
[x] "Now, Aya, let's talk"

>Oh, I've always wanted to do this! But what if someone walks in? I'd like to be able to enjoy it with you, alone, and without interruption, Aya! Mmm!

Is this a coincidence, or did Aya spy on the previous scene?

[x] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - sorry, but I need to know what you took and why"
[x] "And for someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world, I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before"
[x] "Now, Aya, let's talk"

>>18688
>>"If that's how the staff in this hotel works, I might seriously consider filling a complaint."
What was your first guess?

[+] "Eh, I'm probably not the first guy to have broken into your room before."
[+] "Now, Aya, we talk."
[+] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - I need to know what and why."
I think it flows better. Still rather abrasive.

[x] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - sorry, but I need to know what you took and why"
[x] "And for someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world, I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before"
[x] "Now, Aya, let's talk"

[x] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - sorry, but I need to know what you took and why"
[x] "And for someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world, I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before"
[x] "Now, Aya, let's talk"

[x] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - sorry, but I need to know what you took and why"
[x] "And for someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world, I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before"
[x] "Now, Aya, let's talk"

yep, good choice. one vote for this.

Curious outcome, but 'ere we go, flyin' thru' da cosmos!

Ten minutes.

[x] "You were willing to get me in trouble with the police - sorry, but I need to know what you took and why"
[x] "And for someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world, I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before"
[x] "Now, Aya, let's talk"

Be it dangerous as it may - but isn't it a little bit wrong? All you did was retrieve something apparently you righteously had a right to - and everybody knows the goal sanctions the means, is that correct? Her scowling face is the one deserving a reprimand, not yours - and if anyone else was present at the scene, they would agree wholeheartedly - too bad Aya's locked the door. What for? You can only watch benumbed as she fixes the effects of wriggling around her creamy sweater has suffered. At least it averts the glare of hers away for long enough to reap some of the reserve courage you've been holding contained for dark hours like these.
The brief glimpse of incredibly tight, black shorts she's wearing beneath that waterfall of heavy-looking fabric she gives you so shamelessly only adds to the flame. Or something else, perhaps - you couldn't care less at the moment. Clutching the bottle in your palms, damp with sweat, you take the mental first step forward, and having swallowed the excessive saliva - hard and loud enough for it to sound at least discouraging - speak up.
"You were willing to get me in trouble with the police."
Aya returns her eyes back to your face, the same, albeit less blistering hint pouring from behind. Her hands release the sweater's edges, and fall to her sides - along with the too long sleeves, that mischievously cover them up to the fingertips. This mixture of visual innocence and calm, mature displeasure is stupefying to say the least.
She frowns, wryly bending her lips.
"What?"
In the lead - in the lead you are. First confused, but now the tables have been turned, and you're more than eager to follow with another assault - crossing arms on your chest - careful not to drop the fragile treasure - you respond her scowl in kind.
"Sorry." The apology sounds even more insincere than you'd have liked it to. "But I need to know what you took and why."
Aya hasn't let it pass unnoticed either, and steps forward, while you remain rooted to the spot.
"What are you--"
"And--" You quickly interrupt, successfully stopping her in her tracks. There's been enough getting pushed around by her - her and everyone else. She may suddenly loose all the signs of irritation, but it cannot stop you. "For someone who's constantly flashing their panties without a care in the world," You disregard her lips slowly setting apart, the cute, white teeth slowly being revealed to the world. "I'm sure I'm not the only guy to have broken into your room before."
"Wha--..." Aya blinks several times. Either what you've just said has played out its intended part, or you've hit a weak point. Be it this or that - it's a full success. Her eyes retreat from a scowl to gaping in daze at your triumphant smile. "Just what--..." She stumbles on her own words. "Just what does THAT have to do with ANYTHING?!" Change, an immediate change. Shock, embarrassment and everything imaginable paints itself over her face in a matter of splits of seconds. Her hands clench into fists, now completely invisible underneath the cover of her sleeves. The anger is back, but now it's the shocked, flustered kind. "What I do with other guys is none of your concern! And it's not like I wear those kinds of clothes especially so that my underwear could show, you know!" Pout after pout, she fights the spiteful accusations back, helpless against their blunt sincerity. Gee, now you're feeling kind of bad, seeing her like this. "What's your problem?!"
"Like I said--"
"Bullshit!" She cuts in, and if she only wasn't Aya, you'd try to see the tears in the corners of her eyes. "Bullshit, bullshit, BULLSHIT! I was willing to get you in trouble? What the hell has gotten into you?!"
"Aya--" You try, the soft side slowly returning to its place. In vain.
"I couldn't just tell miss Keine I took a risk to get this--" She shoots a finger at the bottle. "Thing from underground! It was an excuse, okay?! E-X-C-U-S-E. And they say I'm the impatient one!" The same hand so accusingly pointing so far runs along her face, stroking her eyelids. "I told you to take it easy. Can't you at least trust me a little? Am I really that unreliable? I would never do anything to get you in trouble!"
Enough. It really is enough, you have no intention of listening any more.
"Alright!" You yell, more at yourself than at her, and look away. For the love of God, every time you think you've gotten a grasp on her thinking patterns, she has to leap out with an excess like this. "I get it! Sorry, alright? Sorry. For Christ's sake... Forget what I said." Or at least try to, you add, shifting one of your feet forward. Just take a step, shake her hand, and be done with it. Forget it. Forget... "I'm sorry, so let's just have a talk, oka--"
Blink. No, a flicker, rather - it runs through your vision, a wave of darkness across the screen. Your toes hit something hard, and just the surge of pain sends your mind into blank nothingness.
Aya's muffled gasp.

As you tumble forward.

Cursing your own indiligence inside.

Plunging towards the floor

But the impact doesn't come.

Instead, something soft and warm bumps against your chest and shoulders. Tender, mild, surrounded by delicate fragrance of a woman's body.
"There," Aya whispers, right beside your ear, while your chin presses on the itchy fabric. It's dark. It was dark to begin with, but the colours refuse to return, instead letting swirls of black and purple take up their place, for the time being. Slowing down, slowing down... Spinning slower and slower as a pair of arms wraps around your numb back. The bottle slips away from your grasp, and dives down, only a dry, stifled noise accompanying the end of its journey. "You see?" Again, the unexpectedly gentle voice caresses your tangled thoughts. "I don't want you to get hurt. I just wanted to... make it a surprise. I might be onto something big, you know. Something really big this time. Not that ice cave paintings stuff from last year." She allows herself a silent snicker. "It's really something great this time. I can tell."
"A--..." You try, but your throat refuses to comply.
"Sssh..." Aya mutters. "You're tired. Don't die on me just yet, okay? I still owe you. And I want to dance with you at the party in the evening." She pauses for a moment. "So show me you can trust me and fall asleep in my arms, okay? Just fall asleep, and I'll call Kourin over. Just do it. Give me that pleasure."

[ ] No. No, no, no. Not yet. You haven't come this far only to faint!
[ ] Give her that pleasure... And give it to yourself as well. Relinquish your will - and succumb to the fatigue.
[ ] Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

[X] Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

[x] Give her that pleasure... And give it to yourself as well. Relinquish your will - and succumb to the fatigue.

hmmmmmm

[X] Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

[X] Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

[x] Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

[x] Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

[+] Give her that pleasure... And give it to yourself as well. Relinquish your will - and succumb to the fatigue.

It doesn't sound like we have much choice but the "[] Anemic" option.

{X} Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

Aya sux.

[x] Give her that pleasure... And give it to yourself as well. Relinquish your will - and succumb to the fatigue.

Aya.

[ ] No. No, no, no. Not yet. You haven't come this far only to faint!

Called, and in usual ten minutes, there will be sexy crows, cluttering the floor.
Stay sharp, for the hour is young, and provided the outcome comes quick enough, there may be one more update today.

[X] Push her away. The heck is she thinking?! She's not Myschi or Mokou, to hug you out of the blue--!

The whole of her presence feels to be urging, with both the soothing, wishful words - and the body, so warm and soft, with its delicate scent slowly overwhelming all the other senses - it exhorts, slowly shoves you, gently, delicately, but firmly - closer towards the dark, hollow abyss of oblivion, where pleasant nothingness awaits to take you into its embrace, lose more time, lose a little chunk of life, in return for spitting you out hours after, reborn, but stillborn in all the goals. Give in..."
Tighter, closer and stronger, her embrace grows in strength as seconds flow by, unnoticed - while she snuggles closer, pressing her bust against your nigh asleep chest - breaking through the shroud of fatigue with its overtaking, heavenly heat. Something as soft as a fleece seems to brush the skin of your exposed neck, but it only lasts a hundredth of a moment.
"Trust me." Her gentle whisper wishes once more. "Rest."
Rest, she says - and doesn't that sound enticing... It does, more so to rest in the warmth of her embrace... So sudden... So unexpected... Unconditional, caring and affectionate - something no one would ever see Aya giving anyone. Something... Strange. Odd, peculiar, curious - Aya hugging you like this, with no higher goal but letting you lest your tired body? Hard to believe - even harder to resist - but that it's hard to believe is the strangest. Why..."Why is she pressing herself against you so alluringly, when a minute ago, you nearly made her burst into tears..."There is nothing she could use as an excuse. She's not... There is nothing between you two.
She's not Mokou. She's not Myschi. Neither of the two - the girl cuddling against your shoulder, mumbling reassuring words is the sly director Aya - a person whose arms you'd rather not fall asleep in. Can't allow yourself. Can't do - just can't do. Not in hers - if only it was someone else...!
In a surge of blood, the world returns to your eyes - along with the feeling of Aya's body being torn away, brutally, out of the blue, by your - seemingly - sentient arms. Push her away, back up yourself, wheezing like a frightened animal, while she...
"--Ah?!" Tumbles back, half a step landed on the discarded bottle - and without a chance to save herself from tripping, she falls.

Right onto her back, like a little child unable to withstand being pushed with such a force - and thanks to the vicious bottle, now laying on the floor, legs spread holding a hand against the back of her head, while the show unfolds... The show of her underwear - yet again - being exposed to the world. The sweater - too loose, apparently, in the area of her waist - rolls up due to the force of the impact, revealing not only a pair of tight, black shorts, but also a luring piece of her tummy - a cute, little bellybutton marking the center of a deliciously flat and firm stomach.
"Ow, ow, ow..." She groans to herself while massaging both the skull and the bottom... And the moment her eyes look to survey the damage, they catch your disturbed stare. "..." Her moans disperse, so does her troubled expression, only to be again substituted by a scowl. "... I thought you had a problem with my underwear showing."
"Gah--" Quickly, you manage to grab a hold of yourself, and stop panting like a bear in heat, swallowing whatever there might have been in your mouth in one go. Negligence, why did you allow yourself to gape at those shorts so shamelessly-- "A problem--"
"Aha." Aya mutters bitterly under her nose, looking aside. Not moving from the spot, still giving you a clear, direct shot of the most erogenic zone of her body. "So you're just jealous of the other guys?"
"I am not frakkin' jealous!" The careless mouth of yours blurts out on its own. "That was--"
"Spur-of-a-moment-kinda-thing?" Aya queries in the same, steely tone. "Make your mind up already, would you kindly?" Thighs - long and smooth. Enclosed in a close-fitting shell of black, silky fabric. "I'm not wearing anything underneath. Not even a bra."
"Aya!" You scream, scratching mentally at the eyes that turned to her chest the moment she mentioned not wearing a-- "For the love of--!"
"Sssh!" She suddenly hisses. "Someone's bound to hear you if you don't keep it down. What would Mokou do if she found us like this?"
"She'd--"
"Smear us all over the town." She finishes on her own. "So whatever you, try to keep relatively quiet. As if you've never seen movies like this."
"What movies--?!" You're virtually on the edge of losing your sanity. A moment ago, she was -- No, was that an act?
"We're digressing." Aya suddenly remarks. "Well, the surprise has been spoiled, but I guess it's nothing we couldn't get over." That's right, the bottle--! "Uh-nuh-nuh." She clicks her tongue when you try to reach towards the cause of all the conflict and strife. "One step and you're getting a faceful of my slippers." As though to demonstrate, one of her legs - these long, slender legs - raises in the air, wriggling its toes at you ominously. Or hilariously, depending on how you look at it. "You cannot pass!"
"What do you want."
Aya smiles at the careful question of yours.
"Let me see..." She puts a finger to her lips in a theatrical gesture of thinking. "Hmm..." Furrows cross her forehead for a couple of seconds, before she casts you a mischievous wink. "There's one thing you could exchange for my story."
"And that is?" You push.
"Kiss me."
"What?!" And fail at keeping the cool you've just finished gathering. "Aya, are you--?!"
"Kiss me." She says again, pouting her lips, closing her eyes... Just like someone else was doing not long ago. You can only stand and stare in disbelief. She's... not seriously asking for a kiss... is she? "Come on, what are you waiting for?" One of her eyes gives you a brief glance, but then returns under its lid. "I'm not the patient type."

[ ] Just do it, man. Just do it.
[ ] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!
[ ] Sod it - sod it all. Make your head another brick in the wall.
[ ] "Aya, please." Slump onto one of the beds. "Stop it."

[x] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

TRICKSIE CROW.

[X] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

[X] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

Sorry, Crow. I'd rather have the Night Sparrow.

>>18745
I like both

[x] Just do it, man. Just do it.

[ ] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

>>18746

But Myschi tries so hard for Actornon's heart and affection and is so cute when she get's jealous.

Which makes her infinitely better than Aya.

[X] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

[X] "Aya, please." Slump onto one of the beds. "Stop it."

{X} Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

Still sux.

Some cute Shameimaru.

[x] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

[x] Go on a raping spree. These women, they're driving you nuts!
[x] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

Ten minutes.

[x] Now - snatch the bottle, leap over Aya, and go for the door!

Whether it was or not, the vibes tangible in her quiet await are too clear to be ignored - and while the source remains unclear, for it sure as the grass being green aren't the legs - no matter how hard you'd have liked them to - the bad feeling remains, and taints one of the otherwise perfectly fine scene from a high-school romance comedy you seem to be condemned to suffering ever since arriving here, in this hellhole of a town. If such a thing as The Force exists in this world, it has to be suffering a ton of disturbances right now.
With the corner of your eye, you notice Aya tapping her fingers lightly on the floor, authentically impatient - or again, only acting - about what you were asked to do -- and what you'd have to lose your mind to really do. There may be purple swirls prancing around, there may be something stirring in the back of your brain, but there's enough power in these senses to spot the Holy Grail - the message bottle - laying right there, a step ahead, while with her ridiculous request, Aya has let it disappear from her watchful sight. By her own, free will - she practically handed the victory over to you on a golden tray - or slick, black shorts, if you prefer this variant.
It is right there, while she's lost in her own delusions. Within an arm's reach. The goal, the moot point, the target of this perilous escapade, shining with pure white of the paper inside.

Forth, a step comes towards the score, a single sweep of fingers brushing past the floor, like that of a trained baseball player's - snatching the ball from the lawn of the field.

The glass - now cold - fondles its captor with a cool, soothing touch - when the legs of his make a jump - bound forward, over Aya's lewdly spread body, and land perfectly by the door.

"Hey!" Aya wakes up the moment you pull the knob, only to find it - as already foreseen - locked. She doesn't give an immediate chase, though, sure of her victory. Little does she know-- "You're not going anywhere-!" --for the key she used wasn't the only one there is. "Stop--!"
The fruit of Mystia's love comes into play within seconds, and quickly sets the path alfresco open, free to pass, where only a sudden grip on your ankle hinders with straightaway progress. Glancing down - it's Aya's - obviously - because whose else? It doesn't count a slightest bit. She'll let go as soon as you swing the door ajar and escape this bothersome confinement.
When you swing the door ajar, and freeze in place. Root at once to the spot, lost in shock.
"My, my." The blonde beauty on the other side puts a palm to her lips, concealing a mischievous smile. "What have I walked in on, I wonder?"


(...)


Complete, unquestionable defeat - if there'd been an encyclopaedia regarding the most spectacular defeats in the history of mankind, this would have taken up a prime spot at the Modern Failures page. Faced with not one - but two, cooperating girls, you had no choice but to hand the bottle - and the key - over, and submit, seconded to your room without a delay. Not counting the one of Aya scornfully throwing 'You should have asked.' as you turned to leave.
The sound of rain assaults with full, verbal force when you lay the upper part of your body on your bed, and let your face sink in the pillows. In one thing, they were right - you really are tired. So tired the nausea of fatigue comes in a matter of seconds after you close your eyes.
At least this time, you didn't forget to lock the door.


(...)


The night's grown old during those past few hours of mindless stumble across the woods. Even the birds had ceased chirping joyfully at the light of the moon, and went to sleep, all a solid while ago, while you - in naught but this ragged robe, continue strolling through the brush, with no one, not a living soul by your side.
Somewhere in the distance, music spreads its cheerful influence over a village of sorts, the lights every now and again shining through the thicket, from nowhere in particular, and all around, impossible to pinpoint.

And not a single, living soul can be seen.

Dead ones, on the other hand...

Are plenty.


(...)


Awakening comes as naturally as the sleep did - and not even a hint of dizyness sneaks past your head when you raise it from the covers. First thing that comes to mind, you've somehow managed to fix the position in your sleep - because as opposed to your pre-sleep, half-sitting pose, you are now laying spread across - or sitting on, if we're talking about the present while - the bed. Your own bed, as you notice not without relief.
Somewhere from the distance, comes a jumpy tune, almost inaudible in the humming of the rain...
"Hmph." As well as periodical, muffled grunting. It doesn't even take a glance to pinpoint the identity of the one sitting in the armchair. "Hrrng..."
What takes a glance, though - is discovering Mokou to be wearing quite an unusual outfit. In place of the regular pants and shirt, glitters a flashy skirt, accompanied by an equally indecent kind of a shirt - the one where the part supposed to cover the tummy was torn away, revealing everything to whoever wishes to look. Her hair is tied in a spectacular ponytail on the back of her head. Another thing - she lacks the cigarette in her mouth - at least it would seem she has finally learned not to smoke around a sleeping person.
"Hey," You mumble, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed. Mokou slowly shifts her blase eyes to you. "Good evening."
"Welcome to hell." She replies petulantly. "Sure took your time, didn't you."
"No one told you to wait for me to wake up." The sneakers find their way back onto your feet, as you spring up, oblivious of the consequences this might have brought to a tired head - fortunately, all the hints of exhaustion seem to be gone - and the couple of stretches you quickly do agree - reactors back online, the batteries fully charged - and it's going to be a pain to fall asleep again tonight. "How did you get in?"
Mokou lets a snort out, turning back to the window - behind which damp night looms in a rhythmical tune.
"Some of you are assholes, but some of you are honest assholes." She waits a few seconds before sighing at your confusion. "Myschi gave me a spare key."
'That's surprising.' - you'd like to say, but find enough wits to deem the phrase too risky - and instead settle for another subject.
"What's with the getup?"
"Oh, I thought I'd try changing my image a bit." Mokou casts you a glare. "What the hell do you think?"
"... Aya's party?" You try, careful not to step on any mines.
"It's already started - while you were having an afternoon nap." A sigh. "Gonna miss it whole at this rate too."
"Why aren't you downstairs, then?"
Mokou fidgets around in her seat, doing unbelievable things with her legs, all apparently intended to find a position in which she'd have her back completely turned at you - and soon enough, she finds one comfortable enough to let it stay.
"I'm..." Still wriggling her butt and a couple of other body parts, she seems to mumble on the brink of a whisper. "... not feeling like it."
"So you thought you'd come to my room instead?"
"..."
Silence is the only answer Mokou's bored back replies with. The music continues below, unaware of the slowly falling atmosphere of the room.

[ ] "They'd find out about your two left legs sooner or later anyway. Come on, let's not keep them waiting."
[ ] "Fair enough." Grab a jacket from the cupboard. "Sulk all you want - I'm going to have a bit of fun with everyone."
[ ] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."

==

Three updates - we are finally getting there! However, I am saddened to announce this block of text the last one for the night. Also, I am finally getting back on track - the last few days left me dissatisfied about the style of the updates - so if you've noticed any drop in quality, you now know the cause. Apologies.
Anyhow... More days like today!

>>18765

[x] "Well, whatever. I'm gonna go for a walk. I don't feel like giving Aya any satisfaction."

[x] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."

No need for a party. Spending time with Mokou is more fun.

[x] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."

or any other form of ballroom dancing.

[x] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."

[X] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."

Mission failure.

[+] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."
I'm looking at #1 actually, but I can't develop an appropriate build-up scenario for it.

That bottle, we must obtain it at all costs. Even if it means skirts-ing Aya at the party for everyone to see.

So uh, who was that blonde girl?

>>18765
[X] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."

Actornon can't seem to catch a break when it comes to dealing with Aya, so it's probably best to steer clear for awhile. Not all that surprising it's come to this, though. She's so caught up in her own machinations and scheming that she fails to consider the impression it's giving people. How she blanched and snapped when we calling her out on the panty flashes all but confirms it. The obedience it ensured was an end that justified the means, regardless of the consequences and impressions. From the salvo of updates in that last 12-ish hours, it's pretty obvious that it's close to impossible to determine if she's sincere in her actions or if she's planning something. The sympathetic part of my mind is screaming to indulge her, but the rational portion is winning with 'any act of compliance could be skewed to make us seem especially lascivious putting us further under her thumb.'

Worse comes to worse in terms of breaking into her room, and it ultimately becomes Aya's word against Keine's. Aya still has the item she told Keine we took. We were doing our best to reveal the truth while Aya was gunning for theatrics.

>Faced with not one - but two, cooperating girls, you had no choice but to hand the bottle - and the key - over, and submit, seconded to your room without a delay.
shit sux

>In place of the regular pants and shirt, glitters a flashy skirt, accompanied by an equally indecent kind of a shirt
>"What's with the getup?"
>"Oh, I thought I'd try changing my image a bit."
shit sux

>this situation
sux shit

>>18808
railroading and whores, joy

>Faced with not one - but two, cooperating girls, you had no choice but to hand the bottle - and the key - over, and submit, seconded to your room without a delay.

BECAUSE IT'S OBVIOUSLY IMPOSSIBLE TO PUSH PAST THE BLONDE GIRL AND DASH TO YOUR ROOM.

>>18787
It's clear that there's only one possible option:

RAPE.

[x] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."
[x] "But you know, it only takes two to Tango."

>>18787
Excellent analysis, but it is only one side of the medal. You are missing one, mildly important point of Aya's pattern of behaviour. It's not really that significant, though - do not crack your head over it.

>>18811
It may be, given one of the girls is holding your ankle while the other stands in your way - whilst you yourself are tired beyond endurance and barely conscious to boot. Not to mention the writer being somewhat tired of writing the protagonist bicker with Aya's pure and innocent intentions. I mean, give the Crow the love she deserves! Don't you have any hard-ons respect for too large sweaters? Children, I am disappointed in your moe-sense. Poor Aya.

>>18821
>I mean, give the Crow the love she deserves!
None, then?

>>18822

Your hatred is the water on the mill of my tsundere utopia.

The revolution shall begin within ten minutes.

[X] "... I see. Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either."

Time is slowly kissing the mood goodbye, and nothing can be done –with Mokou's back so repellently obverse– with just standing there idly, mute like a statue. It has always been like this anyway - you were the one to initiate any and all interaction these happy days you were still together. It may be only an illusion of a resurrected mind, but the rain seems to be in sync with the music coming from beneath the floor, oblivious to Mokou's sulking self, cheerful in spite of all the odds. Has she come all this way only to remain there still as an affronted child? Sighable, and sigh is what you do.
"... I see." A silent line follows, striking no strings in the miffed girl's head. Until another one comes to aid. "Well, truth be told, I'm not feeling like doing the rumba either." Her legs move to swing over the chair's armrests, and tap on the floor with a pair of elegant, albeit a bit too flashy high-heels, while the rest of the body follows a bit less enthusiastically. The wry scowl on her face doesn't forebode anything positive either. Stepping forth towards the cupboard's doors, her arms reach for the bottom of the kinky shirt– "Wait, what are you—" –and pull it off, before you can protest against stripping so shamelessly right on your eyes. No, before that, the piece of elastic fabric lands flat on your face. "Mokou!" In the brief frame between peeling the shirt off your eyes and getting hit again - though for a change with a skirt, you catch her standing at the opened cupboard, in nothing but white underwear, pulling something out of it without a slightest hint of hesitation. "What–"
A mouthful of warm cloth is what trying to yell earns you instead of a little bit of heed from the selfish girl.
"Stop whining, will ya." When that too is swept from your face, Mokou comes back into view, dressed in the same shirt as yesterday night, hair let loose as usual, swaying along the spastic movement of the rest of the body, as she wrestles with the shoes, that in their sparking spite - apparently refuse to come off just yet. "God, these things... I'm so going to kill Kaguya for this..."
"Wait," You try once more, tossing the clothes to the floor, where they belong, "You even brought your sleeping clothes?"
She casts you an angrily troubled glance from under the unruly fringe.
"It's been there for the last few days, ya dill." Half of the disobedient footwear surrenders with a silly snap. Mokou almost falls over when it hurls aside, disappearing somewhere in the shades. "For fuck's sake..." It doesn't discourage her from grabbing the only remaining one with equal zeal. You almost feel sorry for them. "... what a knock–!"
Here it goes, another shoe flinging through the room. It soon vanishes just like its predecessor - and for good. What made her dress like this anyway is beyond you. Grunting, angry as a bee, she straightens up, fixes the shirt that's mischievously unbuttoned during the whole ordeal - and having done that, turns to you, scowling as ever when you return the favour with a questioning stare.
"Okay, so what exactly–" You ask. "–was the point of that?"
Mokou sweeps the ceiling with her eyes, and gives you a shrug.
"Kourin and Keine are all over each other, and I'm sure as hell not going to dance with Kaguya or Aya."
"I thought you weren't–" But instead of listening, she brushes past, not looking even once, and throws herself onto the bed, which squeaks pathetically under the sudden weight, even when the girl settled down, only wriggling around as to find a good position. Needless to say, rather than facing you, she seems to have taken a liking for the wall. "–feeling like dancing."
"Whatever." She rebuts with a snort, yet contrary to what you'd expect, actually rims over, and glances with one eye up at your baffled expression. Once again, her eyes roll around, her mouth groaning - displeased about what would seem to be a natural reaction to the sudden change of attitude - and not only it. The looks too, for –in a matter of seconds– she has changed from an endearing, albeit grumpy woman, to the everyday, barely dressed, testy girl whose silent, sleeping breath you've been coping up with for the last couple of nights. As though to hold you in invisible pincers, she continues to stare, draw your gaze to meet and tangle with hers, in a mute dialogue – and all of a sudden, her pretty, pink with lipstick lips curve up in a weak, unsure smile. For one reason or another, out of the blue, she seems to be happy about something. "Come," She says, in a voice so calm and nice it sends shivers down your spite - but shivers of the warm, pleasant kind. Her body shifts back, freeing you a spot to take, right by her head. "Sit down."
"What for?" She frowns a bit at your distressed question, but returns the smile to her face soon enough not to make you back away. "You're being scary, Mokou."
"Really?" She lets out a bitter giggle. "I'm just happy, that's all. Why, you ask?" Her words quickly zip your mouth shut. "Because I won for once. Don't ask." And again. "Just come and sit. What're you being antsy about?"
"What–?" That is the question - what are you being antsy about? Maybe it's about her voice - the voice you came to knew back in the days of your going out - the voice she would always use to... "Last time I listened to such a request, you know what happened."

Now she's straight-out grinning, dipping you deeper in stupefied bewilderment. Really, to make fun of these things - just what is that girl thinking? But that aside, more importantly, perhaps you should pay attention to the fact all of the features she's been showing off have –due to that smile– suddenly become... painfully blatant and clear?The leg she raises just a few inches, the barely visible clue of her panties somewhere in the slit between her shirt's halves, the bellybutton peering from one of the gaps - the straps of her bra shining through the thin fabric - that abruptly appear so uncomfortable you feel inclined to suggest taking it off – but remain silent. All of it, and many, many more, out of nowhere, come firing at your eyes.
Or, instead of growing aware all of a sudden of her gentle lure, you ought to ponder the reason of not noticing it in the first place? It's all the memories, the wretched memories of the happy days spent at her side that make you see her that way, again. Just when you learned not to notice it any more, she has to come out and dig up these long forgotten images, the body that you've known–
"You got the best blow job of your miserable, uneventful life." In a voice so firm and serious it feels oddly repulsive used for such a phrase, she makes your remember that one night – that one, unfortunate night months ago, where in the same, grim, damp darkness, the two of you– "Is that a bad thing?"
"Mokou," You squeeze out through the clenched throat. "Have you been drinking?"
"Not at all." Her steady tone suggests no lies. "You, on the other hand look really tense. What's wrong?" A hand runs through her chest, stretching the gap on her cleavage even more. "Really, really tense." Again, one of her legs moves. Her eyes, persistently fixated at yours, reveal nothing, but careful anticipation. No hints of jokes or malice, just... That wary kind of fever. Shuffle, shuffle, the rustling of her clothes drills in your head. "Take it easy." She whispers. "Come, sit down. Let lil' Mokou help you relax. Hm? How about it?"
Kiss goodbye one mood, and welcome another –it may have been a mistake to stay with Mokou, the two of you alone in an empty room, with no one else around–... Or just the opposite - maybe it's a chance? The way she smiles feels so nostalgic, with the fiery eyes honest like you haven't seen them for weeks. Inviting, seducing, almost intoxicating with their radiant hope.
[ ] "Oh, Mokou." Sprawl by her, then pat that head, ruffle her hair - just to make those eyes disappear for a moment. "You're such a bad, bad joker."
[ ] "You heard that?" Put a hand by your ear. "I think I heard someone calling my name. If you'll excuse me for just a moment–"
[ ] She can't be serious. No way she would. Even if it is a trap, what is there to stop you from plunging head-first into it?
[ ] This is a dream, right? One of those annoying, wet dreams you'd rather not go through. Make it wet - with tears. Sissy tears of despair. That's bound to help.

==

Hmm. Frankly, I did not see staying with Mokou coming, seeing how potential interaction with Myschi (someone has to watch over the party) was an alternative.

>>18828

[x] Walk out the room. This isn't right, you just wanted some time alone.
[x] "Sorry, Mokou. Something like this won't help me relax."

[x] Walk out the room. This isn't right, you just wanted some time alone.
[x] "Sorry, Mokou. Something like this won't help me relax."

{X} Walk out the room. This isn't right, you just wanted some time alone.
{X} "Sorry, Mokou. Something like this won't help me relax."

>seeing how potential interaction with Myschi (someone has to watch over the party) was an alternative.

FFFFFFFFF

[x] Walk out the room. This isn't right, you just wanted some time alone.
[x] "Sorry, Mokou. Something like this won't help me relax."

Sorry firebird, the flame is gone.

[x] Walk out the room. This isn't right, you just wanted some time alone.
[x] "Sorry, Mokou. Something like this won't help me relax."

Couldn't think of something better. Plus the other options don't really appeal to me.

[X] "Oh, Mokou." Sprawl by her, then pat that head, ruffle her hair - just to make those eyes disappear for a moment. "You're such a bad, bad joker."

That was fast. Ten minutes.

Or less.

==

[x] Walk out the room. This isn't right, you just wanted some time alone.
[x] "Sorry, Mokou. Something like this won't help me relax."


'Used to', 'would', past tense, in every sentence - the keyword she seems to be missing - a relic no longer current, lost in oblivion that fateful day. Her wish is wrong - however wrong a wish can be - she's clearly hoping for something that ought not to be. Behind the fiery eyes lurks nothing but naïve, little girl - who sees no problem with resorting to the most ridiculous, inapposite way possible to imagine. How can she-- How could she have possibly thought it would work? Why does she persists in slowly revealing more and more of that voluptuous body, square centimeter by square centimeter, teasing like a mischievous, childish girl, lifting her skirt. The cute, white teeth peeking from between her parted lips only strengthen the image - she doesn't know what she's doing. It's in the past, it's ALL in the past!
You can't take it - both her behaviour and the fact you've allowed yourself to think of her that way once more. The irreparable problems are best left alone, bequeathed behind with no regret. It takes an army to pry your eyes away from her grossly alluring body, yet you somehow manage to achieve it without external help -- and not only that. Your feet, perhaps wiser than the brain, at least at the moment, lead you straight to the door, making nothing of Mokou's astonishment. Astonishment she doesn't fail to voice, in spite of it not helping at all. She doesn't get a single thing.
"Hey! Where are you going?!"
By the knob, hangs a key - definitely not yours, with a little plaque strapped to it on a piece of string - pushed into the lock all the way in. She thought of everything, didn't she - this way, no one would be able to open it from the outside, even with a dozen of keys to help. This is getting more and more ridiculous with every second. Escape - you won't be able to rest this way. Not with this disturbing, unusual Mokou to accompany.
"Sorry, Mokou." Loud click of freedom sounds when you turn the key. "Something like this won't help me relax."
"Wait--!" She screams, but the time is up - the door swings ajar - and you step outside. Gust of cold air comes from the hall outside, a wave of cool relief, venting all the heat away. "I was joking! Where are you going--?!"
SLAM!
No more jesting lightly of things so important. No more screaming lies. Her voice falls silent, though gradually, as you walk --no, dash past the other rooms-- away, and away, far enough not to hear her pleading yells.


Before long, they fade out completely, and you are left to wander alone, only the hint of a melody looming somewhere on the edge of hearing.

That, and the humming of the rain, not audible in the corridors... but stuck echoing inside your head.


You did the right thing.


(...)


By pure chance, the same feet that saved you from accidentally doing something inappropriate with Mokou, happen to swing by the ground floor, stopping by a pair of vitraged, swinging doors, beyond which lays the large, 'official' dining room, never till now used during the Circle's stay here - now with a lively tune coming from behind, drawing closer these resigned legs of yours, which helpless against the invitation, shuffle to peek through the glass.
In a hall way too large for only a couple of youngsters, in a single corner, there seems to have gathered a group of students, each dressed in flashy clothes - some more lewd than the others - swaying to the music, with Kaguya as the DJ behind a big, black console by the wall. Aya, tittuping about with Akyu - both wearing skirts that are way too short - clung to her hands, looks to be having fun, while Keine and Kourin jazz it out in a brisk, but coordinated dance. They really do fit one another like bread and butter, no matter the age difference. At one of the tables, you spot the one whose presence brightens the atmosphere up a solid couple of lumens - Myschi, regrettably not wearing any revealing costumes, standing by a table bent under the weight of numerous plates full of snacks and drinks on top. Amazingly, she seems to be having a real jolly time just looking at the two pairs sweating their troubles out on the parquet.
It all may click perfectly, but seeing how they're all cramped in only one of the corners of the giant hall, it also looks somewhat silly.

[ ] Stealthily join the playing mini-crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.
[ ] Aya spreading her influence to Akyu is not a desirable thing. Save the little fan from the witch's claws!
[ ] Leave. They're fine on their own, no need to interfere. Seek peace elsewhere.

[ ] Stealthily join the playing mini-crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.

>You did the right thing.
Damn right. Annoying bitch.

{X} Stealthily join the playing mini-crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.

[x] Stealthily join the playing mini-crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.

Isn't it sad Mokou? You keep trying to hold onto the past, when you should look to a better future. Preferably without us involved.

[x] Stealthily join the playing mini-crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.

[x] Stealthily join the playing mini-crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.

[X] Stealthily join the playing mini-crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.

[x] Aya spreading her influence to Akyu is not a desirable thing. Save the little fan from the witch's claws!

Moukou ;_;

Sorry for the delay - my laptop's OS went bonkers without a warning.

Safe mode writing, expect me in ten minutes.

[x] Aya spreading her influence to Akyu is not a desirable thing. Save the little fan from the witch's claws!

Needs more delicious Aya.

[X] Stealthily join the playing mini–crowd. If anyone's to notice you first, it shall be Myschi.

The lights of festivals have since the dawn of history been luring shagged wanderers towards towns and villages – and although this place lacks the ardour and swing of a full–blown fete, with the food, the music and joyful participants, it could be – with a little bit of zeal – called one – and who are you to resists the notorious, loud call of it, while all a huge, gaping hole in your chest yearns for is a bit of fluff to fill it? If all the cakes and sweets look as half as delicious as the one watching over them, it should be worth it to step into Aya's ring of influence. Hold the grudge – or release it? – the question sails on your thoughts as you swiftly slip inside, thanks to the loud, reel pop storming from the speakers, virtually unheard for anyone but your tiny, slouching self.
The vitraged doors snap shut behind, as you meander through the maze of tables, columns and chairs, getting closer, unnoticed, from where the spot of warmth in a sea on unfriendly chunks of ice taps her shoe to the rhythm, only watching from afar as her guests play oblivious to your presence. Not that she herself is aware of it, until you personally step up to her back, and tap a finger on her right shoulder – then quickly scoot past the other. She looks back, quite confused, and almost jumps when you come into view, already scanning the table for a good morsel to soothe the mental pain.
Yet instead of the table, you find it in Myschi's polite smile.
"You came." She says, and miraculously, her voice carries through the storm of music almost unaffected. "I was beginning to worry you would miss it."
"Why here?" You query about the peculiar fact, and Myschi puts a finger to her ear, cocking her head to the side. Louder. "Why here, of all places?!"
"Ah!" She blinks, as though realizing how silly it was of her not to catch a question so obvious. "Most of the guests have suddenly signed off!" She explains with a nod. "So I asked the boss if we could use the big hailers! She said–" Myschi gestures to the ceiling. "–that we wouldn't be disturbing anyone, so it was okay!" As to mark the end of line, she pauses for a moment, giving you the same, warm smile as before. "She's leaving in the morning too, but her room is in the other wing!"
"Leaving?!" You shout. Miraculously, no one but Myschi has noticed you yet. Could be due to their natural negligence and the heat of fun, or simply because you're standing behind a mountain of sweets. Either of the two, a piece of peace is always welcome. "Why are they leaving, at this time of day? It's raining!"
"I don't know!" Myschi shrugs. "Look outside!"
Following her pointing finger, you shift your eyes to the nearest window, behind which, barely visible, looms a small parking lot – on which, in the mist of gray rain, bustle about numerous figures of several groups of people. None can be seen clearly, but it's apparent the elder couple you saw earlier today wasn't the only one leaving. It must be a pain, to get packed up in this kind of weather... Someway, it makes you ponder about how the Theater Club guys did. They've already left, haven't they? That means, only you, Aya and her friend, Mokou, Kaguya, Kourin, Keine, Akyu and of course Myschi remain here... Plus any likely guests wise enough not to catch a cold on the day of departure. Back to Myschi, she seems to have been patiently waiting with hands clasped on her waist – and when you look at her, she pricks up her ears, nervously. 'I'll hold you to that promise' – she said, and the unstrung honesty that looks from her eyes seems to remember it well. Too well, perhaps.
"Uh..."
"Yes?" She throws, her smile growing slightly in length. Creepy as it would be on a normal girl, on her, it's rather heartwarming. "What is it?"
"Ah, no, er..." You can't possibly tell her you're looking forward to it as well, now can you? It's kind of awkward, but at least the one stumbling on the words and blushing here is not her for once – but you. Pardon, at least? It should be rather regrettable, no? Who would have thought saying something like that would make you feel so uneasy... But it's these eyes' fault – these eyes alone can and do make a man's heart race. "Myschi, I–" –may want to say something, but before it happens, the music fades silent, a cheer sounding from both Aya's and Akyu's mouths. The song has ended, and with it, your cover. "Aw crap."
She spots you immediately – the girl in black and white, the very one who swept the floor with your ego mere hours ago – Aya casts you a malicious grin, and having given Akyu a nod, leaps towards your – your and Myschi's – surprised duo.
"General Knot!" She blurts happily with a salute. "We've been waiting for you!"
"Aya–"
"I've been waiting for you." Not giving you a chance to retaliate, she grabs a hold of your wrist. "Kaguya!" And shouts to the DJ – who only grants you a single, greeting glance before taking off the oversized headphones. "Give me a slow one!"
"Right–o!" Kaguya bobs her chin, and puts the shells back on.
"Come on," Aya tugs at your arm, urging towards the dance floor. "I owe you this."

[ ] Just follow – there must be a greater reason for this, and she has mentioned before the wish to dance with you at least once.
[ ] "Actually, I wanted to play with Akyu for a bit." Break free, and catch the little one "Akyu! Shall we dance?"
[ ] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"
[ ] "Hey, how about we give Kaguya a chance to have some fun first? I'm sure you'll be able to handle the music for a few minutes."

>>18854

>[x] Grab Myschi's hand. Get ready to bolt.
>[x] "Run Myschi! The crow will be on our tail!

Nah...

[x] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

[X] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

[x] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

Of the three birds, the sparrow is the best.

「x」 "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

[x] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

[X] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

>You did the right thing.

ah fuck.
Guess i lied when i said i will always read what you write.
I will show myself out.

>>18854
[X] Just follow – there must be a greater reason for this, and she has mentioned before the wish to dance with you at least once.

Just because she'll make our lives even more miserable if at least one part of her little plans doesn't pan out.

{X} "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

Jesus christ Aya is annoying.

[x] "Actually, I wanted to play with Akyu for a bit." Break free, and catch the little one "Akyu! Shall we dance?"

>Hmm. Frankly, I did not see staying with Mokou coming, seeing how potential interaction with Myschi (someone has to watch over the party) was an alternative.

Way to stay impartial.

[x] "I ain't associating with you until the battlefield is cleared".
[x] Yank your hand away from her in disgust.

[ ] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

>>18875
Yeah... the whole experience has started to feel less genuine in the last week. Things like 'after that choice, you are feeling absolutely defeated' and 'since you decided to do that, you have just done the right thing' are popping into the narrative with distressing frequency. Worse yet, they are proving to be less of an observation on the part of Actornon than they are of an evaluation of our response by the writer. Right now it feels like we need to pick what the writer wants us to choose to see anything remotely positive occur.
Normally I'd be fine with that since it's an author's prerogative to handle a story however they want, but after what was enunciated in >>18372 the approach so far has been distressingly disingenuous. I mean when something like >>18531 results in >>18573 I begin to wonder just how much say the audience has in the story beyond trying to guess what the author wants them to guess.
It's pretty frustrating to see it turn out like this, especially when anon's ideas had been so seemlessly integrated into the story before. Maybe I need to step back and reevaluate my expectations.

>>18954
YAF tends to ignore big words.

In summary for the asshat himself - you're being selfish again and ignoring what anon wants, you prick. I agree with this man completely.

>>18867

The other YAF fan here. Hold the door, will you? I'm still waiting to see how this one turns out.

>>18954
sadly, i can only agree too.

Maybe you should really start to plan routes and the characters again YAF but i guess that would only end in stress and depression for you.

>>18954
>Worse yet, they are proving to be less of an observation on the part of Actornon than they are of an evaluation of our response by the writer.

Wrong. These remarks are meant to express and emphasize the mood that ought to accompany the protagonist in certain moments, not to express my opinion about the story's going. The one and only time I felt displeased about the readers' choice was in >>18765 - and only becauase I was sick and tired of you continuously trying to trick Aya, instead of utilizing the traits this protagonist has at his disposal. Fight not with the feet - but with the word. That it is restricting the possibilities of leading the story? Of course, but back to the analogy from >>18372 - he is a clean card, but only a card. No matter how hard you try, you're never going to make it into a knife. Employ what you have, but don't attempt to use what you don't. Cards are meant to be played with, not rape and pillage, not to be thrown from twenty-stories tall buildings, not to start forest fires with a single gesture of the hand. On the other hand, cards [b]do[/] have sharp edges too, with which you could attempt to cut someone while a knife is unavailable - exactly what happened with Kaguya on the first in-game night. That tiny, little suggestion at first didn't lay within my plans, but it fit the style and skills of the protagonist perfectly - and was used on a proper, applicable person. It wouldn't work on Aya, it probably wouldn't work on Keine, but Kaguya was a perfect target for such treatment.
There is freedom, but we all know no freedom without restrictions exists in this world.

About >>18573 - that is a perfect case of using the skills Actornon has, but on a wrong person, at a wrong time. You have completely misconceived your abilities. What would have worked flawlessly on Aya - theatrics - you tried to use on someone absolutely daft in terms of acting. And vice versa - what would have worked on your ordinary girl, you used on someone whose whole life revolved about cinematography. For these mistakes, you are being punished.
Plus - I admit - there was also the thing of me being unable to think of a proper reaction from Myschi's side to fit the write-in - incidentally for the sole reason mentioned above.
Don't re-evaluate your expectations - instead, try to measure your strength through the prism of your abilities.
Not to mention treating the bottle as though it was some kind of a critically significant plothook, instead of focusing on respecting the will of The Many the girls and their needs.

>>18970
no

>>18970
Hate to keep derailing your threads, so some final thoughts before I just shut the fuck up.

>These remarks are meant to express and emphasize the mood that ought to accompany the protagonist in certain moments
I'm not convinced Actornon would have known walking away from Mokou would have been the 'right thing.' Maybe a sense of relief, exhiliration, peace of mind, satisfaction... but not 'the right thing.' It's too conclusory; shouldn't we, as the reader, be able to figure out how the mood based on what was written? I guess that's some literary criticism in the end, so whatever.

>Employ what you have, but don't attempt to use what you don't.
>You have completely misconceived your abilities.
>instead, try to measure your strength through the prism of your abilities.
Then can we please access the character stats page so we can read the descriptions of our skills? I know it's not as simple as that, but you've clearly got some pretty definite ideas as to what we can and cannot do. I'm hard pressed to single out instances where you've described those to us outside this card analogy. Our attempts to define or employ them usually end in failures, and where we do succeed I'm not entirely sure how we did it.

Same thing with the Touhous. You have a command of what their personalities and behaviors are; we're getting fragments of those through the (sometimes confusingly) verbose and opinionated filter of how Actornon perceives things. For the most part, the characters so far have been indecipherable in regards to trying to understand their motivations and predicting how they'll react. Take the vote that's presently winning: I don't know which Myschi is going to respond. Is it the one that ate up our 'heaven' line and stood up to an enraged Mokou, or is it going to be the easily flustered Myschi that couldn't grasp our little performance? This is for the one of the characters we have the best grasp on and I still can't peg this one.

Hopefully more will be revealed as the story proceeds and interactions become more involved, but it still feels like we're 'guessing' more than we are 'deciding.'

Finally, ya can't blame anon for obsessing over the bottle. It's the only thing (up til recently) that has hinted at anything resembling a plot. Perhaps it's an overly successful red herring, but in a story where we drift from one awkward encounter to another, I think a lot of people would rather pursue something more concrete.

>>18983
>a good time to take a break from BLAIR.

>>18983

By the order - 'the right thing' suggested nervousness. Desperate, albeit relatively calm convincing his own self about the righteousness of his actions - a normal thing for a nice guy to do, since it was pretty obvious Mokou wouldn't take it well.
Yes, my stories need a little bit more thinking and careful observation than some of the others - there are no mysterious glands, ascii horsecocks, super-duper hax powers, Gensokyo in heat - none of these things. When it comes to characters, they never do anything outside their usual set of actions (for instance, Aya's back in her room, or Mokou's a couple of posts ago) without a good reason - everything has a proper cause, and by reading just a tad bit deeper, you can see what I - as the writer - saw when I wrote the scene. Just like >>18787 noticed, Aya has no grasp on the sense of right and wrong, truth and lies, play and reality - and to top it off, she doesn't realize her own - sometimes questionable - behaviour, like the latest conversation revealed. That is why she had decided to use the other two girls' appeal points - Mokou's leg exposure, and Myschi's clumsiness combined with intimate paternity. 'I don't want to see you get hurt'. Precisely because she is not aware of her own strong and weak points. The reasons remain concealed, but given proper circumstances, you may or may not find out soon. Why did you try to reason with a person to whom the concept of seriousness is completely foreign - I don't know. There is a saying that goes: when you walk into a flock of crows, you've got to croak like their lot - or something along the lines. Adjust your actions to the character you're dealing with. Myschi won't play secret agent with you - while Aya would agree without a second thought. Mokou will never discuss the movie with you - whilst Kaguya would participate eagerly. Akyu won't appreciate being hit on in an adult manner - where Keine would at least play along for as long as it's innocent enough. You won't make a knife out of a card, you won't make a Freud out of Don Kichot, you won't make a Tolkien out of Honoré de Balzac. Play, but within the rules of common sense - don't send infantry against fortified positions, and don't send tanks into bulding interiors. That is what I meant by measuring your strength through the prism of abilities - not the abilities per se, but more of the abilities as in possible, utilizable skills depending on the character you're interacting with.

About the indecipherability - let me explain on the example of Mokou. It has been clearly underlined that Actornon is not in a relationship with anyone, and that Mokou had been his girlfriend for some time, before the two broke up. It has also been hinted at (actually, it was more like throwing it in your faces) that Mokou still has - strong - feelings towards Actornon. But, here goes the painful splinter - after a while of not being interested in other girls from his nearest vicinity (anyone from the Movie Circle), he suddenly finds a girl that not only takes a liking to him, but also doesn't fail to show it on every step. Obviously, she would begin to feel endangered, given how Actornon has been acting oblivious and sometimes straight-out ignorant of her sneaky repeated advances (the scene on the balcony). Yet she holds back the first natural reaction - namely, getting rid of the source of the problem, since it has also been said that by Kaguya's help, she had evolved from a rough, coarse girl to someone tolerable, but retains the harsh exterior most of the time (old habits die hard) - and grits her teeth, until an accident happens, where Actornon almost loses his life (shrine incident), and arrives at the hotel unconscious. Morbidly worried, she begun to smoke herself dead out of concern, only to have the guy wake up and on the spot start flirting with Myschi. What happened next? She snapped - at the girl who'd been bothering her for so long. Then, by the guy she had been so worried about nonetheless, she was driven from the room. Kaguya happened, we all know what proceeded next. She was told not to cling to the past - shown that crying wouldn't help (not that it ever does), and advised to move on. Yet, she wouldn't be herself if she listened to something like that. One point off the list - fishing for pity - failed. He doesn't need her. But maybe if she shows that the other way around, it's still actual..."How can a woman appeal to a man? First answer that comes to mind - through his testes. It has been said that the one 'dressing' Mokou is Kaguya - and Kaguya was the one who answered Mokou's request for 'sexy' clothes. Hence the 'hooker' outfit in the scene not long ago. Of course, being the harshly timid girl she is - she had to have an excuse. There was an ample one at hand - Aya's party. It's wasn't hard to deduce that Mokou didn't feel comfortable in that getup - that is why she quickly disposed of it after the excuse had been erased (he's not going to dance, so I have no reason to either, not to mention wearing this piece of crap). The assault then proceeded along the prematurely chosen path - sex appeal. Mokou's not daft, though - there's no way she would ever believe the kinky suggestion she made would be taken seriously - because, let's be honest here - who would? A straightforward blow job proposition from an ex-girlfriend? Cut me some slack.
Not to concentrate too much one one character. Myschi is a honest girl - even Mokou pointed it out. Why you'd hide anything from her while she doesn't hide anything unless it lays within the innocent flirting. She's always being honest, and expects honesty in return. Honesty you denied her.
I apologize - BLAIR isn't a story you can just skim through and pick whichever choice the majority is voting on - if you want to understand the characters and therefore achieve something. In order to get some action, you need to give your brain some activity beforehand.

About the FFFFFF in >>18834 - if you've ever been to an official party or a conference, you ought to know there's ALWAYS someone from the staff watching over the guests. Sometimes for as long as eight-nine hours into the morning. I - being an ex-waiter for a hotel's restaurant - know this rule too well. It wasn't that hard to deduct who would be watching over Aya and the rest.

>>18986
Probably.

>>18988
Thanks for some of the clarifications/elaborations. Hopefully it'll help stimulate some more thoughtful decision making. It sucks that I have to argue this with the writer instead of anon.

There's more, but I'd prefer more story now.

>In order to get some action, you need to give your brain some activity beforehand.

Unfortunately, YAF, for all your explanation as to the principals' thoughts processes, desires, and expectations, you're missing a critical element. The advice to be different things to different people, to play to their fantasies, in return for affirmation, or sex, or whatever, is a prime example of this flaw: The protagonist is a cipher--there's bitter monologue and description to be sure, but we don't know his goals are, his feelings for X or Y, his M.O. or raisons d'etre. He seems to be constantly wishing he were somewhere else, and for the life of me, I don't see why he just doesn't write this whole thing off and walk away.

So he's an actor. But the worst bit is that he's a bad one. For all his unvoiced complaints, for every cutting remark muttered under his breath, every bit of posturing, he is so weak, flimsy, and ineffectual that he might be blown away in a strong wind--a paper tiger. And everyone seems to know it> Here is a flirty, witty, handsome man who has a real difficulty saying 'no'. Of course, they going to play with him; if only to satisfy their egos, but they know it need not ever go beyond that. They were all so worried about him when he was unconscious that the first thing they all did was reprimand him for 'worrying' them, ignoring the person on whom the actual blame lies, and then seek to monopolize his attention because they were 'worried about him' and then get huffy when others try to do the same.

Mokou is a terribly caustic and introverted person, and this was after Kaguya had fixed her up. She seems to carry a flame for him, but he doesn't claim to know why; I can't see any real chemistry. On one hand he does everything he can to accommodate her. (Letting your ex- sleep in your room? Come on.) After Kaguya gives him what should've been a wholly unnecessary protip, he goes to comfort her, but then turns it right around by reminding her that they're no longer in any kind of relationship (which if true obviates his reason for comforting her in the first place).

Kaguya flirts with her for affirmation, but her only real use for you is that she can manipulate Mokou by manipulating you. One night stand material only.

Aya is... well you said it yourself. She's nuts, as if she were on a permanent cocaine bender.

Even his friendship with the dour Kourin is one-sided.

What we have is too few truly sympathetic characters (including the protagonist), set up so that there seems nothing that could be done to rehabilitate them.

Misty seems the one exception in the general vice of the cast, but this comes at the cost of being boring.

tl;dr: This is a very well written story with wholly uncompelling characters.

>>18994
>So he's an actor. But the worst bit is that he's a bad one.
Perfect, straight on the nail, bullseye at one hundred meters. Magnificently pinpointed. The story of his career suggested nothing less than him being exactly that - a poor actor. He starred in next to no movies, his acting is sub-par at best, the perspectives for future - not so bright. The only fan to appreciate and like his work is Akyu, and she's a little girl, still lost in the maze of childish confusion - unaware of her 'idol' being a sorry excuse for what she deems him to be. In literary terms, we call this sort of mental image an animus (No relation to a certain video game).
That is what your base is - an Ace of Spades, where all the players see its folded corner. Kaguya took advantage of it for her own devices - the ones you misconceived, but there hasn't been quite enough interaction to make sure of that - I don't blame you. Mokou attempted to exploit the Ace in her own play, but failed due to the players' - You, my readers - pulling off a move the Ace on his own wouldn't have thought of. He's a blank, wretched card, and it lays in your abilities, as well as - I think - goals to straighten up the edge, and paint a giant J on both the sides. Then, throw it into play, born anew as a different person - but for that, you'd need to observe. Carefully proceed, find a moment when no one is looking, then whip the sharpie out, and start messing with the poor ex-Ace. In other words, gently meddle with his actions, not raising any suspicions from anyone.
He is naught but a puppet in your hands - his past bleaches in comparison to the power of your orders. It is you who shape his present - and it is you who are able to change it. No one else. He has no goals, other than living to fulfill your will. Think of it as playing Gene Pool, Evolution or The Sims with AI turned off - the scripts made to force a whine whenever the Swimbot/Creep/Sim feels bad are still going to work, but they won't affect your control over their actions. If you want to make him into something else - go ahead, you have my blessing. Just remember, a card will not become a knife, though the edges can be sharpened. Within the boundaries of the story, you're allowed to roam free as you will. Paint a Joker, another Ace, a King, even a Queen, if you want. Just don't play them against wrong match-ups.

>He goes to comfort her, but then turns it right around by reminding her that they're no longer in any kind of relationship (which if true obviates his reason for comforting her in the first place).
We think alike, although I still enjoyed writing clingy Mokou - and the time spent on coming up with all these descriptions wasn't a wasted one. Why, then? The reason is simple - the actions from the previous day, as well as comments from both the boards and IRC assured me of one thing - Actornon shouldn't stop thinking of Mokou as his ex-. Like I've already remarked somewhere else, it's the present that shapes the past, and so, these comments, as well as decisions led to the creation of a certain 'block' in Actornon's head - when one gets out of a relationship with a girl, he usually attempts to cease thinking of her as a - pardon my crude expression - fuckable object. It's better that way, if the two are to remain friends. I actually discussed this with a classmate of mine - who has a better grasp on female psychology than I could ever hope to have - and she approved of this sort of unfolding. What's more - she clearly stated "You should let or make her cry. Tears always do some good in situations like these." - and no, not for the relationship, but for the girl's own psyche. So the supposedly contradicting line from Actornon.
But then again, it didn't stop Mokou from coming to purr at his feet again. It wouldn't have stopped him from abiding by a command to suddenly change his way of thinking - if so you had ordered, even in the face of Mokou's ridiculous joke two updates ago. He feels depressed, because you've been flinging him from girl to girl during the course of the last in-game day all the time - but it doesn't affect your control at all. Listen to his whining - or ignore it. If you want him to stop, make him. Nothing happens on its own - nor will there be delicious birds - be it the night, the fire or the black one - to consume in candlelight, if you don't mobilize your forces, and don't start mowing down the enemy, without accidental ricochets pissing off neighbouring countries. Because they ARE going to fire back, and it is going to hurt. A lot.


>Aya is... well you said it yourself. She's nuts, as if she were on a permanent cocaine bender.
I like to think of her as more of a spoiled child, not a loony.

>Misty seems the one exception in the general vice of the cast, but this comes at the cost of being boring
Indeed, she is the easiest one to understand and like - thanks to her built-in honesty that makes her less of a mystery to solve, and more of a card with a transparent back. Even if she hides her intentions, seeing through her is a matter of a single glance.
That is also why her character is the most shallow of all the cast.

>>19000
I see you've dodged the question a couple times now in favor of waxing philosophical about the characters. But you already talked about it before, so I can assume that precedent and your current silence on the topic reinforces a truth about the story: there's no plot. Nothing to be accomplished except what we choose to do and to deal with how you decide to interpret it. So, in order to make Actornon's situation not shit, we have to find some kind of external factor (that a majority of anon agree to most of the time) to provide the motivation to put in the time and effort to make as many informed and educated decisions as possible?

>>19004
Anon writes the story for YAF?

>>19005
Yup, or that's the line he's sticking to at least.

>>18372
>In other words, this time around, it's the votes that form the story, not the pre-planned scenario or some greater plot looming behind all the innocent (innocent?) flirting and chitchattery.

>He's a blank, wretched card, and it lays in your abilities, as well as - I think - goals to straighten up the edge, and paint a giant J on both the sides. Then, throw it into play, born anew as a different person - but for that, you'd need to observe. Carefully proceed, find a moment when no one is looking, then whip the sharpie out, and start messing with the poor ex-Ace.

Basically, what I'm getting out of this is:

The main character is inherently unreliable and broken from the start. He would only continue to grow more meek, detached, ashamed, and resigned to misery as time went on.

He keeps coming across things that should put his life into perspective: Youki, the corpses, the shrine...

However, he is far too self-involved to really notice, even now trying to micromanage his relationships.

The Joker metaphor, I'll assume, is meant for the voter. Eventually, you seem to think, that Anon will decide "I've had enough! You, get the hell out of my room! You, put on a pair pants, you silly whore!" And so on.

Unfortunately this is not going to happen. We've seen it in MiG and LAE time and again. When things start looking grim, Anon becomes set in "harm avoidance" mode, aiming to make choices that minimize the possibility of catastrophe in the next update, and so constantly hedges his bets, rewords the choices and write-ins to sound as inoffensive as possible, compromising to the point where we're left only with a series of disjointed half-measures and flying with a broken targeting computer, when it may be clear as day to someone who isn't emotionally invested in the story that there is something wrong with how the voter is approaching things.

I'm glad that YAF and anon agree that this guy is a joke - and why? Well, you're both at fault for that one. Anon, you keep voting for stupid shit, and YAF, you just want to throw everyone into despair.

A good reader doesn't ruin the story for other people - a good writer doesn't let his emotions alter his work.

>>19011
>>19017
I do wonder if the readership can support the type of story the writer wants it to be. It needs people pouring over past updates and arguing the merits of one choice over another with evidence and thought. It gets what its gotten.

One idea would be to go write-in only for a while to see what happens. Let the people that would actually do the research and synthesis come up with options instead of giving the lemmings quick 'n dirty choices.

>>19019
I support your idea.

It worked great with Owen. He had few voters but massive discussion about every aspect of the story, the last updates and which path would be best to take. Of course let's not forget the spectacular write ins that people could choose.

>Let the people that would actually do the research and synthesis come up with options instead of giving the lemmings quick 'n dirty choices.

I wonder if there are enough of those people in here. If not, it is bound to fail...

>>19019
Include strict [Write-In:Yes], [Write-In:No] tags. And don't assume, such as when going down to he party would lead to potential Mystia interaction because we were to somehow know that she would be there as some sort of business chaperone. We probably avoided the party to match our mood and because we wanted to avoid Aya. (On the other hand, choice 4 for >>18826 and >>18829 is just--just where does that come from?).

Here's how I see it. The audience sees two MacGuffins: Mystia and the bottle. At the moment, Kaguya and Mokou are consequences of Mystia. Aya and Keine are consequences of the bottle. Akyu is an outlier, and Keine's relationship to Kourin is a "reminds me of ..." bridge we can walk between the two MacGruffins. The problem with the relationship subplot is that there is colorful language and hinting but nothing truly exposition garnering in regards to anything more than unconditional behavior. The bottle subplot just proved frustrating - we legitimately outwitted Aya ("Ah-ha! But you forget I have another key to the locked door!") only to be stopped by unexplained character phenomena.

Moreover, when do the characters stop being vehicles? With most of them we haven't had a single conversation that wasn't overshadowed with their gig. Whenever Mokou and us share breathing space, will the relationship subplot hang in the air? whenever we encounter Aya, will that bottle be hanging over our head?

>>19000
>That is also why her character is the most shallow of all the cast.
They're all shallow.

>>19004
Short errata before I indulge in compulsory education and return with a tangle of a mind in place of creativity: there is a plot, only now it lurks in the background, only peering out to the front from time to time, never too distinguishable, while preparations are being made for it to step out. The bottle does have something to do with it - remember, I don't like things laying around without a purpose - only a lot less than your obsession is making it out to be. Right now, we're still in the nouure stage of the story.

Ah, NOW I understand why I don't like BLAIR. I mean, I understand that I didn't like it, but I couldn't figure out why. It's because I can't bring myself to actually LIKE any of these characters.

Character development is the process of which unlikable flat characters become likable vibrant ones.

Give the fag some time to spin his story.

>>19033
>Give the fag some time to spin
We'll be having none of that around here.

>Character development is the process of which unlikable flat characters become likable vibrant ones.

Wrong.

>>19036
To be precise, an "unlikeable flat character" can be expounded upon and given exceptional detail and notable eccentricity so he gives the impression of a lot of things packaged with him--but can still be really unlikeable as a character. Likewise, a flat straightforward character can sometimes be really well-received; they risk falling into cliches but that does not make them bad.

It's either a case that the characters of the story are not sufficiently developing - being fleshed-out - or that their development is not contributing to their attractiveness. Personally, I'm not convinced in the dynamics of either the relationship we had or the relationship we have. We're only into the third thread, I'll grant that, but after having enough opportunity to build the foundation still feels weak.

As far as the bottle is concerned, if that does become important in conjunction with Aya's character, be careful. Remember what happened to Nathan in U.N.Owen's CYOA because of negative audience perception.

[X] "Actually, I just asked Myschi..." Turn to the girl. "Right?"

Adversities on every step - and all keen on messing up your fragile repose. If there's any of it left to ruin, that is, and if there is - the hand of the walking calamity lugging at your sleeve does its best to suck every last bit out. No way she would have a reason other than something shady yet again for this, and for the sake of your own psyche, and hence the psyche of everyone else, you'd better be off unwinding a little. For such a noble goal, lying shouldn't leave too many scars on the conscience. Peeking aside, Kaguya seems to be vigorously going through a list of some sort, nodding her head to the rhythm of the music only she can't hear - probably trying to choose something to suit Aya's taste in 'slow' music. Keine and Kourin are chatting about something in undertone, waiting for the tune to start, while Akyu... There she goes, running off to greet the girl who's just entered the hall - Aya's blonde friend herself - in the same, usual outfit. One more person to have neglected the ritual of dressing up for a party. She only gives your bunch a quick scan, then turns to catch the leaping little fan of yours. At least everybody's got a partner now, hm?
Everybody, huh...
"Actually..." Aya gives you a blank stare when you return your eyes to her. "I just asked Myschi."
"Did you?" She frowns. "I thought you were–"
"Right?" Right or not, Myschi can only blink dumbfounded when you cast her a concealed wink. There might go the only chance of postponing the fate Aya has concocted a little more. "Hm?"
"But I can't dance..." And indeed it goes, with a drop of her head. At least she hasn't straightforwardly denied the little lie, though the effect remains the same as it would have if she had - Aya regains her swashbuckling demeanor, and with renewed strength, resumes to yank at your wrist. Another complete loss to write down in the record... Or so you'd think - for in the instant Aya's mouth opens to urge once more, the quiet cook girl quickly cuts in, raising clenched fists up to her chest. A look of forced confidence paints itself over her cutely flustered face. "But I'll try!" She claims with a nod. "I can't dance, but I'll try!"
"See?" Success - and Aya realizes it full well. She only drops the efforts with a sigh when you turn to give her an indifferent shrug. "First come, first serve."
"Alright." Putting hands on her hips, she snorts, evidently annoyed. "Next one's mine, though. Got it?"
Got it - got, but past the head – no heed for the selfish words, you kidnap one of Myschi's forearms, and gently lead it - along with the owner - to the dancing floor, where stopping suddenly, she almost rams into your abruptly turned about chest - and would have, if you hadn't caught her shoulder at the last moment – all under Aya's lour, coming from a chair by the loaded table. At least she's found herself a fitting partner - and he better holds her till the song is over. Preferably for some more too. Snacks hastily disappear in her mouth, leaving only a creepy feeling in the back of your head as she devours pieces of oranges one after another. Enough - there's other focus points to concentrate on, and one of them just happens to be fidgeting about inches ahead.
Grabbing a hold of her hand, you put it over your own shoulder.
"Here." And instruct. "It's a classic, high-school-level stance. A bit silly, but easy enough."
"And..." She inquires timidly while you steal a glance at Kaguya, who has finally decided on the song, and is now changing the discs in the console. Not much time left, then. "The other?"
"The other shoulder, I guess. Or we can hold hands, if you wish."
"I'll take the shoulder, thank you." Saying so, visibly troubled by being so close all of a sudden, she shuffles closer, and wraps the delicate hands of hers around your neck. Bold, outright bold. She may be embarrassed, but isn't she being bold at the same time. Not bold enough not to jerk up when you put your palms at her hips – and certainly not bold enough to hide the light blush that sneaks onto her face when she looks up to yours. "Are you sure they're supposed to go on my bum?"
"Now that you mention it..." Regret all present, but you shift the unruly hands back to her sides. "... you're probably right."
"Not in front of everyone!"
She gives a conspiratorial whisper, but before you're able to respond...

The music starts, the lights dim out. A surge of sounds, naturally recognized, of a song deeply rooted in your memory - a classic. First off, a distinctive, guitar sequence, followed by another joining in, the same melody playing twice with a little gap in between. Seventy four, seventy five - your mind hints. Of all the possibilities, she just had to choose this one... What a malicious girl, that Kaguya. On the side, Keine and Kourin have already started swaying along to the rhythm, while you and Myschi remain still, standing in the open.
"Start turning."
You clue in, and take the first step. It's hard to call this a dance per se, but with a person who claims not to be able to dance - it will have to suffice. Carefully, she follows the notion - and begins to shift from one foot to another, trying to follow without killing your toes by an accident - persistently looking down at the floor beneath. She really can't dance, even as simply as this... It takes the whole first stanza for her to get accustomed to the regular movement - and that is when her chin finally raises, her eyes returning to yours - where they should have been in the first place.
"How am I doing?" She asks."Pretty bad, right?"
"Not at a–" The automatic answer that has somehow managed to jump out on its own hangs in mid-air due to Myschi's sharp glare. "–... yes, pretty bad."
"Knew it." The girl sighs. "I'm just not made for these things." And once again. The tip of her shoe lands on the toes of your right foot, but you persevere in silence. "Ack"
"Don't sweat it. There's nothing wrong–" Stomp. "–with being bad at something."
"So I really am bad..." She falls silent with these words, and so do you.
Seventy four, seventy five, drums and more guitar – in the sound of them, the tune of a familiar song, a pair of distressed people continues to lazily turn about, swaying gently left and right with every unsure step, looking into each other's eyes – undecided. It feels great to have her so close, in the dim light of the hall's lights, in the atmosphere of serene alienation the darkness provides, with only another pair, now too busy with itself, bustling about far enough to feel comfortable - with no one else in sight - and even though they're there, the two of you don't care - and simply keep on staring into each other's eyes, 'dancing' to the best of your abilities.

Until the song ends, in a repeated several times, fading out refrain. The timid girl keeps on spinning for a few seconds after it finally dies out, until the lights go back on, when she pulls back, looking somewhere to the side, biting her lip.
"I'm sorry." She says. "I'm really not good at this."
Only now when her body escapes your grasp, you begin to feel how warm she was. Not only in the literal sense - just having her look up, with that strange spark in her eyes was enough to light some inner flame... And she says she's not good at this?
"No," You smile, and shake your head. "In a way, you're great."
"Aw, don't you go on flooding me with compliments." As though a stone fell off her chest, she returns to the usual, smiling face without a flinch. "Better go give your friend that promised dance, before she rips you apart. I like you more in one piece~." With a grin so bright, she brings the black fleck of a problem back to your mind. That's right - Aya. You've completely forgotten, but now looking at it–... She's already stood up, and is on her way to your side again. "I need to go to the kitchen for a second, so please, don't tip over any expensive vases while I'm gone~."

[ ] "Wait, can I, uh, go with you? You could use a hand if there's anything heavy to shift, no? ... or something. Please?"
[ ] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.
[ ] Not yet. Think... toilet! Going to the toilet for a moment shouldn't be any odd, no?

==

Hmm. I am still not quite sure, but we ought to get the train moving first before making it into a wreck, am I mistaken?

[ ] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.

>"I need to go to the kitchen for a second, so please, don't tip over any expensive vases while I'm gone~."

I JOSTLE THE VASE ACCIDENTALLY.

[x] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.

Quit stalling and get it over with.

[x] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.

[ ] "Wait, can I, uh, go with you? You could use a hand if there's anything heavy to shift, no? ... or something. Please?"

[x] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.

Big Boss is all i needed to hear.

>>19044
>"Not in front of everyone!"

Giggity.

>>19045
[X] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.

Even if she wants him, Myschi wouldn't want Actornon breaking any promises now. Also, why a slow song? I propose something with a little more panache. A film buff like Kaguya might just have the soundtrack for "Scent of a Woman" with a nice version of Por Una Cabeza. Regardless of Actornon's ability to tango, it's a tune that is both lively and subdued (suitable for this temporary pairing) and she'd probably get a kick out of some of the more flamboyant maneuvers (or our attempts thereof).

If we try to slip some innuendo her way too (a la >>18813), that'd be fine too.

>Or so you'd think - for in the instant Aya's mouth opens to urge once more, the quiet cook girl quickly cuts in, raising clenched fists up to her chest. A look of forced confidence paints itself over her cutely flustered face. "But I'll try!" She claims with a nod. "I can't dance, but I'll try!"

good girl misty
stake your claim

[x] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.

WHAT A FEAR IN MY HEART,
BUT YOU'RE SO SUPREME!

I GIVE MY LIFE
NOT FOR HONOR, BUT FOR YOU:
"SNAKE EATER"

[x] "Wait, can I, uh, go with you? You could use a hand if there's anything heavy to shift, no? ... or something. Please?"

Hm.

ETA ten minutes.

[x] Nod her farewell – the time has come to face the Big Boss.

Rue and grief all you want, but it has only been a gauge to test Aya's patience - and now it seems both the measured factor as well as your time have finally run out. Delightful as it may be to see Myschi disregard her poor performance, the shadow quickly closing in from behind is not to be taken lightly - or just the opposite, if we're talking unorthodox handling -- either way, you nod the smiling one a warm goodbye, which she takes as a hint to scoot away as quickly as possible -- and no wonder. Rushed sigh to bring all the dials to normal - and not a single delay before you turn to receive whatever comes from the riled monster.
"Finally," What comes though is not a Void Spawn with rows of pointed teeth to munch you up good - but only a vexed girl in a way too revealing getup. She stops a step ahead, glaring up, someway copycatting of a certain, other girl you know. "I thought you'd never grow bored of groping her butt."
Be she as she may, but the mood's too great to ruin it with a scowl - just the one on her face is already too much.
"Indeed, sitting idly isn't your style." You smile and look loftily down, to Aya's snort. "But someone taught me a long wait makes the goal a lot more tasty."
"Don't you get so high and mighty on me. Learn your place." Oh, but you already do know it, don't you? -- or at least know the place of her hands - too bad they don't go where supposed, and instead settle both for your shoulders. Shun, shun, a quick swing of the arm shoves them back. "Hey, what--"
Not quite letting her finish - she may have done terrible things - things no one would ever believe, worse than Full Metal Jacket's Boot Camp - but it doesn't mean the necessity of your dance being an honest - yet unskilled one, like Myschi's. No, if it's about Aya, she ought to be an ample partner to perform with. Treacherous, selfish, but at least an evenly leveled, able to keep up without tripping too much.
"Kaguya!" The DJ casts you a glance from behind the console, and you don't fail to grin at how goofy she looks with these giant headphones on. Why is it the world feels light as a feather after only just one, tiny, little dance? Miracles, that is why. They happen. "Do the thing!"
"Tango?" She asks without a delay, seeing you sway your hips in a recognizable enough way. "Something classic?"
"Please do." The silly head wobbles twice, as you return to the problem at hand - literally now - who only takes a single look at your arms - one going around the side, resting on the back, and the second one - clasped with her palm. Not a word of protest muttered, the whimsical director takes the clue up - and engages in the pose herself, her quivering lips holding back a smirk - and sort of failing at the task. "I see this sort of thing isn't a foreign concept to you."
"Obviously." Finally, her lips part, and reveal the cute, white teeth while twisting in a cocky grin. "I'm more versatile than you could ever fathom."
Closer, only a bit closer, you pull her forward, almost touching her body with yours - and she quickly finishes the deed. Who is the one taking initiative here - is not so sure anymore. Either way, the two of you share a deep, preparing breath, ready to spring into life as soon as the music starts.
"These clothes are inappropriate." You nod at her skimpy outfit. "Who are you trying to pick up?"
"Says who? You look like a bum yourself."
And before long, it does.

---
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xna-_dIdEf4
---

Piano, violins and a cello enter the fray, with perfect harmony, begin to mark the rhythm, the pace and tempo. The lights dim out, Aya squeezes your hand, tangling her fingers with yours, looking - now serious and composed - to where the two of you are facing. There's no holding back the smile - to see her highbrowed and composed, in your arms nonetheless, is more than amusing.
The first step, a bit out of sync, but fixed by the second. The parquet whines silently under your feet. Third, fourth, fifth. The warmth of her skin seeps through the shirt.
Stop, pull. Her eyes turn to you, full of confidence. Discreet nod. Shift forward, and she - backwards. The cleavage of her shirt widens for a second when her body bends back, supported by one of your arms. Through a tug, she returns to where she was.
Step, step, step. Stop, turn. The other pair isn't there - they stand by the wall, with curiosity admiring your performance. The stage is empty, now only your fragile pair prancing about to the tune of a barely known song.
Amazing, in just a few seconds, your selves have somehow come to realize how to act to fit each other's actions. Perfectly fine, profound, simultaneous steps tap on the floor. One, two, three and four. Release.
"You're really good at this." You say, sliding along her back, while she makes a spin, and lands back in the stance, your hands connected anew. "Who would have thought."
"Perhaps I'm really more than just what you see," And graze - close as she could possibly get, she almost rams into your chest, but swiftly stops at the last second - not fast enough though not to touch hers against it - her face lands inches away, the same, mischievous eyes staring up with a tease. "Don't you think?"
Catch. Back in the get-go pose, the two of you march anew through the hall, oblivious of all the eyes gazing in daze. Again, four-five steps, and a sudden stop. Again, your hand brushes by the fabric of her shirt, feet sliding away. For a second.
Her mouth lets out a silent giggle when the two of you meet again, a moment after. Turn, turn, turn. Time to walk away yet again.
"You've spoiled the surprise," She suddenly mutters when the two of you are making your way back to the other end of the dancing floor. "But could you give me the pleasure and proceed by the plan regardless?"
"The plan?" You question back. Only a few meters away. "What plan?"
Step, step, step. Another halt draws near.
"I want to talk with you. In private. No jumping at each other's throats this time."
You can't see her face in this light.


[ ] "Alright, then. At the count of three, and don't get angry if I touch any wrong spots."
[ ] "Already, Aya? You owe me this, remember? Dance, baby. Dance. Till the end of times."
[ ] "Sorry, I'm afraid I might be too busy tonight. There's a few things I need to handle. People too."
[ ] "Keep speaking in riddles, and I'll never get it right. What plan do you mean?"

[x] "I'll jump your bones if you're not careful".
[x] "So, why should I trust you? You of all people?"

[X] "Already, Aya? You owe me this, remember? Dance, baby. Dance. Till the end of times."
She will like this.

[x]"We'll talk in private. Just how long we'll talk before I leave in disgust relies on what you have to say for yourself. I advise you to couch your words carefully, director."

>>19095
Nice. Very cute scene. Pleasant to see Aya not nearly as spastic as usual. I don't really have a problem with proceeding with her little plan, but what I do worry about is Aya monopolizing the rest of the night and not having an opportunity to see Myschi one last time. For being forced to stumble through a dance like that, Myschi deserves some honest to god quality time with actornon.

[X] "Already, Aya? You owe me this, remember? Dance, baby. Dance. Till the end of times."
Delivered playfully, right? I'd hate for this to be interpreted that we have no intention of going along with her plan. More later.
>"Sorry, I'm afraid I might be too busy tonight. There's a few things I need to handle. People too."
Is good too, but I think it can wait until Aya has had her fun. For someone who's so swayed by their emotions, I'd rather cut things short with a witty quip when she's in a good mood than to stonewall her when she's feeling scorned or vindictive.

>>19098
You're probably right, but it has two functions: first, we're basically agreeing to go through with her plan, which is the least we can do for dicking around with her. Second, it puts the initiative to execute, or at least start, the plan on her own. That's probably ideal, since while we know she has some drama planned, it would suck if we misinterpreted what she wants to do and completely fouled it up.

[x] "Alright, then. At the count of three, and don't get angry if I touch any wrong spots."
I don't think we want to annoy Aya much more, really. This sounds interesting.

[X] "Already, Aya? You owe me this, remember? Dance, baby. Dance. Till the end of times."

[X] "Already, Aya? You owe me this, remember? Dance, baby. Dance. Till the end of times."

Every time I read this it gets worse.

[X] "Already, Aya? You owe me this, remember? Dance, baby. Dance. Till the end of times."

So, how many of these votes opt for dancing to tame Aya, and how many do because they want to please her?

>>19112
we are already way past that point. But people like it, so it's okay.

[x] "Sorry, I'm afraid I might be too busy tonight. There's a few things I need to handle. People too

I felt I needed to express my worries. Excuse the recent lack of updates, but it's closely tied to what's been bugging me lately. Thanks to Giddy's constant whining about none of the characters - save for one - being likeable, me railroading the story (latest dance with Aya whilst there was no dancing mentioned in the winning option), people voting for wrong stuff, et caetera, et caetera - I came to a conclusion I made a mistake somewhere - a grave mistake that shook the foundations of the story's premise. For the scenario to continue along a path capable of reaching the destined good ending, I would require the protagonist - and in proxy, the readers - to trust the other dramatis personae of BLAIR - a goal impossible to achieve under the current circumstances. It was my assumption that realistic characters with hidden traits and exposed flaws would prove to be far more interesting to write than the ones I'd been dealing with until the moment I started working on BLAIR - it was my assumption seeding little chunks of gold out of mucky water would be more amusing than finding a large nugget laying at your feet, in other words - and while they indeed were, I may have overestimated the ability of THP's readerbase to give them a concessionary treatment for a limited period of time before declaring them enemies. Aya is the main victim here - who despite having done nothing to gain the dislike, is continuously claimed to be not only irritating, but also hostile and completely unlikable. Why - the answer is beyond me, but it sure is scratching annoyingly at my nerves. The situation with Mokou is more than screwed up - perhaps my fault, due to going too deep into her psychology and expecting other people to analyze it before dealing with her whims - and nigh impossible to repair. You've chosen the worst possible answers in every single encounter, for whatever reason, and threw the girl into what we would probably call an acedia or a mental breakdown, if it wasn't for the aforementioned psychology of a hard-to-crack-soft-inside girl that makes her act in a different way, which I'm sure you can deduce how it would work in Mokou's execution. Or I'm wishing for too much again.

Either way, I just don't understand it anymore - there were no goals for me in this story to begin with - other than watching it unfold - and while observing the readerbase's reactions was amusing at first, I don't quite know what's going on right now. On one hand, you're sticking to Aya. On the other, she's being called a slut and insulted on every given occasion. Same goes for Akyu - the adorable fangirl has devolved into an insignificant background character - not to mention thanks to wearing a skirt, she's also been called a whore. I lost all hope for Mokou with the needlessly serious reaction to her obvious joke.
I can't understand your intentions - and due to that, I'm afraid I won't be able to lead the story in desired directions anymore. Myschi was supposed to be the 'target', yet when given an opportunity to accompany her to a 'calm, uninterrupted place', you let her go alone, and instead went for the 'slut'.
I'm confused. Lost and shaken.

I also know what sort of reaction this will bring, but appreciate my straightforward honesty - given the current state of things, this project's going straight for the station [Hell]. I see no way of fixing it - bad ends are out of question, as we haven't hit the part where the real plot kicks in yet, and I can' think of any way to end it badly without making it sound at least ridiculous.
The notes I've taken for the rest of the story don't go farther than the next in-game day, and the only latter part I've come up with is the very end - the epilogue, so nothing of much value would be lost.
So here's my proposition - freeze BLAIR. It's not going anywhere. Let 4S finish dying. Indulge in a new project, where the characters would all be easily likable, wouldn't have as many problems as BLAIR's do, and the protagonist would have a personality of his own, instead of being a mix of readers' opinions. There's more than enough ideas in my head to start a dozen of stories, I'm sure one of them will prove to fit your tastes as well.
What say you?

If the story isn't going the way you intended, then it's probably better to put it to rest.

I suggest a radical departure your next project: Survival horror. If Anon is going to be paranoid over every little thing, then put him in a setting where being paranoid serves a purpose.

>>19145
>If the story isn't going the way you intended

No, it's... I was fine with any of the girls. Ready to go with whatever people choose. I thought they chose Myschi, so I gave out a bunch of obvious pro-Myschi choices, and it turned out... Oh, what am I trying to say? It's not 'not going in the direction I intended', it's just that I have no idea where it's supposed to go.

I think I see what the problem was here. You got accustomed to your audience being a few hive-minded people over in /shrine/, and so you have no way of dealing with your readers having multiple, often conflicting opinions.

>>19150

I don't even know what these opinions ARE. Other than everyone but Myschi being sluts. There isn't much diversion in the votes, actually. The majority is always clear - it's just that they tend to contradict with what was said/done in the previous updates. While I am prepared for such occasions, the reasons for almost everyone changing their mind from one update to another (let's avoid Aya, let's go with Aya instead of accompanying Myschi. Let's break into Aya's room, let's get out of Aya's room. Let's go comfort Mokou, no let's not.) are what puzzles me. It's not like we haven't had conflicts in /shrine/ - we had a lot, only most of the times, one side would join the other after a short time/argument. Here, it's something completely different.

>let's avoid Aya, let's go with Aya instead of accompanying Myschi. Let's break into Aya's room, let's get out of Aya's room. Let's go comfort Mokou, no let's not.

lol Anon at his best. It's exactly how it has been up to this point.
I only have one goal: Mokou route. So i vote against every other character with the unyielding hope that more people will go for her too. Which is very slight like 10% but the hope dies last.

>(let's avoid Aya, let's go with Aya instead of accompanying Myschi. Let's break into Aya's room, let's get out of Aya's room. Let's go comfort Mokou, no let's not.)

The voter was ever only interacting with Aya because that was where the plot hook was laid. A few murders isn't something you just write-off because the only other witness is an annoying, severely borderline woman.

As for Mokou. Anon voted with trepidation to see Mokou, only after Kaguya attempted to drag him there. Despite the write-in telling her to piss off, you had her give him the sob story about how terribly painful it was for Mokou to worry about him, as if it was the protagonist's fault. Now the reason for the write-in was outrage that his "friends" all thought they can monopolize his time and draw concessions from him as a result of their 'worry' (which is exactly what Kaguya was doing). And after inexplicably listening to Kaguya's sob story and abusive ranting through the door, the protagonist has a break-through, an epiphany! Yes, he it seemed was wrong all along and he had to see Mokou and set things right!

Now at this point, the reader is given choices on how to do this--not whether to do this. So the reader plays along with you having the story set on autopilot, expecting that one touhou is as good as another and that it will all turn out alright in the end. But it doesn't, because the protagonist inexplicably turns that intention to comfort her right around and crushes her heart utterly. I read that part a few times over and I wondered, "What is going in the author's head?" Was this the author's way of punishing the voter for... what? Voting? It defies all rational explanation. I still don't have an answer.

As for Aya, the protagonist breaks into her room to get the bottle, risking Aya's ire, and Myschi's job on this. But it was justified; four people died after all, and Aya seems to be hiding things about it.

Of course, he's caught, and attempts to leave with the bottle. Then after what was the tropic equivalent of an anemic attack, Aya tries desperately to stop him from taking it, embracing him and cooing pleasantries in his ear. And the voters says "Hell no". Not liking this response, you have Aya ask for a kiss. Again, "hell no". This is apparently where you become fed up, because against all reason, this apparently very determined man is accosted and stripped of the item off-scene by some woman he doesn't even know the name of. What's more, the character is meant to feel humiliated and meek as a result, when any one of the voters would tell you that the appropriate response would be outrage and indignation.

See, YAF, the readers can only vote. That's it. Everything else is in your ballpark. If the character is acting like a spastic, it's not because of the voter, it's because you wrote him that way.

>>19153
>let's avoid Aya, let's go with Aya instead of accompanying Myschi. Let's break into Aya's room, let's get out of Aya's room. Let's go comfort Mokou, no let's not.

If you're going to look at it that narrowly (and I hope you actually aren't), then I'd tend to agree. But that's not really interpreting the intent behind the votes. The only way to pursue a character is to constantly vote for them with abject disregard to others? Really? Take the most recent thing with Aya and Myschi. I'm all for pursuing the delicious sparrow, but we messed up with the crow before and I'd like to make peace with that. Let her have her fun, listen to what she has to say, and move on. What's so mind blowing about that?

I'm not going to comment on what happened in Aya's room. There was a whole lotta something going down that day that I can't even begin to figure out. Reading back, there's no good reason to hate on Aya (aside from lying and having a painfully energetic personality that tends to grate after a while). My theory is that when Actornon started describing the bottle situation in terms of being 'defeated,' anon saw her as an adverse party that needed defeated/conquered. She was standing between us and the plot, and as it was pointed out in >>18983, when dealing with the girls is a painful experience, might as well focus on something definite. I don't think the fact that anon and you didn't (still don't?) see eye-to-eye on what kind of story this was supposed to be can be beaten to death any longer. Anyway, I think that by trying to make good with her now is an attempt to make up for that.

Mokou, man. She is a character I can't understand, even after you took the time to describe her. I guess it's because of the ex-relationship coming into the story that I don't know what to make of her. On the one hand, since she still has feelings for Actornon, she's a prospective love interest that can be pursued (albeit very awkwardly since Actornon has already failed in this regard). On the other, she could be a plot point/obstacle that needs to be dealt with (a ruined friendship that needs to be repaired/psycho ex) as we go about our merry way. I'd love to pursue her (being the tsundere guy that I am), but why try when it's already over? It makes choosing how to deal with her frustrating. Now after we've burnt the prospect to the ground does it come out that if we had tried it could have worked. Fuck me. Anyway, the whole "you're still a friend, but we are not getting back together so knock it off" approach by Actornon has been 'understandable' (I hesitate to use 'reasonable').

To me, it has shaken down like this
Myschi: hit that
Aya: keep her happy and at arms length
Mokou: bro that needs recalibration
Everyone else: ?

Then again, I don't want the story frozen and I'm probably reaching for logic that isn't there. It feels like the discussion on how this story was supposed to work, minus the spoilers, would have helped the story immensly if it had been in the first thread. If anything, now that that's all out, it feels like the story can actually start. I'd ask that you run one more thread write-in only and then make a decision. If you keep giving anon an easy way to screw over everyone but the Touhou of his choice... this happens.

Alright, here's something.

==

Day three started off with the rain relentlessly continuing its assault on the world - falling down in curtains of cold, sickeningly grey, grim water, as though the world itself had cast a shroud over the little, insignificant stage, where all the members of the Movie Circle had gathered, to catch a breath, as well as a snack after a busy night. All but one - for Aya's friend had decided a little rain couldn't do any harm to her beautiful hair, and left early in the morning, leaving everyone to sluggishly chomp on their meals Myschi prepared herself - her boss had left early as well, leaving her in the charge of the practically abandoned hotel. Only the Circle's members remained, so it wasn't that big of a deal anyway. In awkward silence, veiled with fatigue of a previous night's nightmares, Actornon quietly devours his own breakfast, under the watchful stare of the beaming cook girl. The previous night... Yes, the previous night, he had fulfilled the promise.

In tired daze, everyone carries on with their usual stuff afterwards.

After a few hours, it becomes apparent that Aya's friend was somewhat late to the breakfast - in fact, no one saw her since she had left. The weather outside was getting worse with every passing minute - it was possible that she had lost her way, or slipped and sprained an ankle - who knows. Actornon decides to take one of the girls along, and go look for her.

And he does. On a hill, not far from the hotel, he finds a lone tree, on one of its branches, from a thick rope, a body of a girl dangling helplessly, whipped by the gusts of freezing wind.

This is where the party starts.

Back at the hotel, he's burdened with passing the news to everyone else. They then try to give the police station a call, but there's no signal on the line - the cellphones are out of range too, despite being online the day before. Mokou goes on a tirade about how they shouldn't have left her hanging there, but Aya quickly remembers a similar situation that happened back when she was in high school - no one can touch the body before the police arrives. Even if it's outside, drenched, tortured post-mortem by the rain. Mokou snaps, rushes off somewhere.


The progress then looks as follows: the day continues under the excuse of Aya wanting to finish the movie at any cost - towards the evening, she and Kaguya change the script yet again - the final scene will be shot inside the hotel, in the basement. When it comes to that, Mokou - disturbed, but relatively collected - and Actornon play the scene perfectly - until the moment where Knot fires a warning shot past Le Blaze's head - everyone is stupefied when the gun loaded with blanks shoots a real bullet.
Investigation ensues - and the conclusion is as follows: all the props were kept in Keine's room, but Keine knows nothing of firearms. The room was locked, and the only person to own a key - not counting Myschi - is Akyu.
Akyu, who is now gone without a trace.

Searching the hotel yields no results - and while Actornon feels inclined to go outside once more, the weather's gotten so bad everyone else tries to convince him it's a bad idea to go out. Reluctantly, but he listens.

From there, the action would branch off. Any character left alone (save for Aya) would disappear, just like Akyu and Aya's friend. Until the night, when the remaining members gather in one room, and have a crucial talk. Aya explains she found the key in the old church, and knows that someone told her it was there, but she can't recall who it was - or where she met him/her. Actornon then remembers how he has a similar lapse in the memory - when someone told him the story of the shrine.

At night, one more person disappears.


The morning carries a change in the weather, and the survivors decide to scout around the town.

It's completely dead - everyone seems to be gone. The houses are empty, as though left in a rush - the doors are all open, signs of hastily gathered personal belongings here and there. The only house to remain shut is the one covered in most anti-Hakurei graffiti - the place where Reimu lives. But when the party arrives at her door, she only keeps on throwing things at the walls, and yells at them to leave her alone, that it wasn't her fault, that she's sick of life and whatnot - in other words, she's completely broken. There are two keys - one is breaking in by force. The second, telling her about the letter in the bottle. Reluctantly, but she lets the remaining people inside, and quickly breaks the bottle - which neither Actornon nor Aya could do last night (magic protecting the contents) - and reads the message. It's from her father, where he explains in curvy, messy letters the true story behind the other exorcist, and apologizes for ruining her life. The priests were drowned by the villagers, along with all the ghosts the other exorcist caught - as well as her own. Before that, though, the Hakurei family spread a rumour about it being their own daughter who put an end to Ichirin's shady deeds - with pure intentions, but it ended up becoming Reimu's demise.
The girl agrees to move into the hotel for the time being.


After a breather, evening comes, and with it, Aya calls Actornon to her room - where, to keep it shallow and brief, Ichirin's ghost takes over her body for a few seconds, and orders him to bring her the Hakurei - to the shrine's cellar. Apparently she wants a revenge on the daughter of the people who trapped her soul in a dirty, glass jar.

Throughout the day, everyone else disappears, save for Actornon himself, the 'target' girl - in this case, Myschi - and Reimu. The three of them, seeing no other option, head to the shrine - Reimu is still confident of her powers, thanks to the letter Actornon brought her.

There, she blasts the ruins to pieces. Ichirin's jail is broken, and her spirit comes out to confront the daughter of her jailors. A fight ensues, and reaches its apogeum when Ichirin calls forth the souls of every monster she killed - Reimu defends the two, but orders them to run while they still can - after all, Ichirin wants her, not them. Actornon and Myschi make their escape back to the hotel - while the shrine's hill again and again flashes with multicoloured light. But they're not there alone - the spirits have followed them, and are hot on their trail.
In a quick action sequence, they hijack an abandoned car, and escape the city...

... on their way through a forest road, they pass by a column of police cars, rushing to where they were coming from. Hoping for the best for Reimu, Actornon turns around to look in the direction of the town... When Aya's friend's head suddenly appears in his view.
"You left me alone..."





The story ends with the same twist it begun with - the narrative switches to a dark hall. Aya stands up and crosses hands on her chest. 'This is a masterpiece' - she claims, while lights turn on - and Actornon looks around to see all the Circle's members - and the extras - to be gathered in a small projection room. Myschi gently tugs at his cheek, saying he did great as the protagonist.
In a hum of lively chat, all of them leave the room, only one person remaining.

A shady, slouching figure in the far corner of the room. Sitting still on the farthest chair. She cocks her head to the side, letting a corner of a habit enter the ring of light...

What you might wonder:
1) How come Ichirin begun to meddle with her prison using the Circle's members, instead of just possessing one of the villagers?
Answer: Reimu kept protecting the region even after she had been abandoned by the people she was supposed to serve. Outsiders, though, were not something she had taken into consideration, and so the power didn't work on anyone from the Circle.
2) What if we didn't find the bottle?
Answer: Plot device, Mr. Frodo. Plot device.
3) What next?
Answer: I'm working on an outline of something new. The only thing I can reveal is it happening in Gensokyo, the main character having a little bit of temporal amnesia, and the setting being forwarded a couple of years into the future. By which I mean teenage girls have become adults, and the loli ones - teenagers. Yes, I know, youkai don't age. But have we ever paid any heed to Touhou's lore?
I'm going to try and make it easier to read - make the characters' personalities more straightforward and obvious, try not to resort to too many figuratives, use a simpler language, less metaphors, more infantility, and possibly shorter, more rapid updates. That sort of thing seems to work the best for THP, as opposed to elaborate narrative.

>>19159

That's an interesting description of a story. I would've liked to have read it.

>I'm going to try and make it easier to read - make the characters' personalities more straightforward and obvious, try not to resort to too many figuratives, use a simpler language, less metaphors, more infantility, and possibly shorter, more rapid updates.

Awesome. Time to put on those training wheels always stand a few meters forward while waving so that we can make it all the way step by step to the goal without hurting ourselves.

I'd really rather this story didn't die.

>>19163
Doesn't change the fact that it's true that a simpler, more straight-forward style works better on THP. There are exceptions of course (e.g. lighthouse), but there the complexity is an intimate part of the story. Otherwise, there's a line between elaborate and confusing, and that issue should probably never come up on a CYOA like what's standard here. For a stand-alone piece of fiction, go nuts. For literature dependent on user input, leaving a majority (or even a portion) of the voting population scratching their collective head is inviting trouble. If you're not comprehending what's going on, how can you make an informed decision? Without a grasp of the essense of the situation, it leads to more ADD and inconsistency than normal. Present sense observations, simple narratitve, neutral adjectives, and dialogue is all we really need to make reasonable decisions. Server anon is great example of the fundamentals and how deviations can hint the readers that something is amiss or worth further attention.
Besides, in the absence of complexity, anon reads it in himself. How often has a protagonist obsessed over some (ultimately) inane detail, or crafted an absurdly convoluted response to a simple situation? May as well let anon add in what isn't there than to try and remove what is in the providence of the writer. I'd also wager it has got to be a pain to try and tell a compelling story without being able to rely upon more nuanced literary techniques or lapsing into habits. Simple != easy?

Now, if you had to have an approved tripcode to vote because you've proven that you're interested in the story and you're capable of rationally interpreting a situation beyond "this bitch sucks, moar waifu" a more complex style would be welcome. That, actually, would be something pretty interesting to see: a group of voting anon(+trip) that could base their decisions on the suggestions/analyses from normal anon. Site population, proclivity for shit storms, and sheer logistics would make it practically impossible, but the idea is amusing.

>>19172
>Besides, in the absence of complexity, anon reads it in himself.
I am in larger part an opponent of such thinking, you see. It appears futile --if not outright silly-- to me, to search for a mirage, to focus on a fleeting, risky possibility that isn't there, while the time is running out in vain - the time we could otherwise spend on pondering the really important decisions. Most of the times an issue is furiously discussed over, later it turns out to be the writer's momentary slip in narrative, or something that held no significance to the true story, and we end up with the necessity of throwing the real problem straight into the readers' faces - rather than having them notice numerous instances of a certain pattern of actions repeating, which they forfeit in favour of a tiny, pesky detail they shouldn't have paid too much attention to in the first place.
Of course, I will not argue the entertainment factor of having a large discussion, because not only is it amusing - it also helps us --the writers-- see what the audience wants to concentrate on, and thus allows us to grant them precisely what they want. The question is - what's the value of that if the issue in question is not an important one, but something that was only a background happening, something that served as a filler of sorts, and most certainly wasn't anything worth engaging in polemics over?
I could go Freud for a few minutes and run an analysis on the thought course that leads to such outrageous skipping of important events and focusing on unimportant ones... But the day is young, the sun is enticing, and my bike could sure use a ride.

>I'd also wager it has got to be a pain to try and tell a compelling story without being able to rely upon more nuanced literary techniques or lapsing into habits.
It may be, although for different reasons than your words would suggest. There are two possible options - either it is as you said, and with flat, shallow narrative the readers themselves write the story in their heads, discuss it with others, and thus do a great deal of work on their own in the writer's stead -- OR, the story itself is elaborate enough on its own to contain a feeling of depth and immersion. The former seems to work well for THP, but there's always the possibility of the aforementioned issue taking place, and thus stripping the team of Anons and the Writer doing the story of 70% of the horsepower otherwise available. It could be disastrous in effects, or lead the writer to - pardon my French - bullshitting the readers, rather than keeping the flow of the plot consistent. The latter ensures the story to be always a legitimate, fully-fledged story per se, at the price of restricting the amount of readers' input to a very low number.
In simple words, it's either you doing the job for me on your own - like in the early, short CYOAs (MiG, WUiG, GA:SD, SDMLA - with an emphasis of the last one), as well as some of the newer pieces (IPF, LAE, Landlord) -- or me doing most of the work, you watching silently from the side (all the stories that get 'dry' votes, no comments whatsoever, et caetera). The golden center probably exists somewhere far away, but I am not quite sure if it's worth the risk setting off to find it without a party of experienced and wary Indianas and Laras to aid me.

>>19170
I'm sorry, I really am - but this is how it ends. There's no going back now.

>I'm sorry, I really am - but this is how it ends. There's no going back now.

Again? Come on... i REALLY did enjoy your new story and i thought it was good so far. Despite everything said i was still reading it.
I am not sure but it seems that recently everything you start to write seems to stop halfway or even before that.
So i guess onward to the next story?

>>19181

I overestimated my - and possibly yours too - abilities in this one. I went into details I should have realized would have never been seen. I did the right thing in a wrong place - just like >>19172 said. Complexity, subtlety, sticking to the required rules of fiction (because there are - I am specifically studying this direction of Arts) and coming up with elaborate psychological neural networks for each character in a place that values simplicity and sheer entertainment factor was a stupid thing to do. But you see, I lack the motivation to start a real Creation - I've attempted to re-write CoMN into a novel format, from Renji's perspective several times, but when no one is reading it... It just appears somewhat pointless.
I probably ought to hold the teachings I've received back until I can apply them to a real, fully fledged novel - as opposed to Touhou fanfiction - which I hope I'll start writing at some point in my life. Sigh.
Biking did me good, my mind works best when powered by fresh oxygen - sitting on a riverside, I came up with what I think could suffice as a rough outline for the new story. There's still a few blank/crossed out points in my notebook - and yes, I do carry a notebook where I write the ideas down around with me - but a day or two more should allow me to decide on definite details.
Stay - oh, how bad it feels to say this - sharp.

Y'know, I'm wondering how many more failed stories it's going to take until YAF learns he needs to listen to anon better.

You know. If everything complex that you thought up fails and you are stuck to what best to do why not just go back to basics.
The thing that you had the most success with. Take the critic, think about it, take a week off to reflect on everything.
Then come back and write like god himself.

Why the fuck do I even bother with you anymore? You never finish anything you start. You say it's depressing for you to continue something going down a 'bad road', well it's depressing for us to stay with you to this point and be told that we wasted our time. Shit, you've been railroading us for god knows how long, why should it be any different now? Either ignore anonymous and write what you want, or listen to them and deal with it. There's no middle way here, YAF. You expect everything to go as you want it to; well life doesn't work that way.

You're a shit writer on a site full of other shit writers asking the basement-dwellers of the Internet with dead-end jobs to help you with your goal of becoming some great novelist. Can you even fathom the concept of what you're trying to achieve here? Are you really that retarded? I mean no offense to the other shit writers and basement-dwellers, but at least you know what you are and aren't lying to yourself by living in a fantasy world whe- HAHAHAHA, oh dear lord, nevermind.

>>19185
I'm going to make this easy for you. This Shrine - and it's never happening again.

>>19186
>You never finish anything you start.
Errata: I've finished more stories than any of the writers on this site. If you're looking for the guy who never finishes what he starts, his name is HY.

YAF is right. He has written the most and finished the most stories on here. All the TS runs, CoMN, TSR and all the other side and unfinished stories really are a lot of text.
HY wrote 4 stories, one he finished, 2 dropped and one still going probably. He draws the most attention which YAF really loathes because he gets all edgy and jealous inside when he sees all the votes and discussion.
But well, he never strived for popularity since day one.

>>19192
Oh? I wasn't counting the ones that were dropped after bad ends. Even so, that really says a lot about everybody else.

>>19192
Actually, there were more (two runs of ADP, PoG, one or two things in /sdm/), but no, what I loathe the most in HY is his lack of constraints from dropping a story on a whim (PoG), or simply because it wasn't going as he had wanted it to (ADP). It infuriates me, since he doesn't even bother to apologize, and yet has a throng of people following him everywhere - people he has deep up his anus. Not to mention him being acclaimed as the best writer on THP, while his narrative leaves MUCH to wish for, being flat and colourless as it is, feeling lifeless as degased coke. He's a native speaker, he's older than me - yet his style presents itself worse than the style of a self-taught, lazy Pole. How ridiculous is that?

Even when things are going down pathes I'd rather not take, I still do my best to finish the stories that stepped onto them. It was depressing, but I led Fukuzai all the way to her bitter end that you had prepared for her. It really was ruining - I didn't want to see her get hurt, I really didn't. Yet I couldn't do anything to avert the fate that met her. I didn't want Kane to become what he did - I thought people would know better than to let Reimu leave on her own and stumble upon an enraged bouger. Again, my overestimations and faith in Anon's reasoning led to writing a situation I had never intended to write. Why didn't I just deus-ex-machina the circumstances into something more favourable, then? Because it's despicable - to resort to such dirty tricks, not letting the story's world rule itself with its own principles. I let the worlds I create live on their own - not everything revolves around the protagonist, and there's a lot of things going on outside his ring of vision. Same goes for the characters - I let them be something more than just what the narrator/protagonist sees, and only hint at what lies beneath the visible and exhibited features. Keep the setting consistent, rather than resorting to wizard-did-it tactics even a fanfiction.net author could utilize.
So what if it is Touhou fanfiction? Why would that stop me from making it something more than just trifling around with characters we all masturbate to? Why wouldn't I make it something more than just 'you wake up in Gensokyo, make friends, have sex with half of them, flirt all the others, kill a couple of irrelevant NPCs, have a few drinks and die'? I have the skills, I have the potential, I have the ideas - why should I keep them restricted to the circle of trivial trifles and innocent playing, while what I could be doing are ambitious stories with consistent words, realistic characters and compelling plot?

>I have the skills, I have the potential, I have the ideas - why should I keep them restricted to the circle of trivial trifles and innocent playing, while what I could be doing are ambitious stories with consistent words, realistic characters and compelling plot?
Because anon doesn't. fucking. care.

As much as I'd like them to act like a normal human beings in mature scenes, as much as I'd love it if they took the time out to notice every little detail of each update, as exhilarated I'd be if they actually analyzed the situation on par with the story itself and thought before they lept - anonymous just won't do it. You know why that is? It's because they want to wake up, have sex, kill people, drink like idiots, and die happily. It's fiction because these characters and events don't exist in the real world. Fiction is created to take us to a place beyond our understanding and immerse ourselves in it, forgetting all about the harsh reality of our daily lives. It's entertainment. If anon wanted drama, they'd go to the theater and overpay for some done-before romance, boy-meets-girl crap. Unless the drama you yourself create damn near every day gets a billion-dollar deal to be made into a movie, then no one here wants to hear it, nor does anybody care for a CYOA that's based around your past 'experiences'. Anon has a one-track, simplistic mind and a shared love for this universe you write about; but as clear as day, which you see wherever you look, everyone wants the frosting, but never the cake.

Let's see this story how it should be, shall we? Talentless college actor whose only true fan is some impressionable snot-nosed brat that keeps begging for a bed-time story; is used and abused by those around him; only has one friend to speak of(who doesn't seem like much of a friend); nobody cares half a shit about him except the key characters; a loud and annoying slut that bosses him around and probably only likes him as the 'good-natured' rebound guy after her other boyfriends dump her; a very angry(and most likely psychotic) girl who smokes herself to death(she can't really be all that good-looking after so many years of it) who clings to a lost flame, pushes away anybody else who tries to get close to him, and is desperately seeking his attention in any childish way she can manage. Had this story gone on any longer, she would have snapped and killed somebody; a small-time cook(that you know is riddled with pimples and greasy hair) which the protagonist adores, even though she has so many extreme mood-swings like a girl going through puberty; a teacher dating someone half her age and gives us dirty looks for the things we do; and finally, a work-a-holic who plays dress-up with our ex, and gets pissed whenever the Ken-doll doesn't play by the plot-line she wrote. All of these characters are possessive, mental, and ignorant of the world around them.

Harems and these 'moe' things do not exist. So now that I've removed the make-up, who wants to be this guy? Yeah, thought so. But gee, what does all that sound like? Oh, hey, YAF - your life is the pinnacle of failure. So which bitch did the little Pole take home after this proverbial game-show of life, huh?

Why don't you just go to fanfiction.net? If the stories are all so crappy yet everyone there likes them, you'd be like a fucking god. Not only that, you'd know in your mind how it is and wouldn't have to be so paranoid or depressed over your work, and we wouldn't have to deal with it. It's a win-win deal. You're certainly not going to get any more out of writing for this place. And unless you take over Goosebumps, books don't give you the freedom of allowing others to make the story for you; there are no good ends and bad ends. You have to learn to be an actual writer, sometime - that is if you even care anymore. If you wish to stay, you have to adapt to your audience; another thing a good writer does. Don't try to expect anything from people who have no expectations. Common sense only applies here when all the information is laid out nice and neat in easy-to-read goody baskets. As I mentioned before, anon is just another superhero wanna-be that tip-toes around to make sure that the butterflies and bunny-rabbits aren't disturbed from their frolicking. Write for children, not adults, and you'll be home-free.

>>19199
That's one hell of an ego you've got there.

>>19199
HY is one of the best writers on here (besides Owen and Lion). /sdm/ LA and his character has brought him much fame and love on here. You cannot change this anymore and the more you try the more people will dislike you for this.
>Why wouldn't I make it something more than just 'you wake up in Gensokyo, make friends, have sex with half of them, flirt all the others, kill a couple of irrelevant NPCs, have a few drinks and die'?
Think back a year. Why do you think This Shrine, the first, 2nd and 3rd or so, worked so great? Yep. Because they were like that.
There were some writers who did exactly what you want to create and succeeded. Talk with Owen.
>>19200
Come on man, you are being an asshole here. You could have said that nicer.
>Write for children, not adults, and you'll be home-free.
lol

>>19213
I am not trying to change anything. I am simply stating he's not even trying to make his writing good. Right now it's flat and lifeless - is what it is.
As for what Owen did - he had a skilled audience, that's all I have to say. He had what I lack, but it lies not within my abilities to acquire the thing - I'm not a psyker, I can't sweep through people's minds, and see which are capable of using logic, and which are not, then hypnotize them into reading my stories.

>As for what Owen did - he had a skilled audience, that's all I have to say. He had what I lack

Yes, he really had those people. The write ins were one of the best. Plus the whole story was so great because Anon would never consider the fact that Remilia was just plain evil and that Nathaniel was always marked as a bad guy. We never trusted or put our faith in him so in the end he died. Those 2 things contributed to his success.
But you have 2 or 3 like those people too.

>>19200
cool story bro

>>19215
You're right; you can't really make the folks that are going to put the serious effort into making good decisions read, discuss, and vote. The story and the writer have to invite and encourage that kind of behavior. The technical quality of the writing is beyond reproach, but that technicality and eye for detail really comes at the expense of readability. In BLAIR there are very few segments of straight-forward dialogue. Almost every spoken sentence is accompanied with a description of exactly how it was delivered. It really breaks up the flow. Even though I know precisely how the conversation went down, it loses coherency when every detail is pointed out. The worst offense was Mokou's joke in >>18826 and >>18829. Did there need to be a mountain of text between
>"Last time I listened to such a request, you know what happened."
and
>"You got the best blow job of your miserable, uneventful life."

Really, what kind of sentence is
>But that aside, more importantly, perhaps you should pay attention to the fact all of the features she's been showing off have –due to that smile– suddenly become... painfully blatant and clear?
My impression is that you want to convey that Actornon is clearly distressed by the situation and his mind is running at a mile-a-minute trying to figure it out. But to indulge this for two paragraphs with all of that awkwardly formatted text? What kind of cadence do I afford a '-'? Trying to piece together the conversation between Mokou and Actornon has been left by the wayside in favor of interpretting what the protagonist is thinking. And then she brings up a BJ? I'm not surprised the 'joke' sailed over the head of anon until you pointed it out: almost nothing connects the former statement to the latter at this point. If everything between "Last time I listened..." and "You got the best..." had been distilled to one or two sentences describing Actornon's frantic observations and thought processes, the timing of the conversation would have been maintained and the absurdity of her suggection would be conveyed. On the one hand, yes, it is quite simple to do it that way. On the other, it is concise and makes the point without belaboring the obvious.

It's not your style that needs simplification. You either need an editor to trim the literary fat that leaks into your narrative, or you need a more critical eye as to what merits elaboration and what doesn't. We don't care about what Youki is doing with his pipe at this point. We do care when his expression becomes thoughtful. Was it really necessary to point out we took a deep breath during the retelling of Actornon's background? Furthermore, for the most part your habit of:
>"Dialogue" character does something "More dialogue"
could be modified to a more readable
>"Dialogue. More dialogue" character does something, or character does something "Dialogue. More dialogue."
It's awkward to be breaking things up: describe the disposition of the character and then provide their dialogue, or have them speak and use the description to put it into context. Why are conversations (in general) so disjointed and replete with random observations/details? Technically speaking, all of these things are happening simultaneously in the story, but if the reader has to step back after reading something to reconcile actions/descriptions with dialogue (rather than getting it the first time), is the text doing its job? I mean, BLAIR as it was written would make for a fantastic script for a stage production or movie. But as a stand alone piece of fiction?

That ease of comprehension is what sets BLAIR apart from something like Owen's first endeavor. In ASSM, anon of all stripe and skill could grasp what was going on, evaluate past evidence, and make something akin to an informed decision. All because of the reasonably straight forward presentation and description. Of the mass that it attracted, a few proved to be of advanced ability and could begin to dissect phrases and statements to craft an elevated understanding of the story. The painful irony is that the readership was too clever for the writer, searching for (and even justifying) depth that wasn't in the story. If you could merely polish your stories to emphasize the important points without cluttering it with too much unwieldy dialogue and overly florid analogies/metaphors, I doubt the same diligent anons would walk away dissatisfied with the experience.

Also: white space. There's a difference between walls and black holes of text. Add an extra line of spacing between new lines. World of good right there.

>>19234
tl;dr Three paragraphs of word and a fragment of meaning is bad.

>>19213
I... was being nice? I'm not sure how else to get it through to him. I mean, if I really wanted to, I could have made YAF cry and /wrist by now. It's clear he doesn't want to be held with kid-gloves, yet you do so anyway. True; I'm not crossing that line myself, but I'd rather let it sink in than provoke his fuck you I won't do what you tell me attitude and watch him come back later after he's boned his fleshlight to pieces and blog up the place some more.

>>19234
>Did there need to be a mountain of text
Retardation - a rhetorical figure meant to slow the pace of the narrative as well as described action down, in this particular part supposed to introduce an awkward, but otherwise soothingly calm, lazy atmosphere that accompanies the conversation between the two. Not make it shocking. Not make it a metaphoric monster jumping out of a cupboard to startle you in a poor, B-class horror movie. The scene was built to flow sluggishly, in Actornon's confusion, faced with Mokou's suggestive tranquillity.

>In BLAIR there are very few segments of straight-forward dialogue.
In BLAIR, more meaning was conveyed in descriptions than it was in dialogues. BLAIR's characters often didn't say what they meant - for various reasons, just like real people. But through detailed descriptions and remarks, you were given a hint as for how to understand their misleading words. Yes, it is harder to read and write, but I'd rather not resort to something as cheap as pointing out the gist of the events with a dozen of laser pointers, to make sure you don't miss it. No, it takes some effort to understand BLAIR, and that is how it was meant to be.

>BLAIR as it was written would make for a script for a stage production or movie
Well, what do you know - see the final twist. Congrats on noticing this.

>>19238
Ironically, what stung me the most in your comment, is that they don't sell fleshlights where I live. Nor anywhere around. Neither in the country as a whole, as far as I know. Make of this what you will.

>Ironically, what stung me the most in your comment, is that they don't sell fleshlights where I live. Nor anywhere around. Neither in the country as a whole, as far as I know. Make of this what you will.
The Polish have the lesser-known asslight. Well, I haven't found the Tagu, Toga, Tengu - whatever it is - in the US, even though I see advertisements for it everywhere(even on non-Japanese sites). It is pretty irritating; like cucumber Pepsi and churro cola. With sex toys and junk food, you'd assume they'd start exporting these things as common goods.

>>19234 Your proportions are bad and you need to improve them. Study basic anatomy.
>>19240 It's stylized!