>>34044 Writefags do their best now and are preparing. Please wait warmly until it is ready.
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[x] ... you should ask Reimu what she wants to do. She seems bored.
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As you walk back into the living room, you try to look over Reimu's shoulder for a better glimpse of the book she seems so absorbed in.
Interestingly, the book appears to be some kind of dress catalogue. The current page seems to be extolling the... virtues of a healthy womanly figure, in what appears to be a traditional European ball gown, sewn with all the trimmings, in deep red silk. It occurs to you that, given some time, Reimu would probably look quite nice in such a dress.
You take the moment to quietly nudge Reimu on the shoulder, startling her as she tries to shut the book.
"Hey Reimu, I'm done helping out Alice with the clearing up. Have you got any other plans here?"
"Not really, no," she begins, sliding the book back into Alice's shelves, "Do you have anything else you want to do with Alice, maybe?"
"I don't think so. That was why I was asking you."
"W-well, I don't have any good ideas right now,"
"Neither do I."
As you both stand there, trying to rack your heads for an inkling of an idea, Alice pops her head into the room,
"I think it's a good time to go see if Marisa has woken up yet," she suggests, "She popped by very late last night, and asked if I could come over to help her sort out her house again."
Reimu rubs her forehead in exasperation, "Is she still not taking care of herself then, Alice?"
"I'm afraid so Reimu. She's been very excited about something lately, though she won't tell me what."
“I guess I should go and beat some sense into that thick head of hers,”
“That would be very much appreciated,” Alice smiles.
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As you continue back into the forest, having thanked Alice for lunch, you quietly turn to Reimu,
"Does Marisa have problems taking care of herself?"
"Tch. Marisa is a bit careless when it comes to living. Most of the time, she's okay at keeping her house in order, but when she’s on the verge of figuring out something new, she just loses whatever self-control she has and lets the mess get the better of her. In a sense, I think that's why she tends to go visit people often."
Marisa's supposed carelessness strikes a chord somewhere in the back of your mind. You can vaguely remember how messy your own master's apartment was, with books and assorted magical tools scattered throughout the study and halls.
There must be some method in the madness for most magicians to survive, given their solitary nature.
You begin turning your attention to the surroundings, more vigilant to the threat of the assailant (or assailants,) coming for another go at you. The forest has returned to its vibrant, colourful state, the natural world in its finest capacity.
Beautiful flowers, of various shapes and sizes dot the path back to the fork, a touching detail you overlooked in favour of clumsy haste from earlier this morning. In the distance you can hear the playful giggles of minute fairies and the sounds of various animals as they graze and forage. All around you, you can sense the tingling of magical energy in the air. You can recall from a distant memory that magic breeds magic, and such a wonderfully energetic location is sure to generate some interesting magical properties in the local wildlife.
This would make an ideal place for a permanent home; you could probably set up a thriving workshop of your own here. Indeed, Marisa must be constantly making such bold and incredible progress in her studies in the forest. The sheer diversity of magical flora and fauna at the location would easily make any magician’s career, should they take the time to experiment and catalogue their potential uses.
It is no wonder Marisa is having sleepless nights. The thought of such industrious innovation excites you greatly as you and Reimu take the turn into Marisa’s side of the forest.
However, as you approach your destination, you are beginning to have some minor doubts as to the... overall safety of the area. The number of trees with disturbingly large burn marks and holes, the increasingly frequent charred stumps and half-vaporised rocks and the veritable carpet of fungi lining the path are starting to disturb you. Hopefully nothing bad has happened to Marisa.
Reimu however, takes it in stride, marching up the path authoratively into the clearing beyond. Seeing as she seems fairly confident, you follow straight after her, your hand on your watch, just for good measure.
Like Alice’s house, Marisa’s cottage is in the European style, being made out of solid brick and mortar and located just in the middle of the clearing. However, the other magician’s house was much less overgrown than this: you can see various thick vines creeping across the entire house and there are the occasional cracks in the walls that you think you can just about make out.
Reimu has already begun rapping at the door with undue force. As you come closer, you realise that the entire area around the house is simply thick with rich magical energy. Sensing no reaction from within, Reimu turns the doorknob and simply walks into the house.
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As you wait for Reimu to find Marisa, wherever she may be sleeping, you begin examining her... well, you can’t quite call it a living room. It’s more of a dumping ground:
Piles and piles of books, in various shapes and sizes, gilded covers and ornate spines aplenty are strewn across any available surface. The shelves are no better, being home to a variety of odd bottles and vials of curious liquids and tints, odd leaves, the occasional untidy pile of notes and papers. Continuing to survey the damage, you take a glance at the low coffee table, just beside a ragged sofa, where you can see notched plates and cutlery underneath a frilly set of... oh.
Those appear to be her brassieres.
Hurm. Yes.
Her brassieres.
Turning your attention to anything other than the used undergarments, you can see more of her discarded clothing and other assorted knick knacks lying around the floor, posing an incredible tripping hazard to the unattentive, adding to the casual dangers of the various magical tomes scattered around the room, some of which are clearly glowing with impatient magical rage, demanding to relinquish their forbidden knowledge at the earliest convenience. Thankfully, at least Marisa's broomstick is propped up neatly against another bookshelf, along with her pointy witch’s hat perched on the handle. Broomsticks are notoriously twitchy when unattended and you feel that any sudden movement in this room could result in a catastrophic chain reaction of events.
This area is quite simply the aftermath of several days of a magician’s inattentiveness. It really does feel nostalgic though. You can hear some thumping, accompanied by a girlish scream, then some muffled reprimands. Reimu must have found Marisa.
You suppose you could do something while you wait for Marisa to get herself sorted.
[] Examine a book in one of the piles.
[] Walk around and explore Marisa’s place.
[] Try and clean up the room a tiny bit.
[] Follow the whimpers of apology to the source.
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I apologise for the wait but again, RL affairs take immediate priority. Do you want more frequent status updates as compensation, perhaps?