[⇝] ʇɩnɔɹɩɔ ʇɹoɥS

I stumble upright, giggling silently. Well, I suppose it isn't silently, but since I can't hear anything, it's silent.

Right.

After wiping my knife on my skirt, I sheath it, and look around, as if it's going to do any good. On the off chance that it does, I can come off as though I looked like I knew what I was doing all alo—

Wait.

What was that?

I freeze, despite this being the stupidest thing I could possibly do at the moment.

I mean, I'm deaf and she's invisible, or hiding herself in the air or something and my nose isn't so good that I could smell her out, like Orange could. And on top of that, I'm standing stock-still.

All I need is a "hit me" sign on my back. Or my everywhere. Possibly even my anywhere.

Wherever those are.

There it is again: movement.

A small, quick, shifting movement on the ground across the way from me, as dirt and rock chips and dust drift slightly.

She's walking? Maybe hovering, slightly.

No, don't look at it.

My grin returns in full force, and I look about, aimless and confused, playing the part of the completely fucked youkai. I've had plenty of experience with this role, so it isn't difficult to pull off.

I wander about, shuffling and darting behind poles, looking around nervously.

Either this bitch is taking her time lining up a perfect shot to end it in one go, or she's playing with me.

Both are pretty bad.

Every time I come to a stop and look around, I keep an eye out for another errant movement. It's definitely not the wind. It's what things underfoot would look like as you stepped on them, if you could see under your foot but for the foot that's under your eyes and over the ground, in the way.

I'm sure of it.

The knife is out of the question for the moment; it would announce that I have a plan. I'll have to be careful about this.

Working my way around over the next minute or two, I draw closer and closer, keeping an eye on her position as she, too, draws nearer.

We're three quarters of the way back to the shrine when I spring it on her.

I put a pillar between me and her, then spend a rather large amount as I run charge the pillar and ram it with my shoulder. The thing manages to give, unexpectedly, but I don't waste time on clapping my hands in joy. At least, not yet. Hopping back, I run into it again, then brace myself, and give it the fiercest kick I can with all my strength and whatever is in me has to give.

It cracks, loudly.

Wait, loudly?

I notice several things at once.

One: The pillar is slowly but surely beginning to fall.

Two: War Mother, in shock If the powerful rush from her is any indication has dropped her cover of air over herself and my ears and is staring wide-eyed at something off to the side, where my citrus princess is fighting the other goddess.

Three: She is right in the path of the collapsing pillar, as hoped for planned.

Four: The echoes of some single loud, sharp, percussive sound still resound around the shrine grounds.

It sounds like the echo of gunfire, like the movies.

...But louder, maybe because I'm near it?

Someone begins to laugh.

>[ ] Note to my fellow filthy American pig-dogs: Remember to set your clocks ahead an hour, tonight.
(Spring forward, and all that.)

I AM ADORABLE

LOVE ME OR BE CRUSHED.

Previous thread: >>113743

>>114600
GOOD LORD THAT'S ADORABLE
GOLIATH DOLL GET

[x]Focus

[x] Focus

[X] Finesse

Suwako shot Orange? Orange shot Suwako?

[X] ___________

Going all in without even picking up the cards~

[x] Focus

[x] Focus
What are the chances of winning this? Shit will be cash when Sanae wakes up and joins the fray.

[X] Finesse

I get the feeling Suwako's going to recall or make more blades after she misses.

[x]Finesse

Focus is slow and is better at dodging dense danmaku. Orange needs to /move/.

[X] Finesse

[x] Finesse

[x] Finesse
Oh dear, Sanae somehow snapped again without anything else to snap with.

>>114648
>Sanae snapped
Good times for all!
Except all those who are involved.

[X] Finesse

[ ] Finesse

[X] Finesse

>>114656

Translation?

>>114690
"This is kinda fun"
http://danbooru.donmai.us/post/show/423565

[+] Finesse
I love the way you play out a crazy girl's POV in a fight, Fell.

No idea if I'm going to update tonight. I hope so, but I'm really not sure. Maybe some time in the next 3-5 hours.

>>114699
I know, so do I. And thank you. everything normally. Not looking forward to that.
...In fact, I'm probably going to change how I write Orange Side a little bit. The current style is making me want to write the next update(s), and that is a bad sign if I ever heard one.

>>114803
How is wanting to write the next few updates a bad sign? One'd think the opposite would be true.

>>114805
Er, making me not want to write them. Thank you.

[ք] Finesse

The youkai woman sprints across the path, and past the row of tall red pillars, intent on recovering her staff, even as it rolls away. She doesn't seem to notice the weapons hurled by the frog goddess as they fly across the distance between them with lightning speed, and has not once looked back at the diminutive deity.

This is the mark of one who knows what is going on at all times.

It is also the mark of the clueless and unaware, but they are generally not alive long enough to make a career out of their terrible inability to perceive.

A fraction of a second before the first sword reaches her, Orange rolls gracefully into a cartwheel, managing to both continue towards her goal, and avoid danger.

Suwako, not being a moron either, had wisely chosen to throw the second blade a short distance ahead of the first on the projected path to the staff. Not only that, but the moment the second sword left her hand she had dropped to her knees, closed her eyes for a moment, and pulled a long, simple, but no less effective-looking spear— made out of the finest steel around —out of the ground.

The youkai turns another cycle on the cartwheel, then comes to a sudden halt, upside-down. Her legs fly out and perfectly horizontally, doing the splits while standing on her head. It's no simple showboating: the second blade whirls through the space her body would have been, had she still been running upright.

She laughs, feeling the surge of energy finally flowing through her. Those beans are terrible, wonderful things. What somebody like Kazami was doing handing those out was beyond her, but if anyone knew where to get them, it would probably be her.

The blazing rush of positive energy rolls through her body, filling every movement and step and second with barely-contain-able excitement.

She just hopes they can make it out of here not only in one piece, but to somewhere safe before the aftereffects kick in.

With a twist of her torso, she turns her body 180 degrees, and flips herself back upright with a simple and powerful thrust of her arms. Back on her feet, she closes the remaining distance and snatches up her lost weapon.

Crouching and turning about, she brings it to bear in time to see smaller girl dashing for her, spear ready, blue tassel bouncing on its cord tied about the shaft. The goddess stabs fiercely downward, only to have her weapon be bashed aside. A moment later, this embarrassing event is followed up by an unpleasant kick to the side of her head, knocking her out of the air and away.

The youthful god curses, and goes tumbling away on the cobbles before coming to a stop. She glances back at her opponent: the youkai has assumed a perfect stance, and slowly approaches her. Patient, alert, and itching to unleash a severe asskicking the moment the strangely-behatted god makes a mistake.

Hmph.

'She's not the only one,' thinks the god, and giggles. She assumes a pose she remembers from watching the Olympics in Tokyo (oh so many years ago), and gracefully dives into the ground as if it were no more than water.

[ ] Sonar ping
[ ] Run silent

________________________________________________________________________________

Short update, but I'm totally feeling it, now. Don't need to worry about future Orange Side things, now, I think.

It occurred to me that "Suwacurvy" would be a great pixiv tag for adult/healthy Suwako, except that it wouldn't translate well.

>>114605
~

[X] Sonar ping

[x] Sonar ping

DEPLOY DEPTH CHARGES

>aftereffects
fffffuuuuck.

[x] Run silent

[x]Sonar Ping
I was going to choose the other options but the only disadvantage in pinging is when the other side doesn't know you're there. K'nackers KNOWS you'd be looking for her, the only thing she'd get out of you attracting her attention is getting distracted.

Which means she's still not focusing on her pillars.

[x]Sonar Ping
and being a goddess of earth, she must sense everything on top of it. making the silent option meaningless

[x]Sonar Ping

[x] Sonar ping

[x] Sonar ping

[x] Sonar ping

>>114829
I point out that almost all touhous can fly. Sensing shit on the ground is pretty worthless as anything other than an ambush technique when that is taken into account.

My honor has been slighted. As a gentleman, I must respond.

The update is being briefly delayed.

>>114849
Have at those rotters, good sir.

>>114849
You! Look what you did there. You should feel terrible, and awesome... terribly aweso-No wait that's not right.
...
You write a good story and you should feel bad abou-Damn it, that's still wrong!
...
Argh! How the hell is one supposed to complain about an author being so good that the paranoia from his story is being carried into others!?

>>114855
It's not his fault, it's the idiotic anon's fault for projecting his Sanae on to someone else's.

The challenge was answered, and I emerged victorious. Writing shall begin posthaste.

[ↂ] Sonar ping

Orange looks around carefully and quickly. There is no time to waste on confusion and uncertainty. There is time only for countermeasures and nullifying the goddess' advantage.

Easier said than done.

She closes her eyes, and breathes calmly, rhythmically. Just like manipulating the metal in the lock, the secret is in the breathing. After that, it's a simple matter of contact and pressure.

Where?

She taps her foot, once.

Seconds pass.

She opens her eyes, and whips her head around to see the youthful god hopping up out of the ground and grabbing her fallen spear. The girl pulls the eyelid of one of her hat's eyes— if it had eyelids —and sticks out her tongue at the woman before plunging soundlessly back into the ground.

Well, that wasn't good. The sensing of the god's presence under the cold earth worked, but only when she was right about to surface. The resulting timeframe she had in which to act first was very small. But hey, she figures with a grin. Better than too late, or nothing at all, right?

Right!

-tap-

...Nothing.

-tap-

Nothing.

-tap-

Oh shit, she's right below—!

With a magnificent backflip, the red-haired woman hurls herself out of the way just before the girl pops out the paved courtyard, spear thrust up at angle. It's not a clean dodge either, as Orange now sports a fresh, ragged cut along one hip.

It will take much, much, much more than that to slow her down, however.

The youkai comes back and stabs downward at the ground just in time to miss the goddess as she sinks below with nary a sound.

"Dammit."

Once more, the waiting game.

Tap, step step. Tap, step, step. Tap— move.

There's another burst of frantic movement as Orange moves swiftly out of the way, and the blonde girl leaps out of the earth like a dolphin, spear held before her. She stabs, misses, and continues on her arcing path back through the paving-stone surface, leaving only an echoing giggle behind.

The process repeats once more, both participants unaware that another, similar battle is occurring behind them, on the other half of the shrine's front courtyard.

Orange steps around warily, occasionally tapping. Being on the defensive forever isn't going to cut it. Wasn't that the lesson Kabuki learned?

There.

The shorter goddess was coming around for yet another dolphin-like attack. Or perhaps it was more like a narwhal, with the spear and all. But no matter the imagery, getting stabbed would be unwise and counter-productive to today's activities.

The problem, reasons the youkai woman, is that the leaping child-thing has three dimensions accessible to her in which to attack, whereas she herself only has two: adding verticality would negate her own ability to attack.

But there's nothing wrong with using it temporarily, is there? Of course not.

She had figured this out after the first time Suwako had attacked her so. After that, it was just a matter of getting the timing right.

The time was now.

She feels the goddess rising, up and up and up, with the rebounding wave of generated by the release of energy governed by her rhythmic breathing.

Not close enough.

She takes another step, unwilling to let her know she's onto her.

Not close enough.

Another step.

Just right.

The youkai takes two steps, and jams one end of her staff into the ground, and heaves herself up almost six feet into the air, and curls her body into a perfect somersault, just as the goddess jumps out of the earth in yet another arcing attack.

Too late, she realizes that her target is nowhere in sight.

Directly above her, Orange's lips split in a fierce grin as she spins, and uncurls.

Down comes her staff, swung with both hands at the goddess' unprotected back at the zenith of her path. There is an audible crack as vertebrae are fractured by the force of the blow, and the youkai compounds this as her feet touch down together in the center of the girl goddess' back, slamming her bodily to the hard stone below.

In a broad sense, she feels remorse for doing this to her. But in the immediate and the here-and-now, it is do or die.

The goddess lets out a choked, pained whimper, and then a sharper, yet more muffled cry as Orange takes a step forward on her back. Raising the staff above her head, the youkai prepares to bring it down once more upon Suwako's form to crush her head in.

The girl's head turns.

She doesn't look to the side, or look over her shoulder with tear-streaked eyes.

Her head turns completely around to face her enemy, this uppity stick-swinging bitch, with grim amusement on her face.

Even the hat looks malevolent, somehow. It does not seem the goofy, comical thing it was several minutes ago. It seems more menacing, somehow.

The girl's mouth splits apart her cheeks, revealing a wide, inhuman mouth, like that of a frog.

"Well, you've got some moves, haven't you, Miss?" asks the goddess. The fact that her voice sounds exactly the same as before only increases the surreality of the moment.

Orange blinks not even once, and brings the staff down anyway. If you let yourself be shocked by weird things in Gensokyo, you'll never get anywhere but dead.

Suwako barks out a laugh at the red-haired woman's complete lack of reaction to this new development, and in doing so, opens her mouth wide.

Wide.

A long, thin, rope-like red tongue shoots out of the deity's mouth, and wraps around the staff. It tugs the weapon off its path, pulling it sharply to the side where it smashes apart the cobbles next to her head. With a strong pull, it yanks the weapon out of her grasp and flings it a short distance away before whipping back around to wrap tightly about her assailant's throat. Her mouth opens wider still, revealing sharp, unpleasant-looking fangs, and begins to pull the youkai in.

Orange strains against the force of the tongue, but it's ever so slowly reeling her in. Dissatisfied with the slowness of the process, the childlike goddess' spear-holding arm twitches and jumps, making several unpleasant cracking noises and shifting motions, before it bends neatly backward, and plunges the spear towards the side of Orange's head.

The taller woman flings up a hand to protect herself, catching the spearhead around the shaft. But in doing so, she loses several inches, and her head is pulled closer to that horrific, gaping maw.

A normal human would have been unconscious or dead from strangulation long before now, but thanks to a lifetime of physical training and astounding fitness, on top of youkai strength, she's able to blast past those limits. Nevertheless, she can't do this forever, and if the runt-bitch bites her head off, it's going to be the end of her anyway.

This thought firmly in mid, she pushes down hard on the arm holding the spear and attempting to shove it in her head, and pins it to the cobbles. Once that's done, she leans over to that side, brings her other arm to bear, and begins pounding the ever-loving shit out of the goddess' twisted, re-arranged arm, delivering hellishly powerful blows with every punch.

Bone cracks, breaks, splinters apart, and the god beneath her screeches a dry, frog-like croak of pain. The tongue tightens about her throat, and yanks her up bodily, flinging her away, in any direction that isn't there.

The unexpectedly strong throw sends her into one of the red wooden pillars, knocking the youkai woman for a temporary loop. Dizzy and disoriented (yet laughing at the weird, intense thrill of it all), she lies there for a bit, rubbing her throat and trying to regain her bearings before getting to her feet and looking for her staff.

-------------------------------------------------------

Suwako, healing herself as quick as she can manage, also clambers to her feet. This youkai woman, she muses as she re-assembles her arm, fusing and regenerating the shattered bones, is a lovely opponent.

Better than Kanako, who cheesed her way out of a fight with that fucking underhanded rust trick. Better than Reimu, unless it was a danmaku match. Better than the witch, who just blasted everything in her path.

Few people had the decency to fight an honest to goodness fight these days with actual weapons. The tengu did, but they weren't so hot on trying to smack around one of the gods of the mountain. That little girl the ghost princess employed might give her a good challenge, but she'd only met her once or twice.

She gives her arm a few swings, and stretches her back a few times. "Yep yep, everything good as new~" she announces to herself, and turns to see the youkai snatching up her staff.

But this woman... she was fun. It was a shame she was going to have to kill her.

With sigh and a shrug, she plunges her hands into the earth to pull out her next weapon.

She wouldn't even see it coming.

The red-haired youkai doesn't see it coming.

Crashing sounds off behind her tell her of Kabuki's fight against the other goddess. If she's still fighting, she's still alive, and that makes her happy.

She snatches up her staff, locates the little god, and makes a beeline for her, already forming a plan of attack.

The only clue she has comes far too late, when the blonde goddess reaches her hands into the ground, and pulls up a length of chain that disappears back into the earth. She watches as the girl braces herself, and then hauls mightily on the chain, which rips up out of the cobbles as neatly as if it passed through water.

The chain is pulled up in a line, like a rope being pulled out of a lake. The line, she notices, is right on her path.

"Shit."

Something large, round, and metal bursts out of the ground and smashes into, sending the youkai woman flying once again, and not without a great deal of pain.

She collapses some distance away, and the frog goddess skips over to her, smiling down at her battered and nearly insensate opponent.

"Didn't see that one coming, didja?" she asks, cheerfully.

"No," admits Orange.

The girl hefts a fist-sized lump of metal on the end of the chain, and begins to twirl it.

"Sooo... any last words? You really did good, I hafta say."

"...What?"

Last words? No way. She's not even close to done with this little brat. If only she could get up...

"You, know, like, 'What do you want on your tombstone?' or something," she clarifies, adopting a deeper voice momentarily. Frowning, she adds, "And if you start listing pizza toppings, I'm going to put your head on a stick and throw it into a fucking swamp."

The youkai blinks at her in confusion. "Not only do I not know what the hell you're on about, I..." She coughs, and props herself up, slightly, wincing. "...I don't need any last words or a tombstone yet."

The child goddess' eyes roll, along with the eyes of her hat. "Yeah, yeah, heroic to the end. Look, I'm trying to be nice here, you damn cooze. Would you just fucking tell me what your epitaph should be so we can get on with this already?"

Orange smirks. "I am going to make such a horrific mess out of you."

"...Really? That should be my line. Your head's going to look like an overripe peach in a blender when this hits it, but at least it'll make for an interesting gravestone. Bye, lady."

With a shrug, the earth god spins the metal weight faster and faster, allowing it to gain slack.

The report of a gunshot echoes across the early morning air, and the little blonde girl stumbles slightly, a look of surprise forming on her face as she lets go of the spinning silvery ball, which goes flying off into the air.

A small bloom of dark red begins to appear on her purple shirt, growing in size.


[ ] Wagner.
[ ] Charlie!

________________________________________________________________________________

The next update, regardless of option chosen, is going to be so fun to write.

>>114859
This was one of the most amusing godawful-quality things I have ever created. And that was an hour and six minutes' worth of work, apparently. Pretty sure not all that time was spent drawing, though. Or on the computer.

[x] Charlie!
lets go to candy mountain charlie!

[X] Wagner.

I have no idea what the hell just happened but I bet it was awesome.

[x] Wagner.
>The next update, regardless of option chosen, is going to be so fun to write.
Incoming mindfuck.

[x] Charlie!

Whoa, whoa, Orange just shot Suwako? Fucking awesome.

[X] Wagner.

Ride of the Valkyries time.

>The child goddess' eyes roll, along with the eyes of her hat.
Even considering the circumstances, that's pretty moe.

[X] Wagner.

I know I'm supposed to be thinking Apocalypse Now, but all I can hear is the bit near the end of Die Meistersinger's overture with all the dissonant trumpets.

[x] Charlie!

Voting against the currently-winning option because fuck if I know what else to do right now.

[x] Wagner.

Let the dice roll. Any number is gonna be crazy sweet.

Well, if both options are indeed Vietnam-themed, things, Wagner is probably something to do with the cavalry arriving, and Charlie! is something to do with the enemy.

Except I don't know how this relates to actions to take, or something. Maybe it's to do with how she thinks of it? Or it could be one of Fell's "changes the situation instead of deciding an action" options.

I'm going with

[x] Wagner.

It seems to have the best chance of being something good.

[x] Wagner.

This DS spellcard is strangely relevant to this story.

>Rainbow Sign "Over The Rainbow"
>Owner: Kogasa Tatara

>A glorious rainbow appears!
>A rainbow is apparently a type of dragon god—such a mysterious being.

[X] Wagner.
She didn't see that coming did she?

[X] Charlie!

And then it turns out that the baby did it.

[x] Wagner.

[X] Wagner.

[x] Wagner.

[x] Wagner.

>Well, I suppose it isn't silently, but since I can't hear anything, it's silent.
>Right.
>After wiping my knife on my skirt, I sheath it, and look around, as if it's going to do any good. On the off chance that it does, I can come off as though I looked like I knew what I was doing all alo—
>Wait.
>What was that?
>I freeze, despite this being the stupidest thing I could possibly do at the moment.
>I mean, I'm deaf and she's invisible, or hiding herself in the air or something and my nose isn't so good that I could smell her out, like Orange could. And on top of that, I'm standing stock-still.
>All I need is a "hit me" sign on my back. Or my everywhere. Possibly even my anywhere.
>Wherever those are.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJ8LYLUrcag

>You, know, like, 'What do you want on your tombstone?' or something," she clarifies, adopting a deeper voice momentarily. Frowning, she adds, "And if you start listing pizza toppings, I'm going to put your head on a stick and throw it into a fucking swamp."

[x] Wagner.

I don't think seeing things from our enemy's position is a good thing at all, especially since the tides have turned in our favor.

[x] Wagner.

Magical Morning Update fucking delayed.

If I get back before my writing spirit is completely crushed, and more crap doesn't pain down on me, then there just might be another update today.

[⊕] Wagner.

Orange looks around, almost as confused as her opponent. Was it Kabuki..."

No. Her beloved is fighting with the other goddess who does not appear to be fighting back; apparently too busy staring this way to notice the youkai kicking one of the red wooden pillars over onto her. She smiles a bit, glad that she is safe for the moment.

No, it was somebody else. Somebody else here, assisting them. But who?

"PULL!" yells a new voice, all of a sudden. There is a slight shifting in the trees at the edge of the shrine grounds where the voice came from, and then another gunshot.

That is followed in succession by a loud metallic -ping!- as the stray silvery orb is clipped by the bullet and gets knocked off its twirling path, a cry of surprise from Kanako as she finally notices, too late, the pillar bearing down on her, a tremendous THUD as it lands, a madness-filled giggle from the trees, and a heavy clanking sound as the earth god's steel ball lands back on the ground, two-thirds of the way across the grounds from its owner.

The short goddess looks around in confusion, then over at the trees with a glare. But before she can do anything, there is another gunshot, and she stumbles again, a little harder. Red begins seeping through her shirt collar.

Another shot, and she is swaying like a drunk, trying to do something, anything, if only she could stand upright and focus.

Yet another shot, and part of her hat bursts apart in a flurry of red-spattered fibers. She drops to her knees, then falls forward and lands on her face, and is still.

The movement in the trees becomes a movement out of the trees, as a mass of reddish-green leaves in the vague shape of a person floats gently to the ground.

I hear a voice A familiar voice yell something, and there's another shot, then a clanging noise. Something goes flying away.

War Mother looks back at me and finally sees the mass toppling over onto her. There's no time for her to do anything but cry out in anger and surprise as the heavy wood pole smashes her flat.

The rush of surprise is invigorating, and the force of the impact rattles my bones and shakes me into action. I cheerfully dash past her crushed form to go help my citrus princess.

If this is who I think it is, my mind's going to be blown.

But at the same time, I feel sort of good about not having been forgotten entirely.

Well.

I generally like not being forgotten, anyway, as long as it's by someone whose company I enjoy. I could stand being forgotten by he green girl.

Three more shots ring out, and Child Mother is down for the count. A pool of red begins forming around her hat, so she's probably down pretty hard.

I reach Orange's side just as some kind of leaf monster holding a long And also leafy thing floats down to the ground from up in the trees.

"Did, did you fucking see that?" the shambling leaf-thing exclaims. "Goddamn, that was priceless. Little putz barely knew what hit her. Little lead happy pills, that's what, what fucking hit her. Bam, and the god is gone!"

The leafstrosity smacks the palm of its free hand against the long thing, shaking loose a few leaves, and lets out a strange, disjointed laugh that I recognize immediately. This confirms my suspicions.

"...Thank you, but... Who are you?" asks Orange, grateful but wary.

"Yahaha~ Sorry, forgot." With a snap of its fingers, the leaves fall off of the figure, revealing White Opening in a darker, muted version of her normal maid-ish outfit. Straps and pouches line and criss-cross her clothes, and she holds one of those longer guns in in her hand.

My citrus princess is shocked, while I've moved past that into amused and perplexed.

"What... You're Kana Anaberal, aren't you? Why.. No, how did you even get here?"

White Opening grins widely, and tips her hat Also darker down so that it covers her eyes.

"The miko in white and blue fled up the mountain," she says, in a low, dramatic voice, "and the poltergeist followed."

We stand there for a moment, unsure. White Opening looks up at us, frowning. "...Don't tell me you guys don't get that."

It's a reference of some kind?

"Get what?" I ask.

She sighs in irritation, and turns a glare on us. "Thanks crapping on my dramatic reveal, guys. You, you really couldn't have just read the damn book? Really? Jesus H."

She stomps her foot, and her voices rises to match her temper. "...D'you know how fuckin' long it took me to settle on something that good? Goddamn, seriously! I spent three.. no, four, four days on that! And you just ruin it it like it was nothing! And let's not forget how long I've been up here waiting for your sorry ass—"

She points an angry, black-elbow-gloved finger accusingly at me.

"—to show up? And holding all those leaves on me, and sleeping in a goddamn tree, worried out of my damned skull that Greenbitch, Jailbait, Rope-fiend, or one of the goddamn tengu might show up and spot me?! Holy shit, do you know how long it's been since I've been able to have a fucking cigarette?! Too fucking long, that's how—!"

She stops abruptly in mid-apoplectic-tirade, and looks back and forth between the unmoving forms of Child Mother and War Mother.

"Hey, hold on a tick," says the ghost in a suddenly normal tone, tinged with hopeful curiosity. "...You guys already take care of Greenbitch?"

I nod, happily. It's been one of the day's most satisfying accomplishments so far.

"Sweet." Pulling out a little box, and a block of metal, she taps out one of the little paper-sticks. Popping open the block of metal, there's a scratch and a click, which produces a flame that she uses to light one end of the stick. Putting it between her lips, she inhales deeply, making the end of the stick glow brightly.

"...Ahhhh... That's good," she says, much more mellow, now. Putting away box and block back into the pouch they came from, she turns back to us, and stands a little straighter. Her movements become more graceful and careful, almost as if practiced.

"Forgive me for that unsightly outburst," she says, dipping her head apologetically. "What were we discussing? I fear it has escaped my mind."

[ ] What the hell
[ ] How the hell
[ ] When the hell
[ ] Why the hell
[ ] i dont even

________________________________________________________________________________

>>114912
Dammit.
Zun, you fucking poser. I had that idea first.

>>114915
I was just about to go to sleep last night when I read this post for the 3rd or 5th time that evening, and all of a sudden, I remembered the reference.

What is this
[X]i don't even

What is this
[X]i don't even

But it was still awesome. Now I suggest we make like a tree and leaf before those two wake up. They won't be going for anything fancy the next time.

[X] i dont even

Stupification is the only logical option.

>Pretend it`s anything but a bird.jpg
One of the most deceptive guns ever.

[x] i dont even

>>114954
I'll allow it.

I don't know what to choose. Going to wait a few hours.

[x] What the hell
[x] How the hell
[x] When the hell
[x] Why the hell
[x] i dont even

Fuck year Kana.

>Or perhaps it was more like a narwhal

Was that a reference to NARH's new story?

[x] When the hell

[x] What the hell
[x] How the hell
[x] When the hell
[x] Why the hell
[x] i dont even

[X] i dont even
[X] What the hell
[X] How the hell
[X] When the hell
[X] Why the hell

Man, I hope we at least get a summary of what Kana route would have been like, after this is all over.

[x] ____ the hell

[x] huh?
just a little writein for yall

[x] What the hell
[x] How the hell
[x] When the hell
[x] Why the hell
[x] i dont even

A Kana is added.

[x] How the hell
>>"The miko in white and blue fled up the mountain," she says, in a low, dramatic voice, "and the poltergeist followed."
"Traveling Kogasa oh Travaling Kogasa~."

>>114965
I'm curious as to how this story is structured in the first place, since for all we know there might not be a Kana route. This is no mere CYOA, boy, no mere CYOA.

>>114971
See >>110092:
>Also, as a point of interest, the other route in this story would have been Kana.

[➪] <wat>

"I don't have the slightest idea," I reply, before Orange can say anything. "How, why, what... when... anything? I don't even know anymore."

I pause, and reflect on the current situation.

"...I'm pretty damned glad you did, though," I add. No sense in being ungrateful about it.

"Well, I finally decided to do something about the situation. I had been pondering it for several days after you vanished from the concert that night. We were all worried, but Lyrica was quite adamant about respecting your wish that we not involve ourselves."

"...So... you're here why, then?"

White Opening looks at me a little guiltily.

"I was unable to get any work done. This notion of simply leaving you to fend for yourself seemed unfair, so I came along to see if there was anything that could be done. I hid myself here and kept an exceptionally low profile, visibly and spiritually. It is very, very, very, very difficult to hide from gods on their home soil, but it can be done. It is very unpleasant, however, and dangerous as well."

"Well, thanks for disrespecting my most important request," I tell her, without an ounce of unhappiness. "Turned out rather nicely."

She laughs that disjointed laugh again, although in a softer and more genteel fashion. It's a bizarre way to hear it.

"So!" she says, clapping her gloved hands together. "Shall we be off, then?"

Orange looks a little disturbed. "...We can't," she says, turning around and gripping her staff, tighter. "They aren't dead enough to make the boundary field collapse."

The rattle of chain is the only warning we have.

And then the sound of impact, and a bloody hole is punched through my citrus princess.

She looks down, swears mightily, and crumples to a heap.

I'm so shocked, I can't even feel panic.

There's just this dull, unreal sense of "...what?"

"Oh dear," says White Opening, as if someone had announced the closing of a store she enjoyed visiting. She smoothly tosses her long gun to the ground, and withdraws a pair of handguns, turning around to face a grimly smiling earth goddess pulling her chain back.

Beyond her, War Mother flies toward us, black iron poles rematerializing once more.

"Miss Orange, will you be all right?" asks White Opening, voice tense.

"Gimme five minutes... maybe seven? Ten'd be nice." she croaks wetly, and coughs up some blood.

"Five to ten minutes it is, then!" says White Opening confidently, and blasts off to do battle with Child Mother.

Orange looks up at me, as I stand there trembling. "Don't worry too much about me, love," she says, and pats my leg. "Just keep them away from me, and I'll be good as new soon enough. Kazami doesn't hand out things that don't work, after all."

Her words snap me out of my shell-shocked state, and I nod, fiercely. I lean down to her, and we share a brief, bloodstained kiss. "You got it," I say, trying not to cry.

She's going to be all right, right?

Right?

I don't even know anymore.

"Please don't die," I tell her. It's not the most well-planned of parting remarks, but she knows what I'm trying to express. Nodding, she leans back, and points ahead of us.

"I'll try, dear. You've got a visitor coming, though."

I nod, and we squeeze hands together once, before parting.

And like this, battle is joined anew.

[ ] Tiger tiger, burning bright
[ ] Fox on the run
[ ] Circling jackals


[ ] Moving objects
[ ] A sudden fright


________________________________________________________________________________

This update went better in my head.

>>114963
No, but you all should read that anyway. Untitled/"Curses Foiled" in /youkai/.

>>114970
You lost me.

>>114965
Very strange.

>>Yet another shot, and part of her hat bursts apart in a flurry of red-spattered fibers. She drops to her knees, then falls forward and lands on her face, and is still.

BEAUTIFUL.

[X] Tiger tiger, burning bright
[X] A sudden fright

Because it rhymes.

[x] Tiger tiger, burning bright
Like a dashing knight, saving the day! God, I love that character.
Also? Those two are going down.

[x] Circling jackals
[x] Moving objects

[X] Tiger tiger, burning bright
[X] A sudden fright

[x] Fox on the run
>>You lost me.
The Talismen.
Great I feel old for making that reference.

>>114982
forgot
[x] Moving objects

[X] Tiger tiger, burning bright
[X] A sudden fright

I hope Kana told the Prismrivers where she went and why, so if she doesn't come back, they can spread the news about the Moriya shrine torturing and killing youkai. Kanako and Suwako can't fix it by killing off the Prismrivers because they're celebrities.

>>114982
What?

...No.

The Gunslinger. That's the joke. I have no earthly clue what you are talking about.

[x] Tiger tiger, burning bright
[x] A sudden fright
Light up the night~

[X] Tiger tiger, burning bright
[X] A sudden fright

>>114982
>>114986
Out of those two I've only read The Talisman, but didn't King end up connecting all his books with little phrases and junk?

I don't suppose this is one of them..."

[x] Fox on the run
[x] Moving objects


>No, but you all should read that anyway. Untitled/"Curses Foiled" in /youkai/.

Heh... every little bit helps; spreading the good word where possible. That said:
>>113888
and
>>96336

Honestly, do yourself a favor and indulge in one of the best stories this site has to offer.

>>114989
Oh yeeeeeeah. I forgot that was a book of his. Never read it. Yeah, go read the Dark Tower cycle.

>>114990
What are you linking to, exactly?

[x] Fox on the run
[x] Moving objects

Sounds like a good tactic, and until Orange recovers, we can't try to do any surprise tactics.

>>114986
>>114991
I have read the entire thing to know that's the first and last thing you read. I just think the Tailsmen is more apporipate for this story considering the elements.....let's just hope we don't get the Black House ending.

[Ⴡ] Tiger tiger, burning bright
[∑] A sudden fright

I sprint at War Mother, wanting nothing more than to wreak great amounts of violence upon the local gods at the moment. Before, it was more about survival, and probably a good deal of resentment for them giving the okay to the green girl's Crazy Program for Crazy Youkai.

Now, it's become extremely, painfully personal.

Gunshots echo through the courtyard; shorter and comparatively quieter, but coming more often. White Opening laughs in delighted, aristocratic amusement as she tangles with "Jailbait."

I think that's what she called Child Mother, at least. The word is foreign and makes no sense, but "Rope-fiend" and "Greenbitch" sort of narrow the possible candidates down.

I run closer and closer, gauging the timing until it's just right, the cobbles flying past beneath my feet but only I am moving except I think the earth moves too, so it's a race.

It's not a good idea to take on an entire planet, so you always have to make sure the planet knows this is just a friendly match.

"No hard feelings, okay?" I tell the ground.

Now time is the right time.

I spring up into the air to meet her charge head-on.

Like last time, she brings the black pillars close together in front of her. They clank as they form that little wall, but I'm ready for that. Grabbing the top of one of them, I easily heave myself over and deliver a kick to her face. She grunts in pain, then grabs my leg and flings me bodily to the ground.

Right, right. I'd forgotten about that. She's got good reflexes and a high tolerance for pain.

She's not completely unstoppable, though, as there's still plenty of drying blood from when she got whacked with the red pole.

All right, then. I'll need to hit hard when I get in close to her, make it count so she's down for the count. Otherwise, it won't be worth it.

Hi, ground!

WHAM

Ouch, ground.

I bounce once on landing, and roll away. Turning the roll into an intentional thing, I roll a little further, and snatch up a rock fragment from a section of shattered paving. As I come out of the roll, I use the turning motion to my benefit and sling the rock up at her.

There's a yelp and a tiny rush, and then she stops moving, instead turning down to look at me.

"...So... it's to be a throwing match?" she asks. Her voice sounds almost amused, now, not even irritated or— Well, no. She's still pretty pissed. But now she's going to enjoy what she does next, whatever that is.

'That' appears to be creating a whole bunch of those pillars all of a sudden from nowhere. She hefts a couple, and grins at me.

"I get to go first, then."

[ ] Prize in the eyes in the skies
[ ] Weave and warp and woof and what

[ ] Old West
[ ] old tricks

________________________________________________________________________________

Magical Morning Update strikes again, at its proper time.

Vote now, receive second (and longer) update sooner!

Also, how the hell does gauging not have a U in it? When did we remove the U from gauge? Is this a British vs. American English thing?

[x] Prize in the eyes in the skies

[x] Old West

[x] Prize in the eyes in the skies
[x] Old West

>Also, how the hell does gauging not have a U in it?
It certainly does where I come from. In fact, "gauging" gets twice the number of Google hits than "gaging".

[X] Weave and warp and woof and what
[X] Old West

What's with the two choices, I wonder? I was expecting an update with multiple viewpoints.

[x] Prize in the eyes in the skies
[x] Old West

>>115002
[X] Weave and warp and woof and what
[X] old tricks

[x] Weave and warp and woof and what
[x] Old West

[ ] Weave and warp and woof and what

[ ] Old West

if only i could decipher this choices...

>>115010

>[ ] Prize in the eyes in the skies
Take to the skies
>[ ] Weave and warp and woof and what
Dodge and weave
>[ ] Old West
Kana. Bang bang.
>[ ] old tricks
Kogasa.

You're pretty thick, ain'tcha?

[X] Weave and warp and woof and what
[X] Old West

[x] Weave and warp and woof and what
[x] Old West

[X] Weave and warp and woof and what
[X] Old West

Man, I come in here to read one of my favorite stories and find advertisement? Now I'm actually gonna have to uphold some standards, you silly bunch. I guess I should mention while I'm here that I am extremely happy with where this has gone and what this has come from. Good show, Fell.

[x] Prize in the eyes in the skies
[x] Old West

[x] Prize in the eyes in the skies

[x] Old West

[∭] Weave and warp and woof and what

My response is swift and immediate, yet thoughtfully considered, and carefully chosen.

I snort in derisive amusement. "Yeah... yeah, you'd better. 'Cause, really. I'm going to look like such an asshole afterwards if I don't let you try to get the first shot in."

Her grin falters for a moment, then comes back, darker and wider than before.

"It's a pity you won't live long enough to be mocked for that," she says, and throws the pillar at me.

It races for me with blinding speed, but I'm easily able to dance out of the w— no, no I'm not. I take another couple of steps, turn, step, and avoid yet another black pillar, screaming down at me. I look up again.

...It seems I'll be busy this morning.

More, more, and more of the black iron columns rain from the sky, smashing into the ground with a jarring impact, then disintegrating.

I continue to dance and skip out of the way of the iron rain Better than than an iron sunrise merrily weaving between every painful rainful clangful drop.

I can manage this just fine.

That's why I don't put half as much effort into this as I otherwise could: I'm sure she's got more in store.

Sure enough, after a moment, expanding waves of some kind of pulsating blue crap start to fall down along with the metal poles, making the exercise just a wee bit trickier.

The crapwaves make whole long stretches of ground unable to be crossed when they land, and the heavy rain makes it almost impossible to fly in.

My dance goes on for another minute or two, and those damnable waves get wider and wider. I can't keep doing this. I have to ascend.

Maybe I'll get in a good punch to the nose before she downs me again. It won't matter much, but damn, it'll feel good. With this happy thought to guide me, I make my way carefully up into the sky, continuing to duck and weave in between the black shower.

It almost seems easier, but maybe that's the positive thinking talking. These bean things pump out good times like no tomorrow.

There's got to be a downside to them.

Eh I'll burn that bridge after I've been standing on it a while.

Good times~

I wind my way to War Mother, growing ever closer. I still need to twirl, twist, and duck, but the going is easier, now. As an added bonus, the nearer to her I am, the smaller those wavethings are.

She's coming to the same realization, and all of a sudden, the rain of pillars and blueness ceases.

What next, then?

FOOM

Big, huge, ridiculously oversized shimmering blue balls blast past me. I'm lucky enough to have been in a gap between two of them, but I could feel the heat, even from here.

Normal danmaku this ain't.

I pull back a little, and move straight up a little ways, rather than aiming directly for her. Maybe this way I'll be ab—

FOOM

Goddamn, those things move fast!

I see it, finally. A triple-spoked spiraling wheel of those enormous blue bastards radiates out from—

FOOM

Sweet unholy fuck, that one almost took my arm off.

...I smell pork sizzling, and hear a certain crackling.

Uh.

I look down to see my left arm covered in horrific, terrible burns. The skin bubbles and sizzles, but seems to be slowly cooling.

you know

yeah?

what i felt was 'well, that could have easily killed me', but all i can think to say is 'good thing you're a rightie'

those bean pods are one helluva plant

aren't they just?

Well, that'll get better eventually. I hope. It hurts like I'd sliced it a hundred times and then dunked it in saltwater, but not as soothing or pleasant.

I take a dangerous moment to sniff my arm.

...Definitely smells like pork. Is it that because youkai really do taste like humans, or does it just smell that way because we have a human shape? And does it change for youkai based on living thingsLike Flygirl, or Tall Red, or Extra Bird as opposed to concept-based ones like Orange or myself?

It's an interesting id—

FOOM

Shit shit shit shit

I whip to the side just in time to avoid another salvo. I thi—

FOOM

Fuck!

I soar over this one, only barely making it. Now—

FOOM

Motherfucking hell

FOOM

"DIE IN A FIRE, SKYCUNT," I scream up at War Mother.

FOOM

FOOM
FOOM
FOOM

Okay, status check. Left arm is only cracked red and boiled-looking, now; that's an improvement. Right leg would probably go fine with some teriyaki sauce right now. It shouldn't be smoking like that. And Bitchface Dammit Ropefucker seems to have stopped her furious barrage of enormous blue sizzling bullshit.

Hooray!

I really don't expect it to be over that easy. And no, it is not.

Wide, criss-crossing waves of burning pointy I-don't-know-what begin sweeping towards me at great speed, while the bitch begins shooting a hail of more sharp flaming ugliness at me that fucking follows me. It follows me.

Swearing mightily and with great and furious force, I am forced to wiggle in and out of the holes in the expanding curtains of death rushing at me, all the while forced to keep up a steady clip so that those bastard youkai-seeking somethings don't perforate my finely formed rear.

I'm proud of my rear. It treats me well by looking good and cushioning nicely against hard surfaces, and I treat it well by not letting godawful razorlike incendiary hell befall it.

It's a partnership, it is.

This particular brand of ugly is actually easier to stay away from than her enormous blue balls, and she quickly tires of it.

There's another, blessed pause while she thinks up something new.

Suddenly, green.

Everywhere.

Goddamn everywhere!

I can't even see her anymore, it's so thickly shot. There's just this pulsating center in the middle of a colossal, expanding cloud of green blazing balls.

There's no way in hell I can dodge this.

...Alone.

you

me?

now

yassuh

I curl up inside and hide with my friend. We zoom on upwards, and even like this, the blizzard of green death still singes him now and then as we zip and dart between the tiny openings here and there.

War Mother stops her hellacious barrage, and looks about for me.

But I'm not there, am I~"

She's not entirely stupid, though. Even though she doesn't see me, she doesn't let down her guard.

Too late, though~

We're close enough to spit on her when I hop out of my friend's hiding spot. There's an appreciable rush as her head whips around to face me as I leap onto her.

Yanking my knife out of its sheath, I slash her twice cross the face in either direction, opening up a pair of scarlet lines on her features. She yells out in pain, and I punch her once in the nose, shattering it. Violent assault has never, ever felt so therapeutic.

With a joyful shout, I end it all, and plunge my knife into her heart.

She stumbles In mid-air? for a moment, and looks unsteady... but still very alive.

She looks down at the knife in her chest.

I look at it.

I'm kind of hoping she'll sort of keel over, but it doesn't seem to be happening.

She looks up at me.

I look at her.

"I am a god, little upstart," she says in a ragged, raspy voice. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

As fast as the winds she commands, she whirls about and delivers a roundhouse kick that sends me flying back to the ground.

But as luck would have it, I smash through the roof of the rear of the shrine, plow through two walls, and come to a stop as I slam up against a third before blacking out.

Lucky.

Yeah.

...I pass out.

[⌭] Old West

It would be most unbecoming to fail a colleague in need.

This thought drives you (because you are I are me are we and lets take turns children) on as you rush forward to do glorious battle with the young child goddess of the beast-people's mountain. Her curious hat even frowns along with her, making for a most amusing scene in any other circumstances but the current ones.

With a graceful hop and a jump (soaring high high high Father probably did this on his very last day did you enjoy it Father I know I am), you close the distance between yourself and the child, who seems in quite a temper. Leveling one of your handguns at her (Colt makes them nice but not as nicely as some) you open fire on the young girl.

Little red blossoms of color burst into being across her chest, and she makes an unseemly grunt before straightening. Swinging that argent sphere around her middle, then her arm, she sends it dashing towards your most precious self. Goodness, that won't do at all, no.

Altering course in mid-air, you soar in an arc over the child's head, employing your pistol to send another pair of shots her way. Alas, only one connects, for she has spun out of the way, using her sphere's momentum to somehow pull herself along in a most unexpected manner. Were you not trying to (erase murder eradicate obliterate kill kill kill kiiiiilllll teehee) eliminate her, you would have approved of such a resourceful maneuver.

"Darling, would you mind staying still?" you call out, hopeful that she might comply. "It makes it ever so hard to kill you this way~"

"Who the hell are you, lady?" replies the child.

You frown. This little brat has a bit of a potty mouth (FILL IT WITH SOAP UNTIL SHE CAN'T BREATHE AND LAUGH UNTIL YOU CAN'T EITHER ASHES ASHES WE ALL FALL DOWN).

"Merely a passing traveler~"

"Bullshit!"

She sinks into the ground as if it were no more than wash-water.

Ah. Ahaha~

You saw how this trick went.

Humming a cheerful little tune (eight six seven five three oh niiiine), you holster your sidearm, and pull out something a little nastier. Popping it open without touching anything but the handle, you check both barrels. Two brass cylinders greet you, and you nod in satisfaction. Clack it goes and shuts once more.

Ah, it's about that time, isn't it?

Throwing yourself forward in a most unladylike manner (Mme. Carreux would have a fit if she saw you now and the thought makes you titter because nothing will ever fit her again ha ha) you roll once, and come up into a kneeling position, arms positioned and braced just right...

The blonde goddess jumps out of the ground a moment later, smashing the ground in a whirling spin, which she comes out of, and sees a distinct lack of you.

She turns around, and you favor her with a proper noblewoman's smile before squeezing both triggers at once.

The shortened shotgun roars mightily (I am poltergeist hear me roar) and sends you momentarily off balance.

The little monster has a large, messy hole in her side. Tears stream down her face as she looks at you with fury, and struggles to get upright as blood pours from her in a crimson cascade.

"Are you all right, my dear?" you ask sweetly. "I just thought you might enjoy a whiff of the grape after your trip. It seemed the most appropriate response to your assault on my colleague's companion."

You pop the shotgun open, and discard the empty shells while two fresh ones fly out of a pouch on your belt and load themselves. The weapon clicks shut, and you return it to its holster.

"Fuck you, lady!" screams the girl, and flies into the air, unsteadily. The wound is already beginning to heal, but not very quickly. "I'm going to weld that mouth of yours closed with my bare hands if I have to, as long as it shuts you the hell up!"

You give a polite, gentle, uneven, and discordant laugh (Its not creepy its different a ha ha ha), followed by a playful batting of the hand.

"Oh, you. I can't wait for you to shut me up~!"

She flies back away from you, and begins to spit a spiral of green, sparkling, curling energy from her hands.

[ ] Follow the piper
[ ] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles

[ ] éclair
[ ] terre

________________________________________________________________________________

Wow. I screwed up formatting tags more often than ever, this update. Luckily, they got fixed quickly.

>>115005
>"gauging" gets twice the number of Google hits than "gaging".
Well, good to know I've not been wrong all along.

>What's with the two choices, I wonder? I was expecting an update with multiple viewpoints.
That's what the second block of choices has been for. Remember >>114456 ?
Although, as I said in >>114478 :
>Keep in mind that I will force a viewpoint shift at certain necessary intervals.
Said intervals being when events from the two separate fights cross over, or come back together, or something.

>>115018
You don't need to change a damn thing, unless it involves writing more.

>"DIE IN A FIRE, SKYCUNT,"
It's like I'm really playing Double Spoiler!

>I'm kind of hoping she'll sort of keel over, but it doesn't seem to be happening.
Goddamnit. Didn't we already do this once with Kurumi? We need to get some real firepower one of these days.

[X] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[X] terre

[x] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[x] éclair
wild voting 6 in the morning.

>>115033
Don't we still have some possible grenades? We should have stuffed one down her cleavage or something (assuming we do, in fact, still have them).

[X] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles

[X] éclair

[X] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[X] éclair

Kana will kill you like a classy lady. Or maybe she's really swearing up a storm while perceiving herself as being polite?

[X] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[X] éclair

[x] Follow the piper
[x] terre
Kana doesn't need Shikigami, she already makes her own voices inside of her head.

Glorious.
I love how batshit insane Kana is in this story.

[ø] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[ø] terre

Let's pick off Child Mother's head, shall we?

I've yet to capture that spellcard of Kanako's in DS. And the second part of that nonspell was always annoying...

[x] -

>a spiral of green, sparkling, curling energy
Assuming that's Frog Hunting "Frog Is Eaten by Snake due to the Croak," shouldn't Kana stay closer, rather than go to long range (If that's what the vote is for)?

>>115045

Insane? I wouldn't say that.
She's more along the lines of eccentric.

[X] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[X] terre

[X] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[X] terre

>>115032
[X] Follow the piper
[X] éclair

>[ ] éclair

French for lightning.

>[ ] terre

French for ground.

[x] terre
[x] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles

I want to see what Suwako sees, on the receiving end of Kana's shotgun.

Changing vote from >>115039 (already deleted)

[x] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[x] terre

[X] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[X] éclair
If we miss Suwako, it's safer off the ground. If we hit her, it's still safer since getting whacked by an onbashira is very slightly less deadly than getting squished by one.

I should have pointed this out earlier but currently Orange is in a critical situation - not because of the size of the wound, but more because the weapon that caused it has a lot of belief invested in it as a goddess' weapon.

Belief kills youkai, not the weapons itself, which is why ordinary knives literally won't hack it. Of course, if you DO manage to take down a god with a puny knife and word gets around, pretty soon that knife's going to be a Godslaying Knife +3 or something, and any other weapon you pick up will probably hold that trait if you make a habit of taking down strong youkai.

[x] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[x] éclair

[x] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[x] éclair

[+] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[+] éclair

And now, a bit of wild-assed guessing, which I will not use as a basis of theory upon which to cast my votes. (Spoilered, just in case.)

seemed to be the most injured (that is to say, the most debilitated in a lasting sense) by attacks to the froghat.

The hat is something of a symbol of Suwako's.

Gods are essentially ideals personified and given strength by faith and worship.

Ideas are given form via symbolism.

Theory: Suwako was hurt by that hat-shot because it's her symbol.

Kanako's symbol is the shimenawa she wears on her back.

Wild-assed guess: Damaging the shimenawa would hurt Kanako far more than a knife between the tits.

Just tossing that out there.

Man, tense situation.

(again, just in case)
[spoiler]Sanae wasn't killed. She could wake up anytime, and then our girl and her girls are in trouble. Still, I wonder if she'll even be able to call on the power of her gods when said gods are busy using said power themselves?[/spioler]

>>115084
Difference is that Sanae cannot shrug off bullets as easily as Suwako. It wouldn't be Kogasa's fault if Kana shot her.

>>115084
At least part of Sanae's power probably comes from her divine ancestry and resulting status as a living god, so she's probably still a concern.

And an alternate theory: Normal hats do not "burst apart into a flurry of red-spattered fibers". Suwako's hat is actually a part of her body, and she's slowed down because she's regenerating a significant portion of her brain.

>>115086
El Sombrero de la Rana. But that's an interesting theory, and with the way things have gone in this thread (umbrellas hitting on Yukari, etc.) it might not be too far off.

And yes, Sanae is still a concern, but she might be a tad less difficult to put down if she can't use her ground/sky radar hoodoo.

>>115085
This is true. And partly why I'm hoping she will show up.

...Also, I only just realized the typoed tag at the end there. Crap.

>>115087
...aaaand double Crap.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Comp crashed just as I finished up the update, and it partially corrupted the end of the file, which means about 4/5 of the update is dead and gone.

Going to rewrite it, but goddamn if that isn't a kick in the teeth.

Update: I scribbled down all the notes and ideas and bits I could remember, but it's too late to start again and too depressing to look at.

I'm going to channel two writefags at once in order to drown my sorrows, by getting drunk and playing Fallout.

Will write tomorrow.

>>115087
That always sucks. Here, have an adorable bird.

Sounds like we might need to bring out the big guns.

Hopefully this compressed Hina will help to raise your spirits.

>>115097
>>115100
Ugh...why are those so much smoother here then when I open them from my Touhou folder? Hina can't take my misfortune when she's all jittery...

>>115096

Japanese Goddess cooking misfortune?

>>115104
I was incredibly disappointed not to find a .rar with Hina H hidden in that .png file. Rectifying immediately.

>>115117
Well shit, I didn't even think of that.
I tip my hat to you, sir.

>>115117
Only one image? I'm kinda disappointed you didn't decide to stuff a whole Hina H-Doujin in there...

>>115119
The filesize limit is only 2 meg, so the only way an entire doujin could fit is by shrinking the pages horribly. It could've at least had a few more images, though.

Drunken Fallout + Hina helped. I suppose this is better for having been re-written, but damn.
______________________________________________________________

[℘] Pick off the piper's peck of pickles
[ᅎ] éclair

You drift away, edging back from the growing cloud of scattered sparkling energy. Danmaku is a most fiendish and tricksome thing at the best of times. When you consider that it's coming from a prominent god of Gensokyo, the situation becomes worse; when you add to that her earlier comments as well as those of her companion god, it becomes rather dire.

No names are declared, no spellcard boundaries are being established, and there is no formality to this process.

You suspect that being hit with this manner of danmaku will do a trifle more than cause a bit of numbness or pain (And you know plenty about pain dont you).

The spirit (thats you get it ha ha) refuses to be burdened with such depressing thoughts for very long, however. You have your own danmaku, if you needed it, but those brilliant humans in the outside world have— in the years since the erection of the Borders —gotten very, very, very good at making their own sort of lethal danmaku.

Careful research, cultivating friendships with the right people in the right places, making frequent trips to that half-breed tinker's "shop" (disaster area is more like it but hes never rude and often has reasonable prices and all manner of fascinating things), and a number of other things have resulted in quite a nice collection of Outside danmaku tools. Something in you was always certain that one day, like today, you would need them.

And here you are, needing it, and having it. Most fortunate for you, no (except for girls shooting warmly at you)?

Softly singing a different song (come on and grab your ammo~ what have you got to lose~), you set yourself in a slow, clockwise drift a safe distance away from the curling light-show. Drawing the handgun from earlier, you set the child within your sights, and squeeze (not pull) off a pair of shots, their birthing sounds echoing amongst the trees.

She flinches, but does not stop casting. If anything, she flashes you a devilish grin. How very curious. Why would...

Oh my. The trail has started to explode. And something bright is coming from your left. How foolish of you.

Racing forward with a hand pressed to your hat to keep it from flying off, you narrowly miss the fountaining shower of energy that coalesces where you were standing a moment ago. And as if that wasn't enough, the curling trail has begun to spit sparks and crackle like an enormous fuse (that brings back pleasant memories). How very troublesome.

The sparking section as the trail burns up has started on the second layer of the ring, which is approximately where you are currently. Flying around it, you circle past the violently disappearing section. Doing so means you must come perilously close to the outer as-yet-unexploded section, and for several breathtaking moments, you fly within a hands'-width of that green wall.

Coming out of it safely at last, you swoop in, and bring your weapon to bear once more, only to pull back as the child begins to generate another twisting trail of energy. Blue, instead of green, and heading counter-clockwise. Very irksome, but you suspect this is only the beginning.

As the second layer finishes bursting apart, and the third begins to do likewise, you pull back for a moment, mind racing over the possibilities. One stands out. It will neither be easy, nor lend itself well to a chance at an advantageous offensive position, but it should keep you quite effectively out of harm's way. Besides, this is about buying time, not squashing the little wretch under heel (under hill under dale under earth under hell where you should belong but a maiden's broken mind spells j-a-i-l-b-r-e-a-k she never was the same again but we love her anyway).

But, should it work, it will probably work splendidly.

Off you go, then.

Heading back in, you move over to a point just in front of where the sparking, sparkling head is forming, and keep pace with it, always just a few steps ahead of the scintillating dangerous energy. Your opening should be fast approaching.

There! The innermost trail begins to burst apart (like a rat when you stomp on it but rats are not blue inside or green) and you stay just ahead of the forming trail for another moment, and another, and now. Breaking off, you weave between the floating fluorescent flotsam, taking care not to get any on you or in you. Neither outcome would be desirable at all.

But at last you make it out of there safely and emerge into the void left by the disappearing inner trail. Nothing stands between you and her. It was true, this tactic did not lend itself well to chances at an advantageous offensive position. But who needs to borrow or be lent to when you're going to win anyway? Not you, that's for sure.

Still, this passing moment of insightfulness compels you to look back on similar situations in the past. Always, always that tense moment when everybody suddenly realizes the nature of the situation, but their brains haven't gotten them to start doing anything about it. Unless, of course, you already know exactly what you're doing, because you're the one who brought the situation about in the first place (get down on the floor and put your hands above your head).

You sigh mournfully.

"I hate robbing banks."

The girl blinks, confused for a barest fraction of a second, but your gun is already out and aimed and you empty the entire rest of the magazine into her.

...Most of the rest of it, at any rate. She manages to deflect and stop a few (metal counts as ground dont tell the japanese), but a large majority of them fill her body regardless. Jerking and twitching with each impact, the blonde god's spell fails and dies as her focus is broken. Her body sways and then begins to fall below.

Descending with her, you release the empty magazine and let it, too, fall to the earth.

For about a second.

Then it stops, as if seized by an invisible force (close enough to the truth), and flies back up depositing itself neatly into a pouch that opens for it, and seals shut behind it. It's important to not lose any of these thin metal boxes, as they are something of a rarity in Gensokyo. In Outsider films, they are shown being carelessly dropped to the floor while the shooter reaches for a new one. But behind the Borders, things are not so simple, and it is important to save everything.

It was one of the more difficult areas of firearm collection in Gensokyo. A spare magazine with no gun to accompany it was quite a rare find. The guns themselves, by comparison, were much more common.

And worse, the tinker wanted to be sure that each gun came with at least one of the metal boxes (of the ones that used them, or whatever they used) so as to render the weapon functional beyond the first shot. An understandable policy, but a frustrating one nevertheless. You would likely have smothered the tinker while he slept and then proceeded to abscond with his inventory and been done with it ages ago... were he not your primary supplier of such things, and a skillful one, at that.

Creating new ones was also largely out of the question, as most of the human smithies lacked the expertise or fine skill to accurately replicate them to the exact dimensions needed. Worse, the tengu metalworkers that likely could produce desirable results outright refused to, recognizing them for what they were (dirty nasty crows would have messed it up anyway god knows they cant do news worth a damn).

Then there was the issue of ammunition itself, which was somewhere between the guns and their supplies in rarity. Ammunition, while still being uncommon, had the wonderful advantage of generally appearing in large quantities at once. The real problem came in getting the right kind and size.

When you first started out, you had little idea of where to begin. But after repeated exposure, and the occasional book or magazine publication (soldiers are generally not fortunate nor possessed of great fortune), you discovered that there were a huge number of types of ammunition available, and that not all of it would fit into what you possessed. To this end, you altered the focus of your collection to be one designed for "scarce-supply-friendliness": guns that accepted multiple different sizes of ammunition, as well as those that used the most commonly-appearing (common here because that common may not be outside common because it has been a while since ive been there) calibers and sizes.

You were making some headway in this endeavor.

And then the fugitive-turned-sound-technician showed up, and now for some reason, you're out here risking your ass for her and hers. Why, again? You aren't sure, really, but it seems like the right thing to do (since when am i a fucking altruist), and at this point, there is nobody better qualified to help them than you. Although to be fair, there isn't anybody who can help them other than you, right now (i am the motherfucking lone ranger hi yo silver away).

Eh, whatever. If it keeps gnawing at you, you suppose, then there's always blackmail or something. You probably won't; these people have been through lots of bullshit. Now's not the time to bother with this sort of stuff; you've got violence to perpetrate. A felony a day keeps the conscience away~

You giggle, and it is a polite, discordant little thing.

Reaching into a different pouch, you withdraw a new, fully loaded magazine. Sliding it into the gun and chambering the first round produces pleasant mechanical clicking and sliding sounds (they satisfy the inside of the head and the out). All is good and all is well. Nearly all, at any rate.

The blonde godlet has pulled out of her groundward movement, and appears to have stabilized herself, somewhat.

Perhaps there is more fun yet to come! You so love a good sport such as her.

She breathes heavily and raggedly, clutching her dark shirt. Once light purple, it has now taken on a color more akin to maroon. Perhaps it will be burgundy before the morning's party is concluded (i love a fancy party too). Once you come into sight, she affixes you with a hateful glare.

"Oh my! Did you fall and scrape your knee? I should get a bandage for you; would you like a bandage?" you say, in the sickeningly sweet tone reserved for favored pets or young children.

Blood trickles out of her mouth as her smile turns ugly. Or perhaps uglier.

"Yeah... Something like that, sure. But don't you worry your poor head over me, okay? In fact..."

Her other hand flicks out in your direction, fingers spread apart and pointing at you.

"...Why don't you have a seat? You won't be going anywhere."

As she says this, seven bright lasers burst from her hands, lancing out into the space between you. One of them seems to have burnt a hole through the hem of your dress with a flash of light, and you can hear them humming (fuckdammit i liked that dress) with energy. But just a row of lines? What is this, bowling? Silly god-girl, this is ...well, child's play. You rise into the air, intending to hop over it to show her how pointless that was.

...and yet, you don't seem to be ...moving? Now, wait, you're moving. Oh. Blast her wretched hide, she's moving the pattern along with every movement you make. Well, fine. But the lane to her is still wide and clear~

You charge forward down this "hallway," and bring your gun up. You're about to start firing when she shakes her head sadly, tsk-tsking at the foolish mistake you've just made (dont you fucking look down on me).

Danmaku bullets burst forth into bright, pastel-colored life, swirling about her. You yelp in surprise, and dart back, careful to keep within the channel formed by the laser. They begin to bear down on you, and you can't see any real way out of this. Good lord, to be killed by a pattern reminiscent of Easter decorations? That's ...no. Good lord, no. You'd become the laughingstock of the afterlife (i was a tormented soul lingering on earth and all i got were jesus-egg-day danmaku in the face and this crappy t-shirt)!

Desperately, your eyes scan the oncoming pattern. You rise ever so slightly so as to get a better view of it, but not high enough that the golden godlet will adjust for the increase in elevation.

Hmm. It seems like two large pinwheels with bent spokes radiating out from her. Each is laid over one another and turning in opposite directions. Not much time left (tick tock tick tock move faster i always used to say and now it seems not so funny).

Come on, come on...!

There! An opening presents itself, and sure enough, stays viable before opening a way to another safe pocket. Wait for it to come back and now now now!

Darting inside it, you stay there for a moment before following the opening to the next safe patch. It moves back, drifting, and you have to move on to the next one again to avoid it collapsing on you, or being pinned against the laser wall.

Once more again, and through to safety. Okay, yes... this works. Once more... and there's a wide open area from when she's between pinwheel-generating casting points. Moving forward, you find that pocket again, and rest, move, rest, move, drift, drift, switch over, and... repeat.

And repeat.

Okay, this is getting irritating now. Yes, the purpose of this, your entire interference, was to buy time for Kabuki's friend Miss Orange to get out of the way or stabilize herself, but...

A quick look tells you that she's apparently not dead yet, which is good, but this is now buying time for your opponent to heal herself and renew her own assault. And quite simply put, that just won't do.

You holster your handgun, and then reach behind you to a wide, padded case on your supply-belt. You withdraw from it one grenade, cousins to the pair you gave to the technician girl. It is time, you surmise, to bomb through this nonsense.

Now, were you anyone or anything else, grenades might be something of a problem for you in this situation. The goddess is too far away for anything thrown by you to hit her or be anywhere really near her. After all, your throwing arm is not the best; you never spent much time throwing things to or at other people while alive, and not much more after being dead.

...Not, that is, with your hands.

But blessed be whatever powers above, pranksters below, or mortal circumstances in between that determined you should be doomed to walk the earth as a poltergeist. Who needs hands when you have telekinesis with which to instill great terror upon the living (dont get me wrong hands are great)?

They might say you're doomed to roam the earth, restless and unhappy, but you've been more alive while dead than you ever were while drawing breath.

With a smile, you lob the grenade into the air, and guide it through the oncoming colorful bullets. It's so much easier when it's something so small, after all.

It quickly makes its way through, and comes out into the large patch of empty space between the end of her current wave and she herself. With a -ping!- the pin is released, and the lever pops off. The now-armed explosive device hurtles on towards the goddess.

But alas, goddess-kibble is not on the menu today (i want to rob that stagecoach just to say i did it), for she notices it shortly thereafter, perhaps noticing the little dark green blob amidst the broad field of bright color. Her eyes fly open wide, and the pattern immediately dissipates as she breaks off of spellcasting to fly away as fast as possible.

She gets safely away in time, sadly. Multiple fragments of shrapnel wing their way towards you, but they are batted aside before they can touch you. Maybe next time, then~

Before resuming chase, you look back down at the red-headed youkai. Yes, she definitely seems better, oddly. She's sitting up, and does not appear to be bleeding profusely from any large holes. There seems to be an absence of such grievous bodily ventilation, in fact. How curious.

Your eyebrows lift in mild amazement as you carry on. Such rapid healing is unheard of for most youkai. Perhaps there's more to her than meets the eye? Probably. This is Gensokyo, after all.

Racing through the lingering smoke-cloud, you burst through it trailing streamers of dust and soot. On emerging from it, you notice that you're right near the shrine; perhaps a hundred feet away from the front door. You really have been pushing them back, haven't you? Good show~

Something Kabuki-colored goes flying through the air from above you, and smashes into the back of the shrine with a loud crash and much destruction of architecture. You try to get a look, but a danmaku bullet zips by your face.

"Hey, bullet bitch! Eyes over here."

You look off to the side, where a smirking earth god is looking back. She still winces in discomfort when she moves, but she isn't fervently clutching a bleeding stomach anymore. The damage has been mostly undone, it seems. But not entirely.

"Goodness gracious, my dear," you exclaim, pressing a hand to your chest. "That was quite a terrific bang, was it not?"

"Ehh. I've banged better," she says, giving an insolent shrug. "This was kind of a small bang, really. It made a lot of noise though. Kinda like you, huh?" She digs a pinky into her ear, cleaning it out in a most vulgar manner.

"You are unhurt, then," you say, with a disappointed tone. "I see. What a shame you did not stay catch it in full. It was so very close..."

She examines her finger, flicks off whatever crudeness was on it, and wipes it clean (trade one kind of filth for another) on her blood-soaked shirt. Looking back up at you, she gives a smug grin, and places her arms straight out from her sides. Casting circles begin to materialize by either hand, glowing faintly.

"Well, they say 'close' only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, you know?" She chuckles unpleasantly. "We've played with the latter..."

The casting circles disappear, to be replaced by three large, bright rings, arrayed within one another in concentric circles.

"...So let's play with mine!" With that, she flings one of the triplets of glowing bands up into the air, and hurls the other handful down at the ground.

"Those are not horseshoes, however," you say, pointing out the error in her admittedly (the hell ill tell her it was funny though) clever taunt.

"Horseshoes, ring toss, it works about the same."

To which you don't really bother saying that it doesn't seem to be working at all. ...In fact, there seemed to be no point to that little display whatsoever. And that is what strikes you as suddenly unsettling.

You look at her for some glimpse of what she's thinking. Nothing but smug victory, as if that was all she needed to do..."

Acting on a sudden impulse borne of dread, you fling yourself to the side just in time to avoid being sheared in half by one of the sets of rings, rocketing up from below. It seems to have shed a ring while it was down there, but of more importance to you is how it neatly slices off a large portion of your dress (good god now it looks like some kind of she-spaniards dancing skirt) as well as shaves off the bottom of your satchel containing all the spare ammunition.

So caught up are you in your rage, shock, and loss, watching the rain of your precious, coveted black boxes, brass cartridges, and red shells as they fall down, down below, scattered hither and yon amongst the shrine grounds, that you barely bother to turn aside, and dodge the ring that was sent upwards, having no doubt rebounded off the barrier mentioned earlier.

Your mind is still trying to cope with the loss, and your mouth struggles to form words.

"That... you. You. You...!"

Incoherent verbal fumbling gives way, as you whirl upon her, to a sudden, vicious, vitriolic, and elaborate stream of colorful invective that you unleash upon the goddess.

"...You rotten, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, faceless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of MONKEY SHIT!" you scream at the vile little wretch, voice rising along with your skyrocketing ire.

It is fortunate that you do not need to breathe, or else your lungs would be frightfully sore about now.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TIME AND MONEY THAT COST ME?!"

Her only response is to laugh uproariously as she continues to create and sling away more and more of those thrice-bedamned rings.

[ ] fgsfds
[ ] My pain is constant and sharp
>[ ] Keep laughing, I'm reloading ...Oh, wait.

________________________________________________________________________________

I love that last picture, probably because of Dem Legs.

is Miracle Hinacle (Besides a tendency towards lateral movement over rotational)?

>>115117
As was I. Well done, and thank you.

X X X X X X X X X X
On adjusting the angle of patterns:

I've been slightly bothered on occasion, by the disbelief-suspension-ruining realization that spellcards are fought as though in a 2-dimensional environment when in reality it's a 3-dimensional one. The only two ways I can see this being at all realistically pulled off is if either the spellcard duel boundaries have a very low height limit (which seems stupid), or if it's as I've presented it, and attack patterns are constantly adjusted so that they are moving along the plane of the defender's position relative to the caster (hoping I used the right terms, here).
Also there is the case of when the defender is landbound, and cannot fly (like David vs. Marisa in Limited Adventures. I'd yell at Scorn to GET BACK TO WORK, NIGGER but I think his life was about to collapse around him or something, last time I heard). Then the defender has no choice but to move in only two dimensions (aside from ducking, rolling, jumping, climbing, etc.).

Was there ever any explanation for this? It makes me think of crappy 80s/early 90s sci-fi anime fleet battles which suffered from more or less the same thing.

>On a vaguely related note, what exactly is Miracle Hinacle?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbrsXpF2gC8
Say what you will about IOSYS, but it is extraordinarily difficult not to bob your head along with the chorus of this song.

>"...Why don't you have a seat?"
Suwako is her own Chris Hansen.

[X] fgsfds
Man, things are not going too fucking well. Has it been ten minutes yet?

[x] My pain is constant and sharp

[X] fgsfds

>>115127
That's not the flash, just the song. The flash is where the swaying Hina comes from.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTSQYv34ayM (warning: moebetus inducing)

[x] fgsfds

>>115113
[p]My pain is constant and sharp
It'd be nice to fuck this shit for god's sake, but we're supposed to be keeping them occupied until Karakasa and fruit are back on their feet! ...Might as well poke Suwako in the wounds a few times while we're here.
>>115097
>>115100
Here's an optimised version for you. I cut out every other (duplicated) frame and doubled the timings.

>>115131
Aaaand the other one.

Congratulations Fell. You are the first author I have ever witnessed to use first, second, AND third person perspective in a single story. That the story is super awesome is a happy bonus. Give yourself a pat on the back. You deserve it.

Also:
So... she knows she can just, like, pick them up, right?

>>115133
>pick them up
>angry goddess who she's just shot will obviously be polite enough to let her retrieve her ammunition without horribly beating her to death

[x] My pain is constant and sharp

Well that's unfortunate. In a game of frustration attrition, we've lost a little bit of the edge. However the angeldust beans seem to be working wonders. The narrative might not be flowing that way, but if we get a choice, we might consider giving one to Kana before she self-destructs, Kittan-style.

>>115131
>>115132
Ehhhh, still pretty bad. Probably me doing something wrong, and the actual video runs fine, so I guess its ok.
Thanks for the effort.

>(i was a tormented soul lingering on earth and all i got were jesus-egg-day danmaku in the face and this crappy t-shirt)!
Glorious.

[x] fgsfds

Been out and about too much today and at the Rainiers pre-season party, plus blearghed out from yesterday. Writing resumes tomorrow.

Sorry for the continued slowness.

>>115156
You consistently deliver high-quality updates of considerable length daily, sometimes more than once per day. You have earned the occasional break.

>>115135

Telekinesis?

[-] My pain is constant and sharp

>"...You rotten, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, faceless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of MONKEY SHIT!"
Impressive, she did that all from memory and even tweaked it to be gender-appropriate.
Hopefully there's some Tylenol in (what's left of) the shrine.

>I've been slightly bothered on occasion, by the disbelief-suspension-ruining realization that spellcards are fought as though in a 2-dimensional environment when in reality it's a 3-dimensional one.
Well, if you've got time to do a little YouTubing, here's at least one alternative interpretation:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2H8pL8gTXo

[+] fgsfds
fuck these gods
stomp on froggy
die, snakebitch

>>115186
>Ability: Power to fly through the sky

and, [x] fgsfds

3D Danmaku is fun~

[益] fgsfds

Very well, then. To hell with it all.

At various times and points in one's life, it may come to pass that some things become larger than other people. Right now those things are your current problems, i.e., a sudden dearth of the ammunition in which you had invested so much. All of said munitions are now scattered about the shrine grounds, adorning the dirt and cobbles like so much metal confetti (if the metal confetti is shrapnel then its not a waste).

To hell with rendering assistance.

To hell with buying time for recovery and retreat.

To hell with it all.

Revenge is now the order of the day. It will have to be unpleasant, painful, brutal, and above all, speedy revenge, as you are now limited to one last grenade and what your guns were currently loaded with— two shells in the shotgun, and the full magazine in your pistol. You had used up all the ammo in the small magazine of the rifle in your initial incapacitation of the girl-sized goddess (good thing i didnt shoot out the eyes on the hat for fun), but even then, it wouldn't work as well in this situation.

Time to get started.

There are several rings bouncing up and down, now, and it's getting harder and harder to dodge through them as the air gets thicker and thicker with the ricocheting rings of death. It appears that they shed a ring each time they bounce off the ground or the top of the dome-like barrier the air goddess says she created.

Unfortunately, with each ring they lose, they speed up.

Most fortunately for you, you have transcended the point traditionally known as "giving a fuck." There is blood to be spilled and it can't be yours; you only keep blood for effect; maintaining a relate-able visual analog for injury (but if this hits me itll cauterize just like the fire poker did back then no muss no fuss except for all that screaming).

Racing forward, you slalom through the rising and descending rings as though through some sort of pre-dawn mid-air slalom on the sky-slopes of Hell itself (why yes that is the silver medal i won for womens cross country deicide), red and golden glowing circles illuminating the grey air itself and the shrine grounds with weird, deep, dancing lights (like the walls in the basement when it was punishment time but daddy flew and now he cant touch me).

It is also time to make some light of your own.

As you pass by most of the outer, faster-bouncing single rings, you withdraw your pistol. The focus must still be completely on dodging and avoiding being touched. they are moving quite rapidly, and there is no time to waste or room for error (slow is dead is slowest of all and there is no moving again because ive had my second chance). Your dress takes a few more hits, but mostly minor. You're loathe to repeat your bout of foolish inattentiveness from earlier.

Once through the bright golden single rings, you are now in the middle of the slightly slower double rings. Focus on evasion is still a priority, but now you are keeping a firm eye on the cheerful child toward whom you draw ever nearer. She's grinning (wipe it off little whore), still.

She won't (cant) shut you up until you're dead and gone. Your current silence is only a brief, thoughtful pause in that metaphor.

The going is a little bit easier, but she's focusing on you as well, now. It will fail to save her (the only rope ill toss her is a noose).

You are through the double rings now, and in the space occupied mostly by slower triple rings. Now is the time (for killing and death and wonder and joy and satisfaction and sing a song of plenty) for action.

Bringing it up into a careful, practiced posture and grip, you quickly acquire your blonde target in the gun's sights, and proceed to open fire.

Her body jerks with every round that you put into it, but she maintains her spell. After the third shot, you break off, and dodges around incoming rings as well as the ones she is now flinging straight at you.

Not to be so easily deterred, you begin moving in an arc over her head, and resume firing.

The next three shots go—

and

something happens?

—but no, because they went nowhere (the hat opened up and ate them) or something. Perhaps they went wide (why aren't you listening it ate them you saw it), or maybe your aim was off (it wasnt you arent letting your mind believe it but i saw it because i am we am they am always here and knowing knowing knowing all you do see say hear smell taste touch think be).

Well, strange, unexplained flukes (fine fuck it keep pretending it never happened) are bound to occur, and that is why you continue to fire at her as you complete the arc, although in short one- or two-shot intervals, as the rings being thrown at you are coming straight for you, not just in your general direction, and evasion is a priority.

You pull back after a few of these, frowning. This isn't sustainable. You only have a handful of shots left, and the ring frequency is interrupting the beginning of any meaningful heavy barrage that would have a decent chance at breaking her concentration.

A different approach is needed, and you think you have something that might just do the trick.

You set yourself in a quick, rapid orbit around her. She has to constantly keep turning as well in order to keep up with you and keep throwing the damned rings your way.

Now, in the space of seconds between when it dawns on her that she should be firing ahead of you, you act.

Bringing your gun to bear once more, you take very, very careful aim, and begin firing anew. Not in rapid succession, but a steady, measured rhythm that wastes no time. You're not seeking to overwhelm all of her, just part of her.

In this case, her right arm.

You fire. Bicep. She winces, but keeps making and throwing.

You fire. A graze that misses her body but tears her sleeve apart and makes it easier to see what you should be shooting at inside that oversized shirt.

You fire. The elbow. She falters again, but still musters the energy to resume.

You fire. The elbow again; a little lower, now. She cries out, and grits her teeth.

You fire. The elbow, square on. The joint is blasted apart, and while her lower arm stays attached, it isn't moving anymore.

She screams in pain.

Now, only now, does she remember to shoot ahead. But it's too late (i fucking hate that song), because now you are moving straight towards her, not around her, as you move in for the kill. She is only able to throw half as many of those thrice-damned rings at you but it won't do her any good.

You're already in front of here, after all and this is very dangerous and she probably has more tricks up her sleeve but you don't care because you want to end this little shit's existence here and now for fucking ever once presuming to screw with you and you wont be able to take as long as you wanted to in dealing with her but thats all right because itll still be revenge and all will be right once more and you can see and think in the space between the seconds and you are here and she is here not two feet away and she isnt going to be able to react in time the dirty dirty little cunt but thats what you get when you fuck with motherfucking kana anaberal bitch so you put the gun up to her head and squeeze the trigger and it makes a satisfying

-click-

What?

No.

(that sound is the opposite of satisfying how could you ever mix them up)

There is a short period of near-silence.

-click-

This is not part of the plan, you think to yourself.

The child's eyes open from their squeezed-tight-shut state. They lift up, looking at the cold black metal pressed firmly against her forehead. She blinks once. Her left hand opens, then clenches a set of newly formed rings that come into being therein. Her terrified expression quickly turns ugly and gloating.

"Yeah," she says, cheerfully. "Yeah, I do feel pretty lucky. Punk." She adds that last with a snicker.

Your mouth sets in a firm, unamused line.

"Nobody fucking asked," you tell her, and yank the gun away. Flipping it over in a smooth, practiced movement, you pistol-whip her once, twice, thrice until the casting circles around her left arm and the ring in her hand fade away.

The goddess, bruised and battered, reels under the force of the assault but doesn't lose consciousness.

On the fourth swing, she snatches your arm before it can bring the gun down upon her again. Pulling on your wrist, she bends your arm back sharply, breaking the limb with such force that your knuckles knock against the side of your shoulder.

Such an injury, inflicted by the hand of a god, causes you no small amount of pain. It's made worse moments later by the kick delivered to the center of your chest that sends you tumbling downwards.

Like her before, you are able to come out of the fall before hitting the ground, but likewise, you are not in the finest of shape. Steps were immediately taken to repair the break, but it will be a good while before you can use that arm to do the knife trick without stabbing yourself.

The two of you hover over the shrine. The sky goddess can be seen in the back, looking through the wreckage in the rear for something.

"I suppose we should stop screwing around, shouldn't we?" asks the blonde goddess. She doesn't have a smile on her face or in her voice. It's rather likely that she's being serious with you. And about being serious, no less.

[ ] Recess is over
[ ] But I like playing on the swings

[ ] sand castle
[ ] shoreline

________________________________________________________________________________

Damn. Thread 1 is almost about to fall off the board (second thread from the bottom, on page 9), and is only 1 post over the autosage limit. I'd kind of hoped to finish this story with all threads still on the board, and was strongly considering deleting a pair of pointless short-reply posts I'd made, and then bumping it myself just to gain a little more breathing room so I could accomplish that goal.
...But it appears I hadn't mastered the fine art of 'using a custom dammit password,' back then. It's a little disappointing, but them's the breaks.

Anyway, I'll hopefully get started writing sooner, tomorrow. Get those votes in.

Also: School starts on the 29th, and while I don't think I'll be done before then, I will have a few hours on the bus going to and from, as well as some downtime between classes. This story will probably be done before we get too far into April.

>>115186
That was pretty cool. And yeah, that's been more or less the sort of approach I've been taking (Adjusting the patterns for a 3D environment), except for those with which it just doesn't work (Like Suwako's 7&7). Although admittedly I don't have much in the way of sound effects or a soundtrack. Lots of tracks on the Bubblegum Crisis 2040 OST (OSTs? I think there were two.) work great for melee combat, though.

[ ] Recess is over
[ ] shoreline

[x] Recess is over
[x] shoreline

[x] Recess is over
[x] shoreline

[x] Recess is over

But playtime is not.

She doesn't have to get it, but a poltergeist is always playing around.

Once you even admit the poltergeist is on scene, she's already fucking with you, and it's far too late to check drug-spirit interactions, because you are already careening down the rabbit hole.

Poltergeist doesn't play by 'fear' rules like youkai, or by 'worship' rules like gods. Poltergeists play with you and the acknowledgment already vindicates the existence.

[x] shoreline

If only because castles made of sand slips into the sea eventually.

[x] Recess is over
[x] shoreline

[x] Recess is over

[X] But I like playing on the swings
Whee~

[X] shoreline

[Я] Recess is over
[¡] shoreline

You (we i they)—

Yes? Yes.

—are doing that already. You were all along. Why wouldn't you be serious? What a bitch. "Been there, done that. Doing that. What the hell's the hold-up on your end?" you call to her.

Much impatient you are now and tap-tap-tap-I'm-waiting.

She grins weird and creepy-like, and smirks a smug little smile. It makes her look godawful when she tries to be haughty. What the hell is she doing that for? Goddamn.

"Just taking my time, you know? Can't rush a girl like that~"

Jesus, what a pain in the ass. Holstering your pistol, you get ready to move the hell out of the way of whatever absurd shit the brat's about to cook up and unleash on you. If her blathering isn't more bluffing, then whatever comes next is indeed likely going to be painful.

She holds out her arms to either side, and spreads her legs apart. Is she going to do some sort of mid-air jumping jacks demonstration? No, that's a fucking stupid idea, you chide yourself. 'Midair jumping jacks.' God, you're stupid sometimes (it hates itself and i and all all all).

Casting circles form over the end of each limb, and a moment later, they erupt in a blazing torrent of energy. Thick, powerful beams of bright, destructive light or electricity or combustible pixie dust for all you fucking know pour forth, manifesting in a red pair from her hands and a green pair from her legs.

"HOW D'YOU LIKE ME NOW, HUH?!" she yells triumphantly, and twirls about like a retarded ballerina.

It's very strange. The energy seems to be ignoring all conventional physical laws, as the flow ends about twenty feet from each hand, sort of fading off and away. Perhaps it is not a beam of energy, then, but something more akin to jets of tight, condensed flame?

Fascinating.

(enough of the lecture professor science)

It becomes slightly less fascinating and more infuriating when the little shit starts swinging them in your direction, though. You want no part of you to become part of that. The monster is probably riddled with disease anyway. 'Sorry, Kana can't play at tonight's show because she's got the clap. From a god.' Your skin crawls at the thought. Missing a tour date?

Unacfuckingceptable.

Twirling away from the red jet/beam/something swung your way, you review your options, and they look pretty goddamn grim. Two shells and a grenade— one close-up weapon and one thing she could turn to slag and prematurely detonate. That's ... that's just fucking great. Goddamn.

You're forced to go on the defensive now as she pursues you, floating along and taking swings at you. It's like some kind of kung fu match from hell, and the second you stop jerking about like a lab rat on crank is the second you bite the fucking dust.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She continues to chase you in a circle around the shrine, laughing her ass off. It's the laughter of the damned, to my ears. You manage to find a good hiding spot for a second, allowing you to catch your br— Well, you don't breathe, of course. You're better than that. Way better. But figuratively, it still applies.

Okay, what do you have that could possibl—

And then the rain of nasty blue fiery bits starts to rain down nearby, and getting less by and more near. Way more near than is comfortable.

Great. Just... great. Because really, this was what you needed. More goddamned shit to hurry you along! Like you didn't already have enough fucking problems?!

As you scramble out of your hiding spot in one corner of the outside of the building, she spots you and gives a happy cheer. The periodic waves of blue fiery balls begin to patter down around you, now.

No. No, goddammit you will not be done in by this little cunt. What the fuck kind of ghost dies this easy? ...Okay, this wasn't easy. The Easter colored crap, that was easy. This is just downright malicious.

You dash to the side to avoid two, three, and four healthy swipes from those jets of red and green flame. They scorch the cobbles and the ground where they sweep along the surface, and yet nothing is catching on fire. The moronic, giddy-on-fear thought strikes you that it's probably too hot to set things on fire before they disappear or melt.

Right, no.

Neverthe fuckfuckfuckfuck TOO CLOSE less, something goddammit needs to be done about the little tart.

Stick the tart in an oven and set for 350 degrees Fuckyourenheit. Maybe 450. Cook until black-grey and charred.

Too bad you don't have an oven that big.

Okay, this is making you more and more of an idiot, all this running. Flying. Not fucking her up good and proper.

Something must be done.

You look around at the wreckage and the rubble and the whole of the shrine grounds which is slowly but surely turning into a warzone. If only you could use all this shit lying around in smoking, splintered heaps as ammo, then you'd be set.

Wait.

Holy fuck.

You feel at once like a genius and like a goddamn nimrod.

(More to come tomorrow.)

________________________________________________________________________________

I wanted to write more, dammit. Unfortunately I didn't get started at ALL when I should have. Not even close. I have got to fix my sleeping.

beaut. I've got roughly 320 pellets in total so far (100 in the hopper, 100 from the normal Red Ryder, 100 from somewhere else I can't recall, and 20 nicked from Razlo's shelves), but I worry about these sorts of things.

Oh... this is going to get interesting: Why use bullets when you can use giant pieces of stone.

>>115252
Because stone is earth, and the one you're fighting against has control over that. Plus a thrown stone moves a lot slower than a bullet shot.

It would be a viable option against 'Rope-Fiend' however. 'No matter how much the wind howls, mountain will not bow to it.'

I'd say that throwing stones at an earth-goddess is better then glaring at her and hoping she dies of mortification.

>"HOW D'YOU LIKE ME NOW, HUH?!"
Sorry, you're not the President of these great United States of America!

I wish that game had been released here.

>>115253

Bullets are made of lead, which is probably in her domain anyway. Just because you can control something doesn't mean it wont turn you into swiss cheese or smash you like a grape.

>>115244
BB ammunition is fairly rare. But better to use'em and run out after watch the brains fly rather than let em sit in your backpack until you're heading back to Vault 13 already. (This is assuming you've got the DECENT BB gun, of course. 320 bullets if you've got the right feats to get critical eyeball shots should often mean something on the lines of 280 killshots.)
http://fallout.wikia.com/wiki/Red_Ryder_LE_BB_Gun states that you can occasionally buy some ammo in Old Town in the Hub.

>>115266

Kana-ko?

>>115253
I don't think Suwako could stop a piece of rock flying towards her, though she could fashion up a spike from the ground. And who said Kana threw the grenade with her full telekinetic might? She was trying to have it make it to Suwako and blow up, not bounce off.

>>115260
So true, and the look on Suwako's face as she sees a giant block head towards her would be priceless.

>>115267
WHOOPS! That was a pretty epic fail on my part.

Of course. Damn, why didn't... No, no sense in beating yourself up further. Save it for later when you deserve it because knowing you, sooner or later you will (no good very bad). For now, there is pain to be inflicted upon others.

Now, how to go about doing this? You're currently on the side of the shrine's main building, and the damage here is almost nonexistent. Nothing to use unless you start uprooting things or breaking parts off, but that's time and effort wasted, and you can't afford to (life is time is money). It's all around the shrine, but none of it is in very close proximity.

You feint left, then dash right, and avoid two of those sweeping green jets as she kicks at you. Fucking hell, those things are hot. You could feel the heat from them, uncomfortably so (what was once uncomfortable is now tolerable but even so evenin' sew), despite that being one of her wider misses.

Okay, okay. This is simple. Dangerous, but simple. But it's easy. Same fucking thing. Dammit. Focus! Oh hell, now you're panicking again. Thoughts chopping up. Stop, think. Thiiiink. Yes.

Okay.

Pursued by the floating girl with the Hands (and feet) of Fate, you wait for just a second too long in one spot, up against a section of wall. You make it look like you're tiring, getting weak. Run down, worn out...

Ha. As fucking if. You're too good for fatigue.

The goddess takes the bait, and lunges at you. With a fierce burst of speed, you dash straight ahead, then immediately bank left, and keep going.

She swings the red jets at where you'd been, smashing apart the wall as she scorches two long black holes into it. Seeing that you've gone under her, she breaks off, and tries kicking at you. But because of the second sudden course change, you're safely out of the way, and now. Bitch can't hit what a bitch can't see.

The ends of your hair getting singed by the heat force you to begrudgingly admit that twenty-foot gouts of superheated bullshit do admittedly make easier the task of hitting what you can't see. Figures that she'd have an out.

But that's not really important anymore, because now you have things with which to smack her around. None of it will be good enough for her; nothing's too good for her. But this is what you have, and so you make do.

You stay on the move, just to make sure she doesn't figure out what you're doing. It won't take long, but you don't want to tip her off like she stupidly (for her but good for you) tipped you off with those fucking rings that spilled all your hard-earned ammo all over the—

No, no. Calm down... Murder later, assault now (revenge, gazpacho and pizza).

It goes off beautifully.

Shards of timber, rocks, a table, other things from inside, and a shrub tremble on the ground, and then rocket towards the unsuspecting little brat's back. You're unable to help but grin for a moment anyway, right before they hit.

She gets a funny look on that stupid face of hers, just as the wreckage impacts. Whirling about in a cloud around her, they zip around, darting in and slamming into her, clipping her on the side, flying round her, knocking her about.... it's perfect. She screeches in surprise at first, then begins getting panicked at finding this localized shitstorm that has a grudge for her. She screams at you angrily a few times, and manages to incinerate or vaporize most of the things before one particularly heavy piece of wood pops her on the temple.

It's only for a couple of seconds, but it's long enough. The bright, searing jets of flame flicker and then disappear. You don't see any reason to let up, though. This is only the beginning of payba—

WHAM

And then a fucking truck or something hits you. That's what it feels like, anyway, as the ground rushes up to meet you. Not in a figurative sense, either: the ground in front of you rips free from its position in... well, in the fucking ground, and slams into you.

Goddamn, but it hurts. You can vaguely hear the clatter of the remaining junk you'd sent her way as it falls to the ground. You realize that this is sort of bad, and you hope that you can see straight in time to fight off her next round of bullshit, but the thought that runs through your mind is a strangely cheerful one: she used your tactics. Sure, it could have been from the "I'll fucking show you" school of thought on revenge, but that's no reason to taint this moral victory.

Shaking the dirt off, and brushing your clothes clean, you stand up, facing the goddess with a grin. "Cheeky" is the word they like to use for this sort of smile, isn't it? If not, it is now.

She smiles back, but it's the tight-lipped sort of smile worn by an unamused supervisor catching his workers screwing around. You hate that kind of smile. Fucking management types. Pricks, the lot of them.

"So," she begins. "Short range is no good, huh? Well, then let's try a little bit of long range, then." She pauses, as if something just occurred to her. "...Hey. You like long range, don't you? Yeah. Pretty good with that rifle, weren't you?"

Her face loses all traces of amusement whatsoever. "...Bitch."

Her hand lifts up, and she points a finger at you, as if aiming an imaginary gun. Given the casting circle forming about it, you figure that there's a chance that isn't too far off (dont get your gun). "I'll give you an eight-second head start," she says, and the god's grin comes back, vicious.

"Bang."

You fling yourself to the side purely on instinct, and just barely miss being shot by some bright, frantically pulsing red spark. It leaves behind a trail of stationary danmaku in its wake, and already you are not looking forward to this. She's shooting crap at you, now (my baby ain't shooting me down tonight thanks)?

The spark curves about, and races straight at you again.

Ah. That was only one stage of trying to maim/kill/incinerate you. She's not just shooting things, she's shooting a fucking homing missile. Fucking wonderful! You flit outwards, away from the spark, and it zips past you, making a tight arc as it curves around to follow you.

"What the hell kind of eight-second head start is this?!" you shout to her.

"Don't stop moving~" she sings back. Bitch.

Risking a quick glance around, you see that it's continuing to lay down that trail wherever it goes (squeeeeeze that pressure on it). This... this is a pretty nasty trick, you have to admit. You're being forced to run around quickly as well as being made to watch where you're going, and able to move less and less. This is going to get ugly, and fast.

You rack your brain for something as you keep flying around in circles, trying to think of something good, but your attention keeps getting drawn back to careful evasion of the already-established trails. Something with the grenade (big big bang itty bitty bitch), yes. Yes. Make the stupid little rat suck down that shrapnel like a goddamn milkshake. Like a milkshake where you make that fucking annoying loud noise as you clean up the very last dregs around the bottom, sucking on the straw, pissing everyone around them off (i will grow rich and buy a restaurant and every seat will be spring loaded to throw your ass out if i hate you). Worthless little bastard children. All of them.

Well, you reflect in a brief moment of clear thought, there's always just dropping it on her (grenadedrops keep fallin on my head). This strikes you as such a brilliant and simple solution that it takes a moment for the explosions to register.

Wait. Explosions?

As you watch, the trail of stationary danmaku suddenly turns a pale, sickly whitish color, and then bursts apart in an explosion.

"What the hell?" you say. "It explodes."

The turning whiteness follows from where it started, near her, and seems to be following the path the spark took as it followed you around. Correction, is still following you.

"It explodes," you say again, as if trying to come to terms with a difficult concept that you are also beginning to grow angry at.

The path you are taking is growing tighter and tight, and now features several irregular jerks and jags as you have to curve away or dodge an exploding trail across your path.

"It explodes," you say again. Unable to hold it in anymore, you scream in rage and confusion to the world aloud: "WHY DOES IT FUCKING EXPLODE?!"

Somewhere in the middle of this growing network of red lines, you hear her laughing nastily (i will play the cider jug with your vocal cords when this is through little god).

All right, fuck this. It's time for Executive Order 67, because that happens to be the number on the side of the grenade.

Curving back in, you quickly locate her. Reaching back into the cushioned back pouch, you pull out the last deadly little egg, and wait until you're flying just above her. The height is about right, and even if the timing is off, she'll still be caught in it.

It's a simple goddamn plan. More simple than this bastard bloody spark which continues to hound your poltergeisty ass, but just as deadly.

You pass overhead, pop out the pin, and drop it on her. She doesn't seem to notice, being all to happy to let the spark take you down, which it's getting worryingly closer and closer to doing. Putting in an extra burst of speed, you gain some distance from the trailblazing spark, and make a wide, banking turn. You want to watch the little bitch blow into pieces. You've been through enough; you deserve it.

The goddess is still blissfully unaware, and your lips curl into a triumphant grin as it plummets closer to her.

And then it drops by a trail of danmaku just as it turns pale, hideous off-white, much too far away from her.

The grin vanishes to be replaced by a look of horror, then panic, then absolute rage as the exploding danmaku prematurely detonates the grenade, well above her head.

She jerks up, and flings out a hand as if to shield herself. The air about five feet in front of her hand suddenly grows dark, and flickery in a large, wide patch. She snorts in amusement, then looks about for you. Nodding to herself, her had swings around, bringing the dark patch with it.

Wait, isn't that— Oh, goddammit.

The flickering dark patch condenses into a tight cylinder, and you can see her giving you an ugly grin once more as that hand flicks outwards.

Hauling serious ass, you escape with only the back of the hem of your dark dress being torn to tatters as the accelerated blast of intercepted and collected shrapnel rips through the space where you'd been a moment ago (this poor dress is suffering so much).

"And juuuuust for that," calls out the god, "I'm going to kick it up a notch~" She points at you, and says with obvious relish: "Bam."

Another spark blasts forth from her finger.

This. This. This this this this fucking fucking this was not what you fucking needed. No it was not. You whip and dodge between lines and trails of red, now outrunning two separate burning sparks, each one coming from different trajectories. The first one handled corners not so well, but was lightning on a straightaway. This second one seems to handle corners on a goddamn dime. It hits straight lines slow at first, but gains speed as it moves further along.

Both of them are in very fucking real danger of becoming a terrible pain in the ass in an unpleasant sense.

Over a red line, and under another. Weaving in and out between another set, then another. Avoiding the whitening lines like the plague. You can't keep this up. Sooner or later you will slip up, and you're not nearly close enough to get her with the shotgun.

You are very, very, fucked.

Dodging left, you find yourself in a tight cluster of lines. The sparks are about three seconds behind you. And, you notice, one of the lines of the cluster is quickly turning that hateful, wretched shade of white.

Well, this is it. Time to move on, it seems. Go to that Big Stage in the Sky.

Or... wait.

Shit, hold on. You haven't been laid to rest. A god is going to kill your... your you! You! That isn't going to leave fucking anything at all behind! Fucking fucking fucking fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

YOU
ARE
GOING
TO DIE
F O R E V E R.

This isn't quite how you wanted it to end.

Everything turns loud and white and you feel yourself flying through the sky.

and then nothing

at

all
























...

...Wait.

Your bits are all still here.

Some of them are on fire, but not very badly.

And somebody is holding you close.

"Wuhh?" you ask, dazedly.

A mane of red hair (my wiiiiiild iiiiiirish roooooose) brushes across your face as you look up, blinking.

_________________________________________________________________

(More tomorrow!)

>>115263
I swore I read that page before, but I never remembered seeing the bit about them being sold in Old Town. Thank you very much.
>koishiwhackreimu2.png
But isn't that Satori she's punching? The punchee has what sure look like third eye tubes.

>>115279
Certainly looks like it, but the detail's so bad that combined with the lines lends to that impression.

Orange comes to save the day!

inb4 Meiling

>>115293
Ya, that come to my mind the moment I pushed send. Can't think of any other remotely relevant touhous with long red hair.

>But isn't that Satori she's punching? The punchee has what sure look like third eye tubes.
Ah, whoops. I copied the file name without double-checking identities. That'll teach me to not proofread my hastily-cropped reaction images!

The red-haired youkai gets to her feet, assured that the earth goddess has her attention focused solely on the poltergeist. Patting her chest a few times, she nods. Everything seems to have fixed up fine. Limbs were already good before this. Everything checks out, then!

Looking back at where the two are fighting, her smile fades. That's an exceptionally dangerous pattern the ghost has gotten herself caught in, there... and it doesn't look like it's going to be getting any easier to deal with anytime soon. Her eyes follow the white lines, and plot a course for them.

...Oh. No, that's not good, either.

Picking up her staff, she presses from either end, somehow shortening the weapon until it is no longer than her arm. Picking it up by one of the brass knobs on the end, she hefts it at an angle, and looks back to where the fight is going on.

Right about... there. That should do it, yes?

Reaching back, she flings it with great force. The stubby weapon whirls off into the air, spinning like a disc. It begins to curve left, toward the pair in the sky.

She isn't standing around to watch it, though: the moment it leaves her hand, she takes off running at a furious sprint, eyes focused on the crazy web of red lines and explosions in the sky, and the woman inside them.

Once she's almost underneath her position, she leaps upwards, the jump turning into an accelerated linear flight, and snatches the ghost up in her arms. Once she's got ahold of her, the youkai adjusts her angle slightly, and flies through one of the wider gaps opened up by the exploding red trails.

Narrowly making it through, the explosions behind them buffet the pair slightly, but they come out relatively unharmed. The two sparks, however, immediately adjust their course and make a beeline for the youkai woman... or more specifically, her ghostly passenger.

The red-haired woman lands on the roof of the front of the shrine with a thud, dislodging several tiles, and kicks off, hopping onto the top of one of the red onbashira lining the walkway, and then jumps lightly down to the ground where she sets her cargo down. The sparks follow, doggedly pursuing their prey—

And then wink out at the same time that a distant clonk! can be just barely heard over the sounds of the last echoes of the explosions that have suddenly cut off.

The staff, having connected sharply with the side of the childlike god's head, bounces away at a different trajectory and angle; high, and arcing. The deity plummets to the ground like a rock, albeit a dazed and dizzy rock.

The red-haired woman simply smiles as the ghost looks up at her with wide eyes, and holds out a hand into the air, as if waiting to be called on. Her eyes are closed, and she seems to be counting down softly under her breath in Chinese. When she reaches yi, she holds her hand open. A second later, the staff slaps neatly back into it. Opening her eyes again, she re-extends the pole to its pre-flight length, and turns back to her audience of one.

The ghost is looking at her with wide eyes. "Damn. I hate to admit it," she says, which is an odd way to preface what comes next: "...but that was amazing."

The youkai breathes deeply, as if feeling more refreshed from the compliment alone. She winks at the other woman, and nods. "That's what I do," she tells her. "Now, shall we find some cover?"

Lots and lots of black.

Lots and lots of ouch.

Lots and lots of explosions.

Lots and lots of aching.

I squeeze and tense various parts of my body to make sure they still exist and are unbroken. ...Yes, everything seems to check out. Banged up and bruised, but most of those are only sort of vague echoes. Those bean things work a treat. Even the aches don't ache as much as aches incurred while being thrown through a building ought to ache.

I sit up, and open my eyes. More dull grey light. I've only been out a short bit, then. It isn't quite dawn, yet. Or at least the sun hasn't risen. That's dawn, right? Or is it more general?

I'll ask somebody later.

Right now I've— wow, no headache at all, either —got to get... something. God. Beating-administration. Yes, that's what I was doing. Or trying to do.

I slip on a loose timber, and go sliding a short bit before regaining my balance. The loose piece of wood falls down away from the pile and clatters loudly against a tile floor.

...Shit.

And as if to give shape to my sudden, grave worry, War Mother pokes her head in through the hole I'd made in the ceiling. And the roof. Probably the attic, too.

"Oh, there you are," she says, and frowns. "And mobile, too. That's no good."

She holds out a hand, and clenches it into a fist.

And suddenly, painfully, I am on the ground and being crushed by the air itself. It's like being near a huge explosion, but not close enough to be in the fire, but enough to feel like somebody is pounding you with a mountain.

I am in great, great pain.

Much pain.

Two mountains, perhaps.

[ ] おどろけー
[ ] 鉄ㆍ人

________________________________________________________________________________

To those of you that know anything about cooking, I would happily appreciate any recipes/suggestions on marinades for a chuck steak. This request is open for the next day or so, but if you've got something good; sooner is better.

Could possibly update again today.

>鉄ㆍ人
...Hisou Tensoku?

[X] おどろけー
See >>115342 for details.

[ ] おどろけー

being the only one i can understand.... i vote this!

鉄 = iron
人 = man/person

This may lead somewhere interesting.

[x] 鉄ㆍ人

So how did Kanako solve the icing problem?

[x] 鉄ㆍ人

>>115368
What does it mean? Since it either means mudkips or Ookiedookie when I put it through Google translate. Yeah sure laugh, but I wanted to do something other than bandwagon.

>>115392
Put it into google instead.

[x] 鉄ㆍ人

>>115366
>I would happily appreciate any recipes/suggestions on marinades for a chuck steak.
This is all from memory, as such I apologize for the lack of measurements.

Ingredients:
Fresh clove garlic
Rosemary
Ground black pepper / mixed peppercorn
Olive oil (normal or extra virgin)
Red wine of choice

3-5 hours before cooking:
-On a casserole dish, plate with raised edges, or any other object that can hold your stakes and a thin layer of fluid and can fit in your fridge:

1) Place steaks flat and brush lightly with olive oil
2) Sprinkle steak with pepper, crush rosemary by hand and sprinkle steak lightly
3) Flip steaks over and repeat 1-2
4) Chop garlic cloves into chunks no longer than the thickness of your steaks
5) Make several small, regularly spaced incisions in each steak, insert garlic cloves
6) Lightly drizzle red wine over steaks. They should be moist but not standing in more than a few millimeters of liquid
7) Cover in plastic or ceran wrap. It should be tightly sealed around each individual steak, but not such much as to squeeze them
8) Place in fridge and let marinate for 3-5 hours (5 recommended)
9) When ready, grill or broil to desired level.
Medium-rare to medium is my preference

A simple recipe, but it makes good use of the steaks' natural flavor, and the extended marinating will make even an average or sub-par cut come out exceedingly tender. Serve with salad of choice and some type of bread side.

I'd recommend bruschetta (google and pick any recipe), as it's colorful, quick and easy to make, and will use up any leftover garlic.

Alternatively, use this variant, as it's even faster and uses nothing not already needed for the steaks:

1) Take a baguette or Italian bread and cut on diagonal into ~1/2 thick slices
2) Brush one side lightly with olive oil
3) Crush garlic and smear onto bread
4) Sprinkle lightly with rosemary

Bake 3-6 minutes at 400-450°F. This tends to vary widely among ovens, so watch carefully so as not to burn, or better yet, use a toaster oven on a low setting.

[x] 鉄ㆍ人

>>115414
Actually, it's for a course of action.

>>115420
...Well then.

Consider my vote (>>115415) changed to
[x] おどろけー

>>115415
Oh, damn.
Um.
Thank you so very much, that's... wow. That is above and beyond the call of duty, and so it makes me feel horrible to say this next thing:

This isn't for grilling or eating alone. The steak is going to be chopped up into small pieces and soaked in the marinade for when I make yakisoba (or the closest approximation I can make of it) on Friday. I just really like to have the meat have a decent flavor to it, since my home-made seasoning mix doesn't provide enough oomph on its own.

I am really a very unskilled cook.

I'm guessing surprise power is the first and I guess powering through it/IRON HEART SURGE/??? is the second.

>>115415
Suddenly, flashbacks to Skittles and its cooking interludes! ;_;

>>115435
My suggestion: http://www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,1626,151170-225203,00.html . (Just the marinade, naturally.) You can Google a substitute for hoisin sauce if you need to, but I live in the middle of nowhere and my supermarket stocks it, so I'll bet yours does too.

[x] おどろけー

>>115435
In that case, perhaps some teriyaki seasoning would help. Experiment with the sauce until it tastes good; take notes, just in case of success.

>[] おどろけー
"Surprise", in the imperative tone.

>[] 鉄ㆍ人
"Iron Man", with the dot between them signifying that this should be read as if it were a Western name.

Speculation follows:
Surprise option = try to trick your way out of Kanako's clutches somehow.
"Iron Man" = Tough it out until Orange comes a-running.

[+] おどろけー

[x] おどろけー

[x] 鉄ㆍ人

[X] おどろけー

>>115415
>>115435
>The steak is going to be chopped up into small pieces and soaked in the marinade for when I make yakisoba
In that case, substitute the red wine for a mixture of rice wine and low-sodium soy sauce (or regular if you really like your salt). Much like the link >>115445 gave, actually. Either recipe should work fine for marinating the steaks for this, although one hour seems a bit short, unless the cut you have is extremely tender to begin with.

Edit: Forgot to mention you should probably use a bit of basil and/or cilantro instead of rosemary. They'll mesh a bit better with the yakisoba.

FOR THOSE ABOUT TO COOK

WEEE SAAALUUUUTE YOOOOU

>All right, fuck this. It's time for Executive Order 67, because that happens to be the number on the side of the grenade.

I think this is the most brilliant line I've heard from Kana. Fell you took a PC-98 character this Anon had no strong feelings about and made him pump his fist for her. Congratulations.

[x] 鉄ㆍ人

ALLEZ CUISINE

[ټ] おどろけー

Possibly even three.

The crushing weight upon me is intense, and my

everything

hurts.

My limbs are pressed back tight against the rubble I'm on top of. My body itself is almost contoured to fit the debris beneath me. Things bend in ways they shouldn't bend, my teeth are starting to crack, my nose is fracturing, and I'm starting to lose my vision as my eyes are pressed against the back of their sockets.

Everything hurts a great, great deal, and it is only growing worse. I don't have much time at all. Perhaps a few more seconds?

I muster up some energy, which comes easily but can't go anywhere.

Nothing can move at all.

I can't even breathe, and my ribs are starting to crack.

I put that energy into the only outlet I have left: Spending a considerable amount, I feel the energy race off.

...I've never felt it move away, or even towards, before. Only when it comes in. Even then, it's only the sensation as it flows through me.

Seconds pass, and nothing happens.

I want to at least be able to breathe.

Another second passes, and there is a ringing sound as my eardrums rupture.

My chest feels so horrible.

I feel sick.

Death is near.

Death is here.

Then there is a loud sound I barely hear over the ringing, a whining noise, and

everything

stops

.

The youkai named Orange and the ghost named Kana dash around the back of the shrine, and duck into an alcove. The ghost does not look well, and she tenderly nurses her right arm as her material form slowly recomposes itself to an optimum, unbroken state. She would dematerialize, but her clothing, equipment, and bags would fall to a heap, and she'd never be able to put them all back on in time. And if she needed to drop her material form at all, then things were going to be going very badly, anyway, and it likely wouldn't much matter if she had them or not.

So she holds her arm carefully, preferring the slower method.

The taller woman looks back at the poltergeist. "Can you cover me?" she hisses quietly.

"What?" says the ghost, looking up. She isn't doing too well overall, either, and her focus tends to drift slightly if she isn't careful to watch herself.

"I'm going to jump her when she passes us," whispers the youkai. "Can you provide covering fire so she doesn't throw anything nasty my way?"

The poltergeist snorts. "Sure, if I had anything. I've only got my shotgun left, and shortened as it is, it kind of makes a terrible weapon at range. Besides, I've only got two fucking shells left. Hopsy McWhoresleeves cut my spare ammo satchel, so now I'm out of everything but that. If I had anything left in either of—"

She breaks off suddenly, as a look of great surprise comes over her, followed a split second later by hope. "Wait, shit! That's right, I nev—"

A hand presses suddenly to her mouth as the furious earth goddess flits by, looking around.

Her eyes roam over the shrine, hardening when they see and the wreckage. This is not going to be fun to explain to people, but it will be a walk in the park compared to eliminating these irate youkai. Still, she's upset and even a little sad to see her shrine in such a condition.

There will be time to bemoan this state of affairs later, though. For now, she has problems on her hand. People problems.

Where the hell could they be?

As if answering her unspoken question, a stone clattering behind her draws her attention, and she whips around. Sprinting toward her is that staff-wielding bitch with a grim look in her eyes.

How the fuck is she upright?

She reaches down to touch the ground, ready to call up some severe unpleasantness, when there is a loud gunshot immediately followed by the -pwang!- of a ricochet right by her hands. Fragments of stone and dirt sting her hands, which she yanks away reflexively.

There, a ways behind the onrushing youkai woman, is that gun freak in the dark dress, like some kind of dark-toned maid's uniform. She's braced against the wall of the shrine, holding a huge revolver in her hands, a wisp of smoke curling out of the barrel.

Where in fuck did that come from? Didn't she throw a fit about losing all her ammo?

She spits in disgust. Time to rejoin the melee, then. She reaches back behind her to the ground underfoot, and sinks her arm down into the earth, where she grabs her next weapon.

Everything stops.

The pressure... stops.

I feel light as a feather for a moment, after being relieved of that horrible weight. Everything starts to work again, and everything starts to fucking hurt. Not in intensity but in quantity: every fractured bone, every organ snapping back to life, every sensation from each piece of junk that I've been squeezed against; all of it floods my brain at once, and I moan softly.

I think I do. I can barely hear, but the ringinginginginging is slowly fading, along with all of the aches and pains. They aren't going away fast enough, though. Every step makes my entire frame hurt an unbelievable amount, in an extremely strange way. I'd heard of hurting in places one didn't know one had, but goddamn. I'd never really felt that until now.

My sight returns quickly, and I see why the pressure let up.

War Mother is doubled over, leaning against a broken support beam. She's making what I think are choking, gasping noises, and seems to be hacking up blood. The red liquid also seems to be seeping from where she clutches at her throat.

...So... maybe what I did worked, then? But I have no idea what happened. Something came by and punctured her throat?

I'm not going to complain.

But I will make the situation worse. And happily.

My feet seem able to hold me without causing undue stress or agony, so it's as good a time as any.

I run Oh fuck that hurts but keep moving, and hop from pile to pile until I'm in front of the sky goddess. Shoving her against the beam and pinning her there, I punch her in the throat, then again. She looks up in panic as I shove her, then her features contort in pain after the first blow; rage after the second.

A blood-soaked left hook knocks me spinning and knocks my jaw out of whack. That's fun. I bite off a scream of pain and pop it back into place.

This, too, hurts. But it's for the better.

Getting upright, I notice only now that I've still got my knife clutched in a solid deathgrip. My knuckles make a series of crackling sounds as I force the hand open, and re-sheathe the blade. Pity I didn't notice before I popped her in the throat. Carving out her windpipe might've set her back a bit more than blunt force trauma. But hey, I'm sure it felt pretty bad for her nonetheless, and that's what counts.

Looking around, I spot what looks like a mostly intact doorway leading back inside. I make my way over there as fast as I can. It's her home turf, sure, but I can only hope she'll be at a disadvantage fighting indoors. Closed spaces just don't seem like her friend, metaphorically or literally.

Three-quarters of the way there, I am yanked off my feet by the invisible hand of the wind, and drawn up into a small, localized twister that War Mother seems to have whipped up on the spot. She must be really, really pissed or really, really determined to have made this thing with no preparation whatsoever. I wasn't aware it was possible, but.... well.

She is a god.

I am whipped around and around in the cyclone. Boards, splinters, stones, glass, and metal all bang over and against me. After the third slice, I have enough presence of mind to curl up into a ball, or at least try. The howling wind makes it difficult to do much of anything at all, and thinking does not escape that list of things.

I try sneaking a peek, and immediately snap my eyes shut again as the roaring winds blow dust and grit into them. The stinging pain hurts like hell, but it's soothing compared to the battering I am receiving from the debris that whips about, over, and around me.

Over and over I tumble and spin in the raging miniature storm— Well. Miniature for a given value of miniature. It's only about as wide as the wrecked area of the shrine, so ...about a big bedroom or two across. But it's as big as it needs to be to severely wreck my shit, which it is doing a fine job of.

It stops.

I look out through tear-filled eyes, irritated by the dirt and grit, and see that we're above the wide stone pathways leading around the lake to some kind of smaller shrine on the other side.

And then we fall.

...And fall faster.

I can tell it's happening because of the cold air blowing furiously on me, and because I keep passing all the other crap that was caught up in the whirlwind along with me.

I do not relish the thought of becoming a smear on the ground, but that fate is rapidly approaching me.

i do not enjoy the idea either

it strikes me as rude and impolite

the very nerve of her

i'm of a mind to complain to her manager

that's going to be sort of tricky

well of course it is

lousy gods

such a pain, they are

but seriously, do you have any ideas?

i do, and they involve you and a bath

a what and a huh? but i'm not even dir—

here we go!

It is beautifully simple. I don't know if this is going to work.

But that is why I spend a little right as I hold my friend out, and have him stretch open and wide about a second or three before we hit the unforgiving stone path below.

With a loud whump as the wind blowing us down catches him, some strange angle or errant breeze catches him as well. The resulting flow yanks the two of us forcefully out of the air stream and sends us on a sideways trajectory as I clutch tightly to him, laughing like a gleeful maniac.

I suppose I probably am one at this point. It seemed like an interesting career move.

Going no less faster sideways then we were downward, thanks to the bizarre combination of air currents, we hit the lake, and bounce, like a skipping stone.

Bounce.

Wheeeeee~

Bounce.

This is sort of fun. Except we've slowed down, now, and I don't thi—

GLOONK.

Bath time.

[ ] milfoil
[ ] Polaris

The diminutive goddess whirls the glaive-like weapon around again, and brings it crashing down on the youkai, who blocks the heavy weapon just in time. Giving it a shove, she forces the red-haired woman back several steps.

The fight has not been going well. Despite her size, the goddess is rather skilled with her weapon, a guan dao she'd acquired a century or three ago. It was truly a well-crafted weapon, and it was serving her equally well now that it was finally seeing some practical use.

Orange, on the other hand, was getting a little worried. As if the nearby tornado wasn't enough, she had been reduced to mainly parrying and blocking at this point. Every time she tried to initiate an offensive strike, the god would see it coming and bat her blows away before bringing the polearm around and sending her back. It wasn't like she was being backed up against a wall, but... it wasn't looking good.

She has, nevertheless, been waiting.

Now was as good a time as any. The youkai prays that her support will be paying attention. Even if she doesn't know what she's about to do, simply covering her will suffice.

She fakes a stumble, and the earth goddess lunges for her, perhaps too angry or caught up to judge the likelihood of her losing footing on smooth cobbles. The blade of the weapon swings down her, and Orange jerks back, quickly.

Two gunshots come from the ghost's corner, thankfully. She was paying attention.

Both rounds bury themselves in the goddess' knee, causing her to shriek in pain and fall flat on her ass. The youkai leaps forward and smashes her twice across the chest with the staff in a quick, whiplike movement. She finishes it with a jab that crushes the god's arm under one of the heavy brass knobs, eliciting a scream of rage and pain.

The blonde goddess digs her hand into the ground and flings up a wall of earth between her and her immediate assailant. Orange backs off a short ways, wary of lingering around her defenses for too long. She turns to flash a grin and a wave of thanks to the poltergeist.

Kana raises her hand to wave back, but gets no further.

The little goddess, having finally had enough, makes good on her earlier threat of shutting the ghost up. The attack Orange was expecting to come from cover falls not upon her, but her ally.

Suwako's hand, nestled in the earth, bursts out of the ground behind the darkly-clothed woman. Recreated twenty-fold in size, composed of packed earth and rock, the replica of the earth god's fist crushes the singer beneath the force of a single, furious blow.

It rises again and falls.

And rises.

And falls.

She beats the ghost to a bloody, unmoving pulp. Every single one of her three strikes makes the ground shake violently with the sheer force of impact, felt even over where Orange stands looking on in surprised horror.

As quickly as it began, it ends, and the goddess withdraws her hand from the ground, causing the recreated fist to crumble apart over the poltergeist's still, motionless form. She disintegrates the earth wall she'd used to shield herself from the youkai, and stands up. The wounds in her knee are slowly healing up, but quick enough, after she'd expunged the bullets.

"So, now that that pesky interruption is gone, shall we resume?" she asks, catching the guan dao with a toe and kicking up the weapon back up into her hands. A large, vile smirk adorns her lips.

The red-haired youkai turns back, about to spit something hateful back at her in reply, but the words die on her lips. Beyond the goddess, she watches as her beloved is thrown over the lake. She bounces twice, then plunges into the frigid depths.

Her ally, who threw herself willingly into the fight.

Her beloved, who came seeking a reckoning.

Both brought low by the deities of the shrine.

Her body trembles in fury, and her hands dig into the shaft of the staff. Her fingernails begin to etch grooves in the metal pole as she clenches it.

The look of combined horror and fury on her face gives even the goddess pause.

Looking over her shoulder, Suwako sees the aftereffects of the other youkai's splashdown, rings of wavelets spreading outward from the point of entry.

She turns back, and sticks her her tongue out at the youkai woman. "We sunk your battleship," she says, and snickers.

Her amusement is cut short by an low, unearthly, rattling growl that she feels as much as she hears. It is almost as if Hell itself was clearing its throat; about to speak.

________________________________________________________________________________

(choices are in the previous post.)

>>115415
>>115445
>>115482
>>115514
I'm off to get started on the chopping and the prep work for tomorrow, now. Thank you one and all for the advice and contributions.

>>115526
Why, thank you. She's had better lines, though. The Barry Bonds story, for example.
But if you're taking a shining to her, then I strongly recommend checking out Border House in /others/, as things are taking a somewhat Kana-y direction there. Thread 1 ( >>/others/22621/ ) is unlabeled, but all the other threads have the title. Plus, like this story, each thread has a link to the next at the end.

>when there is a loud gunshot immediately followed by the -pwang!- of a ricochet right by her hands.
>Something came by and punctured her throat?
New theory: Kogasa was the person with the umbrella on the grassy knoll. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Warren Commission.

[X] Polaris

[x] milfoil

I think the choices are either to come up for air (Polaris) or to go down deeper (Milfoil)

[x] milfoil

Rub a dub dub~

[x] milfoil

Breathing is for pussies.

[ø] milfoil
fuck, I hope Kana isn't deader.

Well Kana got smushed like Grey Fox under the heel of Metal Gear Rex. And now Orange's love is dying again.

>Her amusement is cut short by an low, unearthly, rattling growl that she feels as much as she hears. It is almost as if Hell itself was clearing its throat; about to speak.

OK. Suwako's power meter just exploded.

I kind of want to read this battle as seen from outside its immediate participants.

Reimu with a pillow over her head, repeating endlessly, "Their shrine. Their money. Their problem."

Aya snapping photo after prize-winning photo.

Yukari voicing many a 'ara' in her pocket-dimension peephole.

Meiling visibly blanching as her sister releases her final form as seen from after.

[x] milfoil

Yeah, okay, Kogasa is the usual narrator, but if Orange wants to play the Big Goddamn Hero, I say let her.

Kogasa's personal revenge is against Sanae, and against that, this classic Good versus Evil stuff? It's amazing, but also not entirely relevant.

Which isn't to say I want to skip any of what happens. God, no. Just that Kogasa can spend a few more minutes underwater while Moriya shrine is razed to its foundations.

Orange going overboard is less likely to upset the status quo, because everyone will be like 'woah' at first, but in the end they'll decide to stick to their own business. It's like if Yuka decided to go on a hike and then carved out a hole in the mountain because there was a shrine in her way. Nobody blames anybody, because that's 'act of God' type shit. Now if a simple youkai like Kogasa were the cause, the faithful of the shrine might seek vengeance. In fact, it would probably come off as some kind of youkai terrorism, and a threat to the established order that can be stamped out.

>>115561
That interpretation of the choices makes zero sense whatsoever.

Milfoil is a plant that floats on the water (lurk quietly).

I'm assuming that Polaris is capitalized because it refers to Polaris-class missiles, which were a type of submarine-launched nuclear missile (Blast out of the water and wreck Kanako's shit).

[x] Polaris

I want to see her go nuts on Kanako.

You guys can vote for your milfoil thing, but it's not very smart even if the "go deeper" version IS right: Kanako is a god of lakes and sky, yeah? Trying to wait her out in her domain isn't a bright idea.

>>115575
>OK. Suwako's power meter just exploded.
I think that was Orange who was growling. It makes way more sense, especially with the rattle. Sort of reptilian, isn't it?

[x] Polaris

[x] Polaris

Went with >>115445 .

>>115582
~

> Kanako is a god of lakes and sky.

Since when? She's a sky god, not a lake god.

>>115589
>The Avatar of Mountains and Lakes
>Kanako Yasaka
Straight from MoF, baby.

[x] milfoil

[X] Polaris

>>115590

Straight from the Touhou Wiki:

> Name: 八坂　神奈子（やさか　かなこ）Kanako Yasaka

> Species: Goddess of wind and rain

> Abilities: The ability to create sky

Not lakes, rain, which falls from the sky. Kanako has no power over the lake. Kogasa is fine.

>>115598
Uh, >>115590 is straight from the Touhou Wiki, too. And "Avatar of Mountains and Lakes" is pretty non-negotiable.

Yes, she's wind and sky and rain as well, but you can't just pretend that other thing isn't there.

And besides, what the hell is she going to do in the lake? Nothing but wait to be picked off.

You want surprise, you blast out of the water and knock Kanako silly.

>>115598
>>115599
I think you're both neglecting a far more straightforward argument: "THP protagonist" and "lake" is, historically, not a good combination.

[x]Polaris
Damn the torpedoes.
[X] milfoil
I would normally advise caution, but it's a HOLY LAKE. Which equals quite possibly... wait, it really can't be worse than being squished again by Kanako outright after being rendered wholly unable to fight and springing back up JUST to get permanently killed. Changing vote.
Does the barrier even extend round the lake? If Orange has the good sense to realise this and Kogasa's got past the barrier they've got a chance to escape (How much does a ghost weigh, anyway?)
>>115600
First thing I thought of was {x}jumpinlake

>>115601
Yeah, and Kanako's a HOLY GOD. "Holy" isn't really doing that much for us at present. Besides, we're not going to win any fights by doing the backstroke in some pond while the RX-77 takes potshots at us.

>>115602
The aim isn't to win, it's to escape. Trying to beat up the gods has ALSO failed spectacularly. Is the forcefield around the lake as well? That might be a good way out (maybe? I don't know).

Look, we're outclassed, down one combatant, combat drugs are probably going to start flatlining us in about half a minute and going over the falls are a whole sight better than popping up while injured so Kanako can very definitively finish us off.

This is banking on a couple of things: One: The lake's NOT sealed off, and two: Orange knows we're still alive. Also Three: Fell sees this as an option, but eh.

[x] Polaris

I wonder how Orange's going to unleash hell on Kanako.

If the lake was outside the border, how did Kogasa get there in the first place? Also escaping does no good if Kogasa's alone.

[x] Polaris

Because I'm seeing nothing but downsides to the other option.

Calling it for the one I like better.

Writing sometime later today. Not likely soon.

Dammit, Fell, whenever I see Kanako I think "War Mother" now.

Why did you do this to me?

Far too much cooking.
A bit of drinking occurred.
No update this night.

New thread: >>115742

Would have posted a similar Hina picture, but I think I already used it.

>I think that was Orange who was growling. It makes way more sense, especially with the rattle. Sort of reptilian, isn't it?

What did you think I was talking about?