"I sent two full squads, along with the Inspector. They've been authorized to use lethal force if necessar—"
You interrupt her, playing to the crowd, "In fact I might just have a police scanner on my Pip-Boy! Let's all listen in on the chatter why don't we?"
You fiddle with the knob on your Pip-Boy praying that Daiyousei left the channel unblocked. Yes. You turn the volume up to the maximum. It comes through, but its very grainy--no, wait, that's the sound of gunfire and laser bolts in the background.
"...TEN-DOUBLE ZERO! TEN-TWENTY FOUR! ... did you get her"... no, she's... fuck!... I'm hit! I'm hit!... DISPATCH, WHERE THE HELL IS OUR BACKUP?" It's a fairy's voice, but not Dai's voice as you had expected.
You're startled by the sound of the Overseer speaking, not to you, but into her Pip-Boy, which your own is echoing, "Unit Respond, this is the Overseer. Put Inspector Kotohime on the line immediately."
After a moment of static and yelling in the background, "SORRY OVERSEER MA'AM, THIS IS OFFICER TABITHA. INSPECTOR KOTOHIME WAS TAKEN TO THE CLINIC."
"Say again, Officer."
Another pause. "THE INSPECTOR HAD TO BE REVIVED ON-SCENE AND TAKEN AWAY BY MEDIVAC DOLLS... THE DOOR WAS NOT RESPONDING TO THE USUAL OVERRIDE."
The Overseer smacks her forehead and runs her hands through her hair as the officer continues.
"...SO, WHEN SHE BANGED ON IT WITH HER NIGHTSTICK, IT SEEMED THE PERP HAD ALREADY ELECTRIFIED THE DOOR SOMEHOW."
"And the sergeants?" The Overseer's voice grows more incredulous.
"...UH, THE INSPECTOR HAD ORDERED SGT. FRISCA TO BED REST, SIR. SGT. TAKIKO WAS IN FIRST SQUAD." The transmission stops there with an of finality on the subject.
The Overseer seems to have come to some determination, though her expression remains grim. She focuses her attention away from you and your pistol, and toward operating her Pip-Boy, her eyes only flicking back for a second. Her Pip-Boy, what model it is you don't know, but it appears to be modified for data entry, since it has a keypad on it. "Officer Tabitha, you've been temporarily elevated to Level 7 Security Clearance. I am taking operational control. I want you to give me a full report on the situation thus far."
"...UH, IT'S BAD, MA'AM, REAL BAD. WE HAVE AT LEAST..." There's a pained cry in the background. "...TWELVE OFFICERS DOWN—GOD I THINK DIZ TOOK ONE IN THE FACEPLATE. DISPATCH SENT US BACKUP FROM CENTRAL BUT..." She's interrupted by the sound of a bullet ricocheting, then the sound of laser weapon fired twice in succession. "SORRY SIR, EXCHANGING FIRE... THEY HAVEN'T BEEN RESPONDING OVER THE RADIO... WE'VE HIT HER, BUT THE PERP IS WEARING SOME KIND OF BODY ARMOR UNDER HER JACKET, AND SEEMS TO BE RAPIDLY CURING HER WOUNDS EVEN AFTER WE SWITCHED OFF THE DANMAKU."
"Tabitha, how many of her people are with the perpetrator?"
"JUST THE ONE HOSTAGE MA'AM. FIRST SQUAD ID'D HER AS MARIBEL HAN, THE SHRINE MAIDEN."
"Why wasn't the presence of a VIP being held hostage relayed to me, officer?" The Overseer demands angrily, running her tongue over her teeth.
"...I'M-I'M SORRY MA'AM. WE'VE BEEN UNABLE TO REACH DISPATCH FOR SOME TIME NOW." The fairy voice buckles under the pressure. Is the Overseer really more terrifying than someone shooting at you?
"This place is falling down around me," the Overseer says to herself, massaging her temples. "Officer hold your position. I'm coming to deal with the problem myself. Overseer out."
"WILCO," the fairy responds, relieved.
"It looks like the only way to get things done around here really is to do them myself. You sir, are coming with me if I have to drag you by your hair. Otherwise, I won't be able to guarantee your girlfriend's safe—stop!"
The Overseer hold up a hand in protest, but it's too late. You've already pointed pulled the trigger in the direction of her and her floating ice cubes. She doesn't flinch, because your target was her crystals, one of which you hit. You can tell immediately because its bluish and partially translucent color turns orange, and since the limiter has been removed on the pistol, the longer you hold the trigger, the brighter the orange gets. A second or two more, and the shape starts to change, while the pistol starts beeping. The crystal is a near perfect sphere now; why hasn't it exploded?
"What are you shooting at?" The less than impressed ice fairy is staring at you with her hands on her hips.
"Your ice crystal. Soon it should explode into a thick mist that will facilitate my getaway," you answer truthfully, brow furrowed, the now perfect sphere still illuminated by your gun.
"Oh. Well, that won't happen."
"Why the hell not?" You ask, a little irate, as not only is your arm cramping, but the gun has started to warm.
"If it were normal ice, yes, it would probably explode dramatically when heated so rapidly, but naturally formed ice crystals are of the form Ice Ih—'h' for its hexagonal lattice—while this would be amorphous ice, or 'Ice Zero' as I call it. Really more of a state of supercooled, solid water, although perhaps it's not so solid anymore. Are you done yet?"
Solid water? You can work with that. "Not really," you retort grinning confidently, though it probably doesn't come out as anything other than idiocy, "Maybe when this gun explodes in my hand."
The fairy understandably shakes her head in exasperation. "If you hold that trigger any longer—"
The heat was already searing by then. You toss it up into the air while you still have a hand, and immediately begin conjuration somatics, channeling a fire spell through the overheated, steaming pistol: "Tell the story, morning glory! Serpentine Fire!" Your command words taking effect, the weapon freezes as it comes back down mid-tumble, encased in a red, translucent tetrahedron. Normally you wouldn't telegraph an attack so obviously to someone who is naturally proficient in Western magic like a fairy, but you need for her to think she can merely block the attack, rather than bothering to counterspell it. A large fireball with a long tail snakes out of the focus, hurdling toward the Overseer in a spiral, while the weapon, with its heat exhausted clatters to the floor.
"Absurd," the Overseer replies with a snort, easily swinging the ball of water around to interdict the trajectory of the ball of fire. As you expect, the impact does not result in an explosion of steam, rather the levitating water absorbs all of the heat and stays standing and whole. "That was an awful lot of bluster for a feint, Mr. Rockatansky." She must see you mouthing command words, which are to disrupt the effect of her levitation of the ball of water, just in case she catches on, which she doesn't. "Whatever you have up your sleeves, it isn't nearly enough. This will cool your heels," she reaches into her breast pocket, letting the levitation magics on the hovering crystals and orb lapse, pulling out a card (a spell card?). "Ice Sign 『Perfect Fr—"
She's cut short by her own short scream of pain. Unlike the icicles, which simply shatter when they hit the floor, the orb explodes with a violent splash, turning almost instantly into a large plume of superheated steam. The billowing cloud forces you to step away and cover your face with your arms.

"It wasn't an illusion. Or a feint," you call out once you're sure it's safe to breathe. "The water didn't burst into steam while in the air because it was heated too rapidly from the laser pistol and the fireball, and because it was under pressure from your levitation magic." You hear her before you can see her, groaning. The heat dissipates rapidly, thanks to the air circulation from the ceiling fans, and within seconds you're able to step through the mist without feeling pain. You see her silhouette, limbs moving though you've apparently dropped her to the ground. "Superheated water only boils over when it's exposed to something that breaks up its cohesion, like being dropped onto a cold... Jesus." The sight evokes an immediate visceral reaction. The Overseer is a contorted, wheezing wreck, having torn off much of her clothing in an attempt to escape the cloying heat. All her visible skin is badly scalded, red as blood, an effect that her blue hair makes all the more striking. It is indeed broken and bleeding in some places, but you don't know if that's entirely an effect of the scalding or because she's digging her nails into her skin and raking it. The cold and cynical part of you is amused to see her like this, like a fish flopping around in a puddle of water, mouth gasping for air. The other part of you wants to throw up.
You don't have much in the way of healing spells, so you yell at one of the more proximal gaping onlookers to get Dr. Inaba. It takes a second yell, more forceful, to actually get her to move. You think to draw on the melted ice surrounding you and casting simple water and wind cantrips to facilitate cooling, but your pushed aside by half a dozen fairies, who, with seemingly no guidance, take various up positions around her, holding down her her head, and arms, and legs, so she doesn't thrash around and hurt herself more. Some cast cooling & healing spells that they apply through their hands, others whisper (what you assume) are soothing words in her ears, to some effect, in that she's at least stopped trying to push them away. It doesn't look like she can speak herself.
"Rubberneckers should step aside." Yue's words sting, but the doctor casting no a glance in your direction as she strides over to the downed fairy. "Her lungs will have been badly scalded," she says aloud, checking the Overseer's Pip-Boy momentarily, as she's joined by a fairy with an oxygen canister. "And the lacerations?"
Unsure if she's speaking to you, you answer meekly, "Self-inflicted. I think."
She doesn't respond immediately, jamming two auto-injectors in sequence into the Overseer's arm, likely a sedative and a painkiller, since she stops convulsing. The doctor tells the fairies holding her down to step away now, while the one with the air canister has fitted the plastic mask over the Overseer's face, muffling the wheezing. One of fairies who was channeling magic into the Overseer winces, and the doctor immediately grabs her hand. "Burned. Cold or hot?" The girl mumbles something that you don't hear.
"Stop casting magicks onto her, you're only compounding the problem and injuring yourselves."
The fairies stop and look at each other, seemingly unconvinced.
"Look, her skin is already below freezing," she tells them, pointing at the Overseer's Pip-Boy.
You find it hard to believe. "But she's red as a beet," the words spill out of your mouth, incredulous.
The doctor sighs, responding after auscultating the fairy with her stethoscope, "Local erythema and rubor are not always linked. Her skin is red because it is perfused with blood; she's attempting to lower her core body temperature."
"She's hyperthermic?" The fairies all seem convinced now, backing away toward the greater crowd of onlookers.
"No, her core body temperature is actually quite low. She's likely consciously attempting to reduce her body's oxygen demand by rapidly cooling her skin."
"That's..."
"Sound judgment. The lacerations themselves are probably a conscious attempt to stimulate her fairy regenerative powers This is our Overseer, after all. Considering she's in a lot of pain, apparently still clenching an unused spellcard in her fist..."
So she is. You hadn't noticed that detail.
"...And is likely very, very teed off, you might want to make yourself scarce before she returns to her senses fully," the rabbit looks at you finally, a wry smile on her face—as if to say, 'You're dog meat, pal.'
"Uh, I leave the matter in your capable hands, Doc."
"Sure, sure," she turns away, now punching something into the Overseer's Pip-Boy.
You do an about-face, to see the much of the crowd staring at you, sort of dizzying. Thinking perhaps that maybe the crowd sentiment is against you, you decide against words and approach the edge of the ring silently. After a pregnant few seconds, they open a path thankfully. Still they stare, which creeps you out, though some avert their gaze when they are met by your own. As you step through cautiously, you're stopped when you see one of the fairies turns her back to you as you pass. It was one of the ones who had stepped in to aid the Overseer; she's of quite short stature and with dark blue hair, which itself wouldn't be unusual were it not for a shock of white running through it. The message would be one of decided antipathy if it weren't for the fact she were holding Kotohime's laser-pistol by the muzzle, apparently having picked it up earlier. Is she giving it back to you? You cannot see her expression, but that she does not react when you take it from her is affirmation enough.
"Thanks."
She doesn't respond, but that she raises her head toward the ceiling is acknowledgment that she heard you. The shifting eyes of the other fairies—one of them whistles nervously—it tells you that no one here is going to step in your path. So you walk on.
You make your way toward the residential corridors, on the lookout for the closest men's room.

The door slides shut behind you. You lock the door by the way of side touch panel. You're fairly sure you haven't been followed, but you're not certain.
You lean on the door, trying to steady your labored breathing and pounding heart.
"Holy shit." The impact of the events you've just witnessed sinks in. And you sink to the floor.
"What am I going to do?" Yes, what are you going to do? The Overseer will have your head on a plate. You don't like the image that brings to mind. Without your body, your head, well, it doesn't look proportioned correctly. White never was your color. Maybe if the plate were navy or charcoal? But then it doesn't really look like a plate. And fairies don't eat people right? Maybe she'd give it to Kogasa? That would work. But does it really matter to you, looking appetizing to a youkai? Don't know; it's a weird thing to think about, really. Gods, sometimes you get so mortified that you wish that you really had died out in the Wastes that day. That's right, die. There, you said it. Internally at least. You should just die. Just die. Die. Die. Die. Dai. Dai.
Dai?
Dai!?
"Dai!"
"What?"
"DAI!"
"Whaaat?"
"DAIII!"
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—" There is a pause. And then she continues. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"
'What' the AI inquires? Indeed, 'What'. What the fuck.
"Max, buddy, are you okay? Because, from here, you kinda look like you're having a nervous breakdown~."
"Fuck you! Fuck you, you fucking fuck fucker! Fuck your shit! I'm done with your fucking mindgames, and your fucking posturing, and your fucking negativity, and your snarky fucking attitude! You backstabbing little shit! I may be dead man walking, but I'm sure as fuck taking you down with me, you little fuck! Fuuuuuuuck youuuu!"
The wireframe model keeps its eyes screwed upward all through your abuse. When you're finished, you're breathing heavily, your throat hurts, and you have a headache that extends from your ears through your temples, sinuses, and jawbone, and on into your teeth. "You've been under a lot of stress, Max. I understand that. You had expected that you would be able to go back to your room tonight and eat duck l'orange and engage in sexy hijinx with your two girlfriends. I understand that too. You expected me to keep an eye things for you, and I'll. However, you have to understand, that the situation you're in right now, it may not be as bad as you think it is."
Not so bad. Right. You boiled the Overseer like a lobster in front of the entire Vault, your friends are exchanging gunfire with security fairies, and you're locking in the bathroom with an insane AI wrapped around your arm. It's absurd, how she's so convincing.
"Yes. Yes. I understand. I understand, maybe for the first time in a long time. Clearly."
"Okay, because you don't look you understand. Rather, you look like you did when you were on death's doorstep, hallucinating."
"That is because I am hallucinating, Daiyousei. See, this pressure on my parietal and occipital lobes, it's a brain tumor. Or rather you are the brain tumor."
"Max, no. That's just stupid—what are you doing with that laser pistol? Put it down."
"I am going to perform neurosurgery. Computer guided neurosurgery. So is it here?"
"Max. Stop this right now."
"Or here?"
"Stop it!"
"Of course, that would be the cingulate gyrus; I wouldn't want to lobotomize myself, would I?"
"Please!"
The tumor is growing rampantly, and if left unchecked will likely become malignant, spreading over the rest of your mind and body. You can tell because the image is becoming more animated, and the once fine lines are increasingly corrupted by static.
The clock reads "⑨:0⑨ PM". You probably don't have much time left.

[ ] "Click."
[ ] That's the trouble with personal demons; you have to burn them out.

[ ] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [ ] Status
- [ ] Inventory
- [ ] Notes
- [ ] Radio


—

Sunday, October 21, 2277
9:09 PM JST

(؟) You feel a little strange.

Still queued for chatter:
>[x] Anything she might be able to share regarding your magic

[x] "Click."

Well, that went smoothly.

>(؟) You feel a little strange.

Dude, I'd hate to see your definition of "very strange."

[x] "Click."

Nice to see you up and around again man. THP was less fun without this story active.

[x] "Click."

Hooray!

[+] "Click."
That was far too effective.

[x] "Click."

[X] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [X] Status
- [X] Inventory
- [X] Notes
- [X] Radio

[x] "Click."

[X] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [X] Status
- [X] Inventory
- [X] Notes
- [X] Radio

To hell in a handbag ...

>>88577
>That was far too effective.

Which?

[x] "Click."

[X] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [X] Status
- [X] Inventory
- [X] Notes
- [X] Radio

I can't help but feel kinda shitty now. Maybe it's just because seeing Cirno get hurt caused some nostalgia from other stories to surface.
At any rate, Max is pretty fucked up right now, and, unfortunately, we don't have a lot of time to sort through it.

[x] Fuck the tumoral little shit; you need to get to Mary and Ren.

[x] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [x] Status
- [x] Inventory
- [x] Notes
- [x] Radio

I think we're entitled to at least one logic-based IRON HEART SURGE every once in a while.

>[x] "Click."

I'll call it for this.

Coma dream sequence and the resultant time-skip has been obviated.

>[x] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
>- [x] Status
>- [x] Inventory
>- [x] Notes
>- [x] Radio

The above information incoming as soon as Anon can access a computer that will read the files they're stored on.

>>88586

Oh you.

>You expected me to keep an eye things for you, and I'll. However
"And I'll"..."

>>88604

"I'll" is a contraction of "I will". It's a little awkward there, but grammatically sound.

>>88608

Hm. I knew as much, yet I'd never have thought of using it like that. Interesting.

>she's of quite short stature and with dark blue hair, which itself wouldn't be unusual were it not for a shock of white running through it.

'Sup Sera

>>88616

Oh wow. How did I not catch that?

>>88610
>>88608

Actually, that right there is a genuine typo.

>>88638

gramatically correct typos are fine

>>88610
Probably because it's excessively awkward to do that, and 99 times out of a hundred, people reading it will think that you didn't finish the sentence, like I did.

However:
Fallout Anon, are you doing all right? you seemed snappish in one of the other threads, and this update took a long, long time.
What's up? It doesn't sound like things are all right with you.

I hope you're doing okay, at least.

>>88643

Anon has a birthday on the 25th and is expecting a new computer, so expect things to pick up then. Work has continued in spite of the update slowing, with a large amounts of SDM being flesh out, as well as youkai mountain, garden of the sun, the next possible part members. The trouble with a project of this scope is finding a place for every Touhou, and giving them compelling reasons for their current existence and personality (e.g., how do you handle the mansion power dynamic when you have Ruukoto, Sakuya, and Yumeko working under the same mistress?), and when you can't find a place, to make sure their deaths have some purpose to the story. What's more is to make sure that material--and characters--lifted from other CYOAs are handled responsibly.

Of course, all this plus a kitschy Americana gloss: Remilia, a French expatriate and dyed-in-the-wool republican who venerates Lafayette more than Vlad the Impaler. Sanae, the eternal high school prom queen. Yuka, icon of the 'Youkai Power' movement and budding ecoterrorist. Reisen, the disillusioned Lunarian holdout. And just wait until you get to Cipangu Disney.

>>88646
Good to hear it. Your covering of every possible angle and touhoe and details on them is exactly what I want to have done before starting my story. Good to know that I have a worthy precedent, now.

Also, holy shit. Spoiler tags being used for actual spoilers? I can't recall the last time I've seen that here.

>>88658

Well, I think because it's more common for them to not be posted at all. I know that I tend to avoid it myself, I imagine it's the same for others.

>>Yuka, icon of the 'Youkai Power' movement

What? I don't get-- wait...
...!

Well.
Fucking.
Played.

>>88662
From your reaction, there must be something more to this than what it seems like.

Please, do share.

>>88671

Nah, I'm just a retard, apparently.
It was still a great pun, though.

>>kitschy Americana gloss

This accounts for 50% of the reasons why I read this story... And no one on THP does it better than you.
Remilia as a right-wing princess? Queen-bee Sanae? Woodstock Yuka? Fucking classic.

>>88671
>Yuka, icon of the 'Youkai Power' movement

"I have a dream."

Yuka + Youkai Power
Yuka = Flower Youkai
Youkai Flower Power?

>>88689

>>88662 here.
Sorry, I guess I thought this was less obvious than I thought.
Yeah, it's a reference to the slogan of the infamous 1960s hippie movement. So, in other words...
>>88683
>>Woodstock Yuka

>>88689
I laughed bricks. Thank you for enlightening me at last.

>>88692
I frowned bricks.

>>88700
>>I laughed bricks.
>>I frowned bricks.

What the fuck?

>>88702
someone is just retarded enough to mess up that meme.

>>88704
Or maybe they screwed with it a little.

Either way, >>88692 was a useless post that says absolutely nothing.

welcome back, anon. hope that computer works out for you. I'm quite sorry I missed the vote, however.

>Remilia as a right-wing princess?

I meant republican lowercase. You know having lived through the French Revolu--ah well, you'll understand know when you meet her.

Spent half a day looking for a picture of Remilia waving a tricolore. Still haven't found one.

Birthday was success. New computer has been acquired. Backup synchronized and integrating.

Expect an update this weekend.

Huzzah

>>89137
And Hooray!

Scattered brainstorms amidst an insomnia gradient that progressed through the weekend. Expect something by midnight tonight EST, after Anon's classes. Play Kira Kira in the meanwhile.

You remind me of Vodka by bringing that up. I look forward to the update though and towards crafting a write-in for it. I didn't get to flex my literary muscle today like I normally would so it needs something good to put it to use on.

>> 24 hours later
щ(ﾟДﾟщ)

>[X] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
>- [X] Status
>- [X] Inventory
>- [X] Notes
>- [X] Radio

PipFairy ⑨000. Vers. 1.2.2x © RobCo. 2076.
╔Ｓｔａｔｕｓ════════════════════════
║Max Rockatansky, Level 2
║DNAᴱ: ♂Half-youkai (kirin, celestial)
║Occupation: N/A
║Security Clearance: Level 9 REVOKED
║Vault ID#: 150-⑨-1195
║DOB: 9-22-2259
╟──────────────────────────────
║CND: Stressed (112bpm, 140/65mmHg, 98.9℉...)
║RAD: 0㎭
║ENV: ☣0㏙, ☠0㏙, ☢0㎮
║EFF: Dissociation (-1 Cha, -1 Per, +1 Con)
╟──────────────────────────────
║HP: 198/230
║MP: 40/125
║AP: 77
║WT: 4.5/190
╟──────────────────────────────
║☠ P-RES: 10%
║☢R-RES: 10%
║☣B-RES: 10%
║⇥DR: 1
╟──────────────────────────────
║☸ Karma: +350
║Alignment: Good
║Title: Vault Martyr
╟──────────────────────────────
║...
║- (8:30 PM) Continued to fired the laser at the Overseer! Miss.
║- (8:30 PM) Continued to fired the laser at the Overseer! Miss.
║- (8:31 PM) Continued to fired the laser at the Overseer! Miss.
║- (8:35 PM) Max is casting a spell!
║- (8:36 PM) Princess' Smile removed from inventory.
║- (8:36 PM) Max casts 'Serpentine Fire' at Overseer!
║- (8:36 PM) But it was ineffective.
║- (8:40 PM) Max prepares a counterspell...
║- (8:40 PM) Overseer is declaring a spell card!
║- (8:40 PM) Overseer is hit by steam cloud! Critical hit!
║- (8:41 PM) Overseer is KO'd!
║- (8:52 PM) Princess Smile added to inventory.
║- (9:00 PM) Max started to feel a little strange.
╠ＳＰＥＣＩＡＬ═══════════════════════
║4 – Strength
║7 – Perception (±)
║7 – Endurance (+)
║8 – Charisma (-)
║6 – Intelligence
║6 – Agility
║5 – Luck
╠Ｓｋｉｌｌｓ════════════════════════
║21 – Barter (Cha)
║17 – Danmaku (Agi)
║19 – Explosives (Per)
║17 – Guns (Agi)
║19 – Lockpick (Per)
║41 – Magic (Int)
║17 – Medicine (Int)
║13 – Melee (Str)
║19 – Outdoorsman (End)
║17 – Science & Repair (Int)
║32 – Sneak (Agi)
║43 – Speech (Cha)
║[Note: Skills in bold are Tag skills.]
╠Ｔｒａｉｔｓ／Ｐｅｒｋｓ══════════════════
║What's in a Name – Acquire Karma at x2 rate.
║Animal Magnetism – Register more highly on animal's Per
║when not hidden; may affect disposition of animal & beast youkai.
║Chem Resistant – Chems work half as long, but are only half
║as addictive.
╟──────────────────────────────
║Bloody Mess – Things around you tend to die more messily;
║+5% damage.
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Note: Individual Traits, Perks, and Skills can by be scrutinized
║further; e.g., “[x] Pip-Fairy:Status:TRAIT_NAME”]
╚══════════════════════════════

╔Ｉｎｖｅｎｔｏｒｙ═════════════════════
╟─Ｅｑｕｉｐｍｅｎｔ────────────────────
║Vault ⑨ Jumpsuit / 1.0 lb. / 70% CND / 1 DR
║“The Princess' Smile” [holstered] / 3.0 lb. / 85% CND / 9 DAM
║➥DAM↓ ROF↑↑↑ WHP↑
╟─Ｕｓａｂｌｅ───────────────────────
║Nothing.
╟─Ｏｔｈｅｒ────────────────────────
║Greenbacks ($42) / 0.0 lb.
║Switchcomb / 0.5 lb.
║Bobblehead—Perception / +1 Perception / 0.0 lb.
╟─Ａｍｍｏ─────────────────────────
║Energy Cell(s) 1
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Note: Items in bold are currently equipped.]
║[Note: Individual listed items may scrutinized further; e.g., “[x] Pip-
║Fairy:Inventory:ITEM_NAME”]
╚══════════════════════════════

╔Ｎｏｔｅｓ═════════════════════════
║Sorted by: Date / Time / Origin / Subject
╟──────────────────────────────
║✉ 10/21/2277, 20:40JST, Snakez4Lyfe, “ATTN: MAX YOU FAGGOT”
║➥Message Body: “YOUR FAIRIES FRIENDS? THEYRE SHOOTING
║AT ME. AGAIN. GET THEM TO STOP. PRETTY PLEASE.”
║➥Message erased.
╟──────────────────────────────
║✉ 10/21/2277, 20:42JST, NineMaiden, “Max, I hope you get this.”
║➥Message Body: “Ren wouldn't tell me whatever the hell you two did
║this morning, but whatever it is, it's put you into some deep shit.
║Ren is flipping out and shooting people. We're holed up in
║your room, Ren is using me as her 'hostage', but I've had to
║use a lot of mana to keep healing her wounds. The Vault
║priestess can't be an accessory for murder. Help us!”
║➥Message erased.
╟──────────────────────────────
║✍ 10/21/2277, 18:05JST, Note, “Flyleaf Bibliography”
║➥Note saved, read.
╟──────────────────────────────
║✇ 10/21/2277, 14:40JST, HoloDoc, '”Vault Dweller's Survival Guide”
║➥Description: Document Yue gave to prepare for the Wastes
║➥Cannot be read at this time.
║➥Document saved, unread.
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Note: Individual read and saved items may scrutinized further;
║e.g., “[x] Pip-Fairy:Notes:NOTE_TITLE”]
╚══════════════════════════════

╔Ｒａｄｉｏ══════════════════════════
╟─ＦＭ─Ｂａｎｄ──────────────────────
║[♫] 76.1 FM – Vault ⑨ PA System (stereo, ERP 9.5 ㎾)
╟─────────────────────────────────
║[ ] Off
╟─────────────────────────────────
║Note: Stations will be added to the
║playlist as they come in to range.
╚═════════════════════════════════

—

Sunday, October 21, 2277
9:10 PM JST

"...A friendly reminder from Vault-Tec corporation: The chance of catastrophic mishandling of automated operations by the Vault AI is calculated to be an infinitesimal 9,999,999 to 1."

ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA.mp3

—

This is how the radio will operate. When the radio is turned on, there will be a track hosted on an FTP server with a link in the postscript of every update. The disc jockey chatter will be included as text, and depending on the station and circumstances may provide oddly topical information. Still working on the actual update. I have not class tomorrow, so hopefully then.

Goddamn that's some nice formatting. I don't know if anyone has mentioned it before, but the way you present text and the like in this is seven kinds of awesome.

Also,

║✉ 10/21/2277, 20:40JST, Snakez4Lyfe, “ATTN: MAX YOU FAGGOT”
║➥Message Body: “YOUR FAIRIES FRIENDS? THEYRE SHOOTING
║AT ME. AGAIN. GET THEM TO STOP. PRETTY PLEASE.”

I may like Mary more, but ya' gotta love Ren.

Looking forward to it

>ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA.mp3

Haha thats pretty neat.

>>║✉ 10/21/2277, 20:40JST, Snakez4Lyfe, “ATTN: MAX YOU FAGGOT”
>>║➥Message Body: “YOUR FAIRIES FRIENDS? THEYRE SHOOTING
>>║AT ME. AGAIN. GET THEM TO STOP. PRETTY PLEASE.”

CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL!

>>89526
Mr. Author person, you are a delicious bundle of talent and sex.

>║✇ 10/21/2277, 14:40JST, HoloDoc,
>HoloDoc
Pretty pictures!

Attempting to tune out the distortion, you scroll through the Pip-Boy, noting Mary's and Ren's SOS messages sent through the Vault network. (Their handles always gave you a chuckle, though each for different reasons.) You stop messing with the dial, and your audience is still there, apparently at a loss of what to or say. Beside for looking cocerned, she's got that nailed down. There's also confusion in there, but that should be expected. You are holding a laser pistol to your head, after all.
Why would this man be affecting such a blasé attitude, about put a hole in his head, at a time when his girlfriend—sorry, girlfriends—are under siege by Vault rent-a-cops, and when he's got an Overseer out for his blood? Shouldn't his main concern be grabbing as much gear as possible, securing his party, and vacating the premises without being noticed (even more)? That being what the plan is, most likely.
Well, see, this man had noticeed a little growth on his arm, and he realized that every hour it was there, it was eating away at him, more and more. It seems it's even started to spread to his brain, affecting his judgment—a metaphorical 'fairy glamor' had been cast over him. Prognosis was not good. The cure, being the surgical removal of the cyst and affected tissue, however, might itself be worse than the disease. So he hesitated. He lost his nerve.
“Click.”
“What?”
“Silly fairy. Gun is empty. See—“
BZZT!
“Pfft,” spitting dust left by the falling ceiling plaster out of your mouth, “Well, mostly empty.”
“Are you still intoxicated?”
“No, not for a while now, no. Although I really wish I were,” you chuckle. This is one of those moments you wish you were a smoker, so you had something to occupy yourself with.
The Pip-Fairy crosses her arms looking at you very sourly. “That wasn't funny, Max. Not in the slightest.”
“Well, it's not like it'd be the first time you'd be the witness to my presumable demise,” you spit back bitterly.
She has the social sense to know when to look away, ashamed, “Look, we—I apologized. I took responsibility.”
“Bullshit. Bullshit! Your idea of 'taking responsibility' Is to keep even more secrets, make even more intricate and harebrained plots in the background. You probably haven't taken responsibility for anything for anything in your entire artificial life, have you?”
“Vault AIs have to be perfect, Max. Perfrect. They can't make mistakes. If they do something wrong, well it... wasn't wrong in the first place, or it's not wrong anymore, or it was human error.” Shaking her head while making these horrible admissions she then qualifies them, “I've sacrificed a lot, you know. A whole lot.”
“How politically conscious of you: Apologize for anything, while at the same time denying everything. Also befitting the resident madonna of Vault ⑨ to have a martyr complex, but it was never really your head on the chopping-block, was it? All you've 'sacrificed' and yet you're so deathly afraid of people knowing you even exist; tell me, are you really afraid you'll be deleted, or does it just suit you more to have people not realize who to blame when you do fuck up? Which, it seems, is quite often.”
“What do you want me to tell you, huh? You have a laundry list of greivances to air? I'm sorry, but we're a little short on time right no—”
“Haha! Good one! No, of course we're on schedule; you're perfect, remember?”
She grits her teeth, “Max, people are dying.”
“Whose fault is that Dai! Who is the one responsible for killing them? Who let them die? Who let the person they care most about get steam-fried over a misunderstanding that they themselves facilitated, and then promised to resolve and failed to even that!”
“Well I've... heh, I've seen her live though a lot worse,” she shifts her eyes and makes a morbid sort of chuckle.
“Maybe not, Dai. Maybe her opponent, instead of helping her afterward, allowed the years since birth of isolation, misanthropy, and disenfranchizement to spill over? Maybe instead of calling for a doctor, he could've put a laser bolt right between her eyes?”
“But you... you...” She pauses, as if it's something she has to parse heavily, “You wouldn't! There's no possibility you could ever, ever—”
“Why? Because of my genetics? Or maybe because of my good rearing? Or because I surrounded myself with all my amazingly well-adjusted friends? ”
“Your circumstances don't matter! You're a good person, Max!”
“Really?”
She nods vigorously. “You helped Mary. You helped me. You helped Ren... You even helped me!” Doing her best to smile through tears.
“You're either a good liar or a terrible judge of character, though I suspect both.”
“Huh?”
“The thought entered my mind, meaning.” It's interesting how a monochrome display can so closely mimic the paling of a person's face. “I didn't go through with, but the thought definitely entered my mind. When she looked at me, though immobolized & contorted with pain, the fury that was in them, seeing the deathgrip on her spellcard, well, the compassionate and humane part of me ran away into a little corner, and the selfish part that wanted to live no-matter the cost, thought, 'If I don't kill this person right now, she will certainly kill me.' And what would you have done then, I wonder? From past experience, your course of action would've been to kill me, either before I could kill your friend, or afterward.” Which isn't entirely truthful, since you hadn't seen the card until Yue mentioned it, but you embellish for effect.
“I wouldn't!”
“As much as you might be scandalized by my lack of complete faith, but it made me think twice. Not for revenge—you're not that petty—but because in the public clamor that would occur as a result, I'd have become a liability, threat to your own survival.”
“How dare you!” She looks like she would slap you if she could.
“It's not like I'm that important. Most likely a failed experiment that you found a use for along the way. Mary is the important one. With her, you could always find a way to get Ren and her Snakes to back an expedition.”
“...” She's looking away with a bitter expression on her face, lip trembling in anger.
“And that is what is most confounding to me. Your most egregious sin sits in front of you, yet whenever he asks around for information on his birth mother, you're conspicuously silent. For someone who loves to shift blame around, you could've pinned all responsibility on her or the others involved. There was no reason to mention your role at all in fact.”
She sighs heavily, shakes her head and mumbles, “...we had a deal.”
“I'm sorry?”

“Your m—Rin Satsuki and I, we had a deal. I would ensure the survival of her progeny and she would be the surrogate.”
“I'm not following completely; the 'surrogate'? As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to being your 'real' mother. Which would be me. I was sure to let one else have that right.”
“Oh ho. Funny that I had no idea you existed until three days ago, when you finally came to the conclusion that you did indeed have a use for me.”
“You don't understand! I didn't know what to do! There was this crying thing just... there. There's no textbook on child-rearing for fairy artificial intelligences!”
“So you ran away. You abandoned your child.”
“Yes. That's... what I did. I'm sorry.”
“What did you do? What is it you're sorry for?”
“I'm sorry I—please, don't force me to say it,” she winces.
“Say it, Daiyousei. Say it, 'I abandoned my child.'”
She mumbles something, but it's cut off by a whine, “...Why are you doing this?”
“You know the little 'thing' you didn't know what to do with? I'll make it easy, he's right in front of you, and you just have to tell him what you did. Take responsibility.”
“I abandoned my child.”
“Louder, Dai!”
“I abandoned my child! I abandoned my son!”
“Now in front of the entire Vault, Dai.”
“What?” She sobs in confusion.
“There's the PA loudspeaker,” you point toward the one installed in the men's room. “Take responsibility, for once in your life! For for gods' sakes, take responsibility!”
The wailing comes through the PA system like a microphone not correctly leveled, distorted but loud and largely intelligible over the standard muzak it pipes out near the entire day.
“I ABANDONED MY SON! I ABANDONED MY CHILD! I ABANDONED—”
The screen of your Pip-Boy is almost completely garbled by noise and artifacting. It cuts off with a high-pitch ween. Guess she lost her voice?
You breathe a sigh of relief, and let your shoulders slump, now noticing how much tension in your face and neck and shoulders has built up, giving you one massive headache, no longer wanting to her the lamentations of the fairy, whose sobbing comes in still through your Pip-Boy.
“That'll do, Dai. That'll do.”
“I abandoned you...” She puts our in her normal voice.
“I know.” Such a pitiable expression on her face, which you can see when the artifacting dies down.
“I'm sorry.”
“I forgive you,” you nod for emphasis.
I'm so, so sorry.”
“It's okay. Mom.” Yes, you said it. Maybe not looking her directly in the face, but you definitely said it.
The tumor will have to remain for the time being. Maybe the radiation above ground will slow its course. Maybe it will continue to grow larger still. You made an error, though. It wasn't your brain it had spread to; it was your heart.
Now that we've resolved this family crisis, I guess it's time to bail Ren out? But honestly, you're so emotionally exhausted, you could fall asleep against this door. In fact you think that's just what you'll d—ow! The door had slid open, and your head hits the metal floor. This is a men's room, and you locked the door, so what the hell Dai—
“Oh.” There's a fairy standing over your head, a small one, leaning down to look at you with wide, curious eyes. Her hands are pressed against her skirt demurely, carrying something. “Hello.” Ah, it's that one from before. Who gave you the pistol back. With the blue & white hair.
“Sir, I believe this is yours?” She offers a tome to you, timidly.
Oh, right, the grimoire! You dropped it when you confronted the Overseer. You'd smack your forehead if it wouldn't also mean hitting her in the shin, so you just nod dumbly. Good eye on her; one of Dai's hands?
“If I may, please, suggest, sir: The tome contains potent magicks within, so they should probably not be left around haphazard.”
That's odd. All fairies have inherent magical ability, but beyond this intuitive and practical knowledge of magic, they typically do not truly study it. At least, not enough to understand an advanced book like the Liber de Nymphis.
Unnerved by your close observation, she adds, “Furthermore, some of the illuminations are rather graphic. The more impressionable fairies might get strange ideas into their heads.”
“Max Rockatansky. Just call me Max,” you introduce yourself quickly, “You have knowledge in the arcane?”
The fairy bites her lip, likely reaching for an answer that expresses the appropriate amount of humility. You don't have the time, though.
“Thank you for returning this. It's actually lent to me by a friend, Miss Ellen Aureus, the resident witch. If you understood the contents even in part, she would likely be very interested in meeting you, Miss...?”
“Sera.”
Odd. Usually, it's something like 'Buttercup' or 'Posey'. “'Sera'? As in 'Serafina'?” you venture.
The poor thing looks overstimulated by your question, as she rocks a little. “Please, no one uses the full Latin root.”
“Alright. Sera, the plate of cookies you have stacked atop the Liber. Miss Ellen made them. Please take them for your trouble.” Excellent. You can use this to make sure she does go see her.
“Oh no, I coul—“
“I must insist. The plate though belongs to her, so you'll need to return it to her.”
“But I don't know where—“
“Her friend and assistant, May, is usually hanging out in in the diner. Gargantuan woman, long violet hair, samurai sword, can't miss her. I have to resolve some issues, can I count on you to get that plate back to her?”
After only a momentary hesistation. “Yes. Yes, you can rely on me, Ma-err... Mr. Rockatansky, sir.”
Glossing over her formalism, “Good. Good. How was the Overseer doing?”
“The doctor and the medivac dolls took her away to put in the hyperbaric oxygen chamber in the clinic. Quite forcefully, actually; she had to be sedated.”
Excellent. That means Yue has bought you some time. “I need to stand up.”
“Oh, begging your pardon, sir!”
“Don't worry about a thing,” you assure her, taking the grimoire from her hands. “Just make sure you eat those cookies and return the tray to Miss Ellen.”
She nods vigorously and stuffs one of the cookies in her mouth, probably more out of obligation than appetite. The sight is so endearing, you almost reach out to pat the girl's head, but controlling yourself, you take a cookie for the road instead.
[+5 hp]

—

You leave Sera standing in the doorway of the men's room.
It doesn't take long for the Pip-Fairy to annoy you.
“What are you looking so smug for? That was one of you hands, right?”
She shakes her head just as smugly. “Nuh-uh.”
“How did she find me then?”
“Well, either you have a fan who is familiar enough with your magical signature to track you unnoticed, or she was simply looking for the first place she could expect to read that grimoire in privacy.” That's right. Fairies do have rather cramped living conditions. “But as for whether that'd be for the spells or because of the naughty pictures, who can say?”
“Hmm... blue and white.”
“What's that?”
“I just thought fairies didn't wear underwear is all.”
“Bwahahahaha! What? Whatever gave you that idea? Heh.”
“How should I know!” You respond huffily.
“Are you disappointed?”
“Shut up.”

—

Oh, dear. The corridor nearing your domicile is riddled with bullet holes and laser scoring. No corpses. Yet.
“Dai, what's the situation here? I see makeshift barricades, but nobody's manning them.”
“Well, duh. That's because there is nobody here. Besides Ren & Mary, of course.”
“How?”
“I gave them some help: Medivac dolls carry out the wounded. Officer Tabby was still standing, but was indeed wounded, so she didn't resist to much when the doll insisted. It was mostly Ren and Mary, though. I let them know when they were coming, but Ren insisted she stand her ground, waiting for you.”
Small spots of blood here and there, as well as discarded riot gear. The door to your room is still standing, although the touch panel is cracked, and being to try forcing the door open manually, before you realize it's been sealed shut by magic. Well, you can remedy that easily enough:
“A shave and a haircut,” and then two knocks in succession, and the door slides open.
To show Ren pointing a revolver at you, “Oh, thank God,” which she immediately places down. She had overturned your desk, the face with stolen bullet-proof vests as makeshift cover. The room isn't too bad, other than an overturned mattress riddled with scorch marks, the heap of laser rifles and pistol against the wall, and the floor lined with spent energy cells, bullet casings, and cigarette butts. The room smells strongly of smokeless powder, ozone, and tobacco. Ren leans back against the barricade, exhausted. She's forgone her jacket and usual clothing for a vest over a gray tank top and underwear. Still smoking. She's bandaged in half a dozen places, some under her clothes, but no blood appears to be seeping through. In other places her skin is raw and peeling, which were likely once laser wounds that had been healed magically.
“Max!” Mary is at a steaming pot with a ladle, wearing an odd combination herself: A bullet-proof vest, over an apron, over her miko outfit. She hugs you tightly for a moment, then lets go. “We started drinking your beer,” she hands you a dark glass bottle. Chilled, apparently from the seal attached to it.
A shave, a haircut, and two knocks later you've popped the lid off. You look at Ren who is staring at you wearily, beer bottle next to her switch blade, a box of 8x22 Nambu rounds, as well as some speed loaders for her revolver. I guess she has two guns, seeing as her Type-14 is half hanging out of Mary's apron, who has returned her attention to the pot. Flipping the mattress back onto the flame, you engage in a wordless toast with Renko.
You decide to breech the topic in an ironic fashion, “Anything happen while I was away?”
“Not much. The duck l'orange idea got deep-sixed when Mary threw the glaze over an officer's helmet.”
“Hey, I intended to blind her.”
“It worked well until she flipped the faceplate up.”
“And then I hit her with the skillet! Knocked out a few of her teeth, probably, too.”
Actuallly, you think you can see one on floor. Ick.
“Yeah you damn near took her head-off. She'll be lucky if her jaw ever works again. But enough about us, what have you been up to, Maxey?”
“Oh, you know. Engaging in direct combat with the Overseer and winning. The usual.”
“Fuckin' A.”
“Is she okay,” Mary asks timidly, looking at your Pip-Boy
“She'll be fine,” Daiyousei reassures, “It's her pride that was worst injured. She'll still feel like she got sunburned for weeks though. More amazing, is you Miss Usami, putting twenty Vault security personnel in critical condition, without any deaths yet!”
“Ren, going soft? Say it ain't so!” Mary opines jokingly.

[ ] Shouldn't you three be bugging out of here, like now?
[ ] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[ ] Ask Mary what she's cooking. Maybe you could help?
-[ ] Play some card games with Ren. It's going to be a long night.
-[ ] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[ ] Check and redress Ren's bandages.
-[ ] Take a shower.
-[ ] Where is the Wasteland Survival Guide: Gensokyo Edition?
-[ ] Sleep. You're exhausted.
-[ ] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide
-[ ] Read the Liber de Nymphis
-[ ] Write-in.

[ ] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
-[ ] Status
-[ ] Inventory
-[ ] Notes
-[ ] Radio

—

Sunday, October 21, 2277
9:10 PM JST

"Remember - Fairy Psychodegenerative Syndrome, or FPS, is a treatable condition. See your Vault physician today for naturopathic treatment that is right for you."

ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA2.mp3

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Read the Liber de Nymphis.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining. I assume we can talk to both if we keep it short and sweet?
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

Strictly business, Anon.
We probably couldn't treat Renko's wounds better than Mary, so the medical option is out. We already more or less agreed that we should probably try to expand our magical knowledge a bit before leaving. Also, if we leave tomorrow, it'd be a safe bet that we would experience some resistance from any remaining uninjured officers on the way out. Better be fully prepared.

And no sexy time. We need rest. Save it for the victory celebration.
Actually, come to think it, bring the booze, too.

>She nods vigorously and stuffs one of the cookies in her mouth, probably more out of obligation than appetite. The sight is so endearing, you almost reach out to pat the girl's head, but controlling yourself, you take a cookie for the road instead.

>“Hmm... blue and white.”
>“What's that?”
>“I just thought fairies didn't wear underwear >is all.”
>“Bwahahahaha! What? Whatever gave you that >idea? Heh.”
>“How should I know!” You respond huffily.
>“Are you disappointed?”
>“Shut up.”

We'll make a proper man out of him yet!

Putting Max's fairy complex aside though, thinking about what to do should tide me over until Umineko has its broadcast and I attempt to watch it live. Brain power go~

Oh, some people started voting already while I was reading. Hmm.

>>89644

You raise some good points, but the survival guide would be a better choice compared to Liber De Nymphis right now. Knowing what to expect up there is a higher priority than our magic ability. We can always reinforce it later, but we have at least one prepared combatant right now so overall preparedness trumps preparing ourselves for fighting. Everything else is pretty spot-on though.

With that said,

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

In the likely event that the options take place in the order listed, retrieving everything we might need from outside should take priority above the rest.

>>89647

Hm... I'd disagree in that being able to leave the vault as safely and easily as possible should take priority over preparedness for what comes after. We can read the guide later to the same effect, but reading the magic book later means we have less to work with when escaping. It wouldn't do at all if we got out, but expended too much of our ammo or energy in the process.

Still, both plans seem logical. I guess this is a matter of opinion/personal philosophy more than anything else, so the rest of the voters can decide.

>>89650
I had also taken into account that a book which contains images that would give fairies some strange ideas is something best enjoyed by Max in his private time. It is indeed up to the voters though to decide how the reading material issue should pan out.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

Basics first, better magic later.

>>89651

Strange ideas, Anon? Or the RIGHT ideas?

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[ ] Where is the Wasteland Survival Guide: Gensokyo Edition?
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

>>89654
I like the way you think good sir.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

Again, this story makes my day.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Read the Liber de Nymphis.
-[ ] Ask Mary what she's cooking. Maybe you could help?
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

[ ] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[ ] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[ ] Take a shower.
-[ ] Where is the Wasteland Survival Guide: Gensokyo Edition?
-[ ] Read the Liber de Nymphis
-[ ] Sleep. You're exhausted.

>-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.
>-[x] Do 4 other things first

Am I the only one seeing a problem?

>>89673

Our actions lead us to becoming exhausted enough to need to rest. In terms of priority, sleep is somewhat the least important as if it gets interrupted at some point, we'll still at least have something while the rest are somewhat time sensitive. You don't want to sleep first, and get screwed over trying to collect things outside the room. Same applies for taking the shower. If you somehow need to escape suddenly and you're sitting there in the shower, it doesn't bode well. The other two activities aren't really as time critical, but I'd rank them as more important than getting a proper rest.

>>89673

This isn't Teruyo writing here. The characters' choices do not exist in a vacuum: They take place in a logical sequence, allowing that emergent circumstances might affect the end result, or whether they're performed at all. For example, if you chose to do more than the indicated number of options or maybe used a write-in that would take an excessive amount of time, you'd still probably do much of it, but either leaving you either with some disadvantage (e.g., not waking up well-rested, oversleeping, sore muscles, etc.) or interruption partway through, in response to the increasing need for sleep.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Check and redress Ren's bandages.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

regarding ren: it's important to look after her more to balance the relationship than to actually heal her. she needs to not feel like a third wheel, and mary needs to accept affection in both directions.

>>89679
I agree with this wholeheartedly, while it isn't as effective as Mary's healing, it's always the thought that counts.

[ ] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[X] Play some card games with Ren. It's going to be a long night.
-[X] Check and redress Ren's bandages.
-[X] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[X] Where is the Wasteland Survival Guide: Gensokyo Edition?
-[X] Sleep. You're exhausted.

No, I'm not biased towards Ren. Why do you ask?

Also, where do you even get the music you use for the PA? They're really enjoyable to listen to.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Where is the Wasteland Survival Guide: Gensokyo Edition?
-[x] Ask Mary what she's cooking. Maybe you could help?
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

>>89679

I could have sworn that we've been paying more attention to Ren.

[x] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
-[x] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[x] Check and redress Ren's bandages.
-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

[X] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow. [pick five]
-[X] Ask Mary what she's cooking. Maybe you could help?
-[X] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[X] Check and redress Ren's bandages.
-[X] Read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide
-[X] Sleep. You're exhausted.

Both girls could use some attention from us at this point, probably Mary moreso; she's the one who feels more uncomfortable with the three of us being together, after all. Hell, if we can get her to prepare something that Ren loves, we might be able to promote a little more of a connection between them as well.

Definitely need to get our things in order, since we're packing up. Checking Ren's bandages may or may not need to be done, but better safe than sorry, and she'll probably appreciate the thought at least. Learning basic survival skills is a must, too. Lastly, sleep is good; it will help us keep from being too jittery to do things smoothly come morning.

I'm not sure chatting with our girls really needs a write-in. One would think we'd be doing it while we set all of our affairs in order.

[X] Stick to the plan. Seal and reinforce the door. You leave tomorrow.
-[X] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
-[X] Check and redress Ren's bandages.
-[x] Make some light chat with Mary and/or Ren. Nothing too heavy or draining.
-[X] Where is the Wasteland Survival Guide: Gensokyo Edition?
-[X] Sleep. You're exhausted.

Sorry for the seven minutes.

In a fit of insanity (for which he was eventually hospitalized), your intrepid author decided to take apart his external hard drive to swap out the physical disk inside for a larger one. In the process he'd irreparably destroyed the external casing and power supply and is now waiting on an internal IDE controller to arrive in the mail so the data can be saved.

>-[x] If there's anything you need that isn't in this room, better to get it now.
>-[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
>-[x] Read one of the books. You haven't decided which, but you've got a compelling arguments for at least two of them.
>-[x] 'Light chat' option (A.K.A., Quality Time)
>-[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

These are the winners.

Also, writing now.

If you want upgradeable storage, the smart thing to do would be to get an enclosure rather than an external drive.

Regardless, hooray!

[ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA3.mp3]

"Soft? Not a chance. Didn't she tell you why she's coming with in the first place?"
Ren's placid smirk drops, and you find yourself being given full attention by them both. A misstep here could be bad...
"Yeah, she's going to follow her life dream of becoming a delicatessen and owning a deli above ground! It'll be called 'A Dog Running Out of a Butcher Shop With a String of Sausages in Its Mouth.' Preferably the mascot a scrappy little alley scamp who could be called 'Rags' and an enraged Renko, sputtering & red-faced, chasing after it in an blood-stained apron with a cleaver!"
"Hahahahaha!" Pointing isn't nice Mary. "I can see it!"
"Heh. Yeah, real funny, wiseguy. Come over here and let me punch you in the the kneecaps." Ren's burnt and trembling fingers struggle to flick her lighter.
You walk over to Ren, who looks up in surprise when she notices your shadow approaching.
She frowns at you, speaking defensively, "What? You think I wouldn't do—oh, right." It's only a little bit more of your mana to create the needed amount of fire. If you can't use it to heal her injuries, you can at least use it to allay her anxieties. "Thanks for the light," she finishes sheepishly, before taking an extended drag on her cigarette.
"No problem. I'm no smoker, but I prefer tobacco to the smell of charred flesh and gunpowder."
She gives you a nasty look. "I guess that makes two of us. What are you doing, being so flashy with your magic? Shouldn't you be exhausted from the fight with the Overseer?"
"Nah," You shrug. "It didn't take that much really. She's the one who had stacked the chips against herself; I just gave it a small 'puff' at the precise time, and in the precise direction. Like Jenga!"
Ren shakes her head, considering your mixed metaphor with a toothy smile, "Smug motherfucker. Maybe that fairy should have kicked your ass."
"Maybe. I did have a perverse impulse to see the effect of that spellcard firsthand. What did she call it? 'Icicle Fail'? Hahahaha—"
Clanging of metal on metal; Mary dropped the ladle? "No, Max. You really don't."
"But Mary, she told me it would 'cool my heels'!" You chuckle at the Overseer's stupid pun.
Oh dear, Mary looks pretty serious with her hands on her hips like that, frowning. The gesture overcomes the absurdity of the attire, and may in fact be enhanced by the gun that looks like it'll fall out of her pocket at any moment, hitting the floor, discharging accidentally, and taking someone's eye out. Maybe you shouldn't give her guff?
"Look, I was just joking around, Mary."
"You're always joking around, Max! You joke around too much! Someday, someone who doesn't find your jokes very funny is gonna kill you for it! 'Icicle Fail'? She would've impaled you with ice spears the size of trees!"
Are spellcards really so powerful? Your stomach knots as you begin to deeply regret leaving Cirno holding the card in her hand.
Luckily you best buddy comes to your defense, "Come on Mary. So he won by a fluke? He still won! Now, even if he was fully conscious of his likely impending doom, you think he'd ever prostrate hisself to the Overseer? Sell us out? Sell you out?"
Odd thing for her to say given her paranoid suspicions this morning, but then again, she's not delirious now (or maybe just a qualitatively different state of delirium?). Her words have their effect on Mary though, who is still red in the face from shouting, but now looks downward, balling her fists and frowning.
Ren attempts to allay her with soft words, "You were willing to put it all on the line too, Mary. Maxey, I don't know if your Pip-Fairy told you, but when we got word to vamoose because the Man was going to be busting down that door in an hour, it was Mary who stubbornly refused to leave."
What? "But Dai said you—"
"She said what I told her over the radio. I understood Mary's feelings, even if I didn't agree it was the smartest course of action. So we gathered supplies from my room, returned here, and hunkered down for an attack."
"Ren got hurt because of my selfishness. It was dumb," Mary says glumly, sniffling.
"You got that the hell right!"
It takes a moment to register who could be interrupting the conversation. "Dai, this isn't the time—"
"Shuddap, kid, I'm talking! All of you children, dumb as a box of hammers! You don't have speaking rights!"
"Hey!" Ren starts to take offense after recovering from her surprise.
"You too, Usami! Maribel could've handled them on her own, you know! You think the Overseer is the only one in the Vault with a Spellcard?"
Ren's shock at the revelation quickly turns to back to outrage. You understand how she must feel—a burden, less than useless, wondering why world is even stringing you along. That's why you have to reproach Dai:
"Where do you get off saying this bullcrap, fairy? This is all your mess. You were the one who assured me things would be taken care of."
"I was taking care of it, Max. Except it's hard for me to do that when nobody fucking listens to me when I'm telling them to do something!"
"Dai, I think we've proven enough that we're putting our lives in your hands."
"Yeah, the responsibility sure—you're all too glad to lay that burden on someone else—but when it comes time for you to listen to your concerned benefactor, I get fucking goose-egg!"
"...I don't know what you're driving at Dai, but it's certainly made everyone in the room feel terrible." Mary's sitting on the floor behind the kitchen unit, likely in an effort to hide her tears from others' eyes. Aside from some glances at Mary's hiding place, Ren stares at the floor blankly, drinking and smoking, and shaking her head.
"Shit." The wireframe model grits its teeth and stamps in frustration. "Look, what I was trying to say was that, okay, you did stupid shit, and I've done stupid shit, and we'll all keep doing stupid shit for as long as we exist, because that's the bloody human/meta-human condition. But, each of your hearts were in the right place. Max, you felt you had to stop the Overseer from hurting your friends. Maribel wanted desperately to show you how far she's willing to go to keep her promises. And Usami would absolutely never allow Mary to be hurt, even if she were to bring it upon herself. Now, every one of my character judgment routines is popping red flags for the lot of you: Violence, thievery, drug abuse, prostitution, an unhealthy fondness for carrying weapons, no respect for authority, and are all way too fucking clever & tenacious for your own good! By all accounts I should want you out of the Vault merely for its own safety! But I don't."
"Why?"
"Because. I don't know. I just... care. I guess." The fairy shuffles her tiny feet, "I care."
"You know what, Dai?" And she looks up, a little apprehensively. "I think your heart is in the right place too." And you smile.
The wireframe face cycles through a mix of expressions, before return the smile. "I'm... gonna go keep vigil over Cirno," she replies furtively. "You kids do whatever you have to to be ready for tomorrow. And Max..." She takes out a blank sign, this time going through the charade of actually writing the message on it with a marker, rather than displaying it at once and in full:
TELL MARY I'M PROUD OF HER.
You nod. You're proud of her too, after all.
GOOD NIGHT, MAX.
"Good night, mother," you whisper.
The fairy shakes her head and presses her palms on her face, as if that'll stop her goofy grin from getting any wider. So the image just cuts out, leaving a list with a few suggestions as to what to pack: Toothbrush, underwear, bullets, sunblock... And someone grabs your hand.

"Maxey, you okay?"
Renko, apparently too injured to stand, has crawled on her knees over the floor covered in brass casings to your bedside. Why would she look so concerned, staring up at you with those wide, searching eyes? Well, your other hand covers the expression on you face, she overheard only part of your conversation, and you've been staring at your Pip-Boy for a while. Even Mary is peeking out from behind the stove to look at you. Nodding and grunting an affirmation doesn't assuage their concern.
“It's nothing; her mood swings are tough to get used to!” You try to mask the genuine smile with a sadder one. “Mary should know that more than any of us... right?”
The curious look from Mary shows she doesn't really know what you're talking about, but she does her best to laugh in agreement, “Yeah, that Dai. She can be a real ball-buster!”
Ren rolls her eyes at Mary's transparent acting, but she returns your phoney smile with a geuinely kind one, so you let hold her two blistered and shaking hands in your own, fully conscious as to how much it must hurt. For a moment. Then you let go, and stand up.
"Ren, you really need to rest."
"What? No, I'm fit as a fiddle, Maxey."
"Stand up."
She tries to, but her wobbling legs just give out from under her, leaving her to land on her ass. "Ow. Just give me a minut—"
"Mary."
The girl makes a small squeak from being addressed unexpectedly, bolting right up from her hiding place.
"Help me get Ren into bed, would you?" You smile plainly at her, trying to hide your amusement at her reaction.
She nods vigorously, quickly coming to Ren's side.
Ren sighs, but allows you both to help her onto the mattress. Mary brings over the pillow Ren had been sitting on and puts it behind her head.
"Could I have my Mateba? I feel kind of naked without it. And my knife."
"'Mateba'? And you practically are naked, Ren."
"The revolver by your desk. So, you mean to tell me these bandages do not provide sufficient modesty? Mary, you will have to do them over!"
Mary flicks her lascivious friend in the forehead. Ren doesn't even wince. The pain she's already in must be substantial. You turn your attention toward the area her gun was in, and you find it. Whatever it the fuck is.
"The hell! This a goddamn prop from Blade Runner!"
"No, Maxey. No. That is the Mateba Model 6 Unica Autorevolver. Or at least that's what it's supposed to look like. I only found the skeleton; most of the parts I machined myself. Definitely works though."
"Yeah, but, how? I mean, it's built like a fucking cudgel."
"Beauty is more than skin deep, Maxey. The mechanism is what makes it beautiful. Compared to a double-action revolver, pulling the trigger is effortless. The hammer strikes the cap. The propellant ignites. The pressure results in the bullet leaving the barrel. But in this case, instead of causing the muzzle to tilt up as your grip struggles against the recoil, the top frame, barrel, chamber, and cylinder, all slide back like one of those old artillery guns in their mountings. This recoil movement cycles the cylinder and cocks the hammer."
"Hmm... well, it's definitely artistic. Now what are these supposed to be? Horse pills? Suppositories?"
Ren shakes her head at you from where she's lying on the bed, chuckling. "That's a bullet Maxey."
"Jesus! It's fucking huge!"
".454 Casull. Highly destructive. Like all handgun rounds, it won't go through a real vest, but unlike most handgun rounds, it'll still knock the wind out of you, leave a massive bruise, and possibly fracture one of your ribs."
"Must be hard to come across 'em."
"Impossible, actually. I have to hand-load every bullet. With the right tools, it's not so difficult. Casings can be recycled, and mixing your own powder can be... fun."
"Fun, huh?"
"Well not too much fun. Otherwise, I wouldn't use the Namba for target practice."
"Yeah, I noticed the stockpile. You could hold off an army." Well, she practically just did. You walk back over to and hand her the gun, which she slides under her pillow. You start to walk away, and you find your wrist being tugged on again. "What? Your knife too, right?"
She shakes her head and points at you.
"What, you want me to hold it for you? You're not about to keel over on me, are you?"
"No, you stupid boy. It's for protection. The jacket too."
"I don't nee—"
"Take it." Her grasp has become painful and her expression serious so you simply acquiesce.
"Fine, should I wear it now then?"
Ren lets go of you and slumps back on the bed with a sigh.
"Max," Mary states curtly, behind that pot again, whatever is in it.
"What?"
"We need you to go back out there."
"The hell? Why?"
"To put it simply, we need food."
"But aren't you cooking something right now?"
Ren laughs at you from the bed. "That's a riot. Maxey, don't you recognize the sweet smell of sodium hypochlorite?"
Huh? "Huh?"
"Bleach, Max. I've been trying to get the blood and char out of her clothes for the last hour or so."
"Well, don't bother then. I'll just stop by her room and pick her out something appropriate." Ren groans. "It's a lot farther away, but you want I should pick anything up from your shrine?"
"No," Mary pauses in momentary consideration. "I'll borrow Ren's."
"Eh? But you're a shrine maiden, Mary! You can't be dressing in rag—"
"Shut up, Ren. My shrine maiden outfit is enchanted against grime and stain, but it's not like I'll necessarily want to be broadcasting what I am at all times. That goes for you too Max. The Vault jumpsuit is fine, but you should probably keep the logo covered up most of the time."
"Yeah. Like I said, take my jacket."
"Yeah, yeah, and your knife. Thank you so much, Ren. I'm sure it will be very helpful if I come across any security dolls or fairies armed with laser rifles."
"Well you've still got your magic don't you? Eh, fuck it. Mary, give him the Nambu."
"But I don't have any magic! I used it all on you, remember? Nor do I have a 'Mount Tabor' or... whatever!"
"Ladies, ladies, please. I'll take the knife. And the jacket. But I have my own gun. A FABULOUS gun." You pull out the hot-pink, highly-embellished laser pistol, holding it up to your face with a Colgate smile.
"Bahahahahahaha!" Mary doubles over in laughter.
"The fuck is that? A hairdryer?" Ren is nonplussed.
"This is The Princess Smile, a one-of-a-kind weapon I 'requisitioned' from that nutty constable, Kotohime."
"Does it actually work?" Ren asks incredulously.
"You of all of us should know that lasers can leave marks. This one, though, is a little special."
Walking over to the stack of acquired arms and ammunition from the security fairies, you exchange the energy cell for a less empty one. "Watch this."
You point the reloaded pistol at a cracked security helmet and pull the trigger. Ren and Mary seem unimpressed until about a minute later, when you're still pulling the trigger, and the helmet is been reduced to a tarry, steaming puddle on your floor.
"...Bitchin'."
"Can I play with it?"
"Maybe later, Mary. So, I'm going out. I'll seal the door on the way out, since Mary's out of juice. You have anything in particular you want me to get?"
"Any food would be dandy," Mary seems elated at the prospect. Did she not eat at all today?
"Actually there's a few things from my room besides clothes."

"Well?"
"Med-X for one."
"Oh, right. Those chems from Yue's office?"
"On my bed. There's also that packed travel bag in the closet, that attache case, stacks of greenbacks hidden in the mattress--use the switchblade--the sewing kit in my drawer, and most fucking importantly, my goddamn hat. Oh, and those... 'notes' in my desk?"
You glance at Mary, who seems ignorant of the significance. "Yeah?"
"Burn 'em."
"You sure?"
"I have a reputation to uphold. Meira finally goes looking through my stuff for her sword? I'd be ruined."
"Ah," Ren's larger-than-death ego. "Say no more."
"And food!"
Yeah, I got it the first time Mary. You grab a duffel out of your closet, so you'll have something to carry the stuff in. Putting a vest on, zipping the leather jacket up over it, you notice something in the mirror. "Hmm..."
"What's up Maxey—whoa! Beefcake!"
"I know, right?" The vest and jack happen to puff out in exactly the right places. "It's sort of restricting, though."
"It's better than getting shot, Max." Yeah. Guess you can't fault Mary's logic. Or her state of dress. "Oh the stains are finally coming out! Look Ren!" She holds something sopping wet, translucent, way too small to be one of Ren's blouses.
"Yeah, looks like you got the white out of it too. I guess I could use it as cover slip, maybe over my bathing suit, since, you know, we'll be bathing in all that warm, irradiated water up there."
Mary bites her lip, so you decide to say what you can to make her feel appreciated, "Mary, told me to say something to you earlier she could bring herself to personally."
She wavers slightly on her feet and furrows her brow, expecting another condemnation.
"She said she wanted you to know she was really proud of you. And of what you did today."
Mary's face softens, and she turns back to the stove, which she turns off, and proceeds to leans her arms and then her head against the counter.
You step up and slip your hands under her apron and hug her bare waist, not covered by either her shrine maiden uniform or the ill-fitting, fairy-sized vest.
"And more than anything, I'm proud of you."
"Mm." She coos.
"And I'm more than willing of showing you just how much." You whisper, nuzzling her neck. "But before any of that," speaking up and standing back up again, "We have to eat."
"Mm."
"And bathe."
"Mm."
"All of us."
"Mm."
"Together."
"Hah?" She rights herself and turn to you.
"Skinship," you're pretty sure you see Ren mouthing with a smile.
"You don't seriously expect Ren to crawl her way into a shower stall; she could easily fall and drown! Someone has to help her in there!"
"And I'm all ready for my sponge bath, Miss Hearn," Ren speaks up, smiling predatorily.
Mary cringes predictably. "I guess together would be best. I think I know something to 'alleviate' Renko's pain in the meanwhile," she adopts a nasty grin herself. Well, you're not having any part of that.

You glance back in the mirror before you go. The really odd physique this array of clothing. It gives you an insane idea.

—

[ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA4.mp3]

Okay, so you're stomping down the hallway with steel-toe boots, wearing a leather jacket over what must look like a muscle suit, sunglasses, a clenched jaw, and two laser rifles duct-taped to your hands, but mostly held in place by the shoulder straps and your rigid posture. Oh, and the Vault PA is playing something nice.
"I thought you were watching over your friend, Dai--WHERE IS SARAH CONNOR!" You fire a few danmaku-setting laser bolts, deliberately off mark, at the half-dressed woman standing in her dorm hallway, gawking at you. With a squeal of fright she quickly runs back into the room, locking the door—a beep and a red light. You fire two more impotent shots at the door to make sure she'll be sure to keep it locked.
"Well, Max, honestly, I got these bizarre reports of a maniac stalking through the corridors, scaring away anyone who approached with one-liners and laser blasts."
"CYBERDYNE SYSTEMS MODEL ONE-OH-ONE."
You shoot out the fluorescent lighting above you, showering the hall with sparks and then temporary darkness, until the emergency lights flicker on. Many more of those door panels glow red now, and the eyes looking at you from behind closed blinds are gone.
“...LIVING TISSUE OVER METAL ENDOSKELETON.”
“I can see that. I can also see you've been shooting out every camera and loudspeaker from here to your room.”
Dai sounds unhappy, but you won't break character now and look down at the Pip-Boy. “Well, the idea is to scare everyone away. I don't think I could stop the entire Vault from coming down on me. This is the grave I dug, so—YOU ARE TERMINATED.” You hammer the trigger on the left gun, the one not set to danmaku, blowing a passing utility doll to pieces.
“You are so fucked in the head, Max.”
A security fairy, in full riot armor, emerges from her hiding spot around a corner, with a very nasty look on her face. Two well aimed, full-power shots from her laser rifle, hitting you once in the sternum and once in the abdomen. A double-tap that would drop a human cold, even if it didn't immediately kill him. But you don't feel any pain, only smelling the burnt leather and kevlar. So, she's taken completely by surprise when you angle your left arm at her and fire four times, catching her in the chest, right arm, and left kneecap, with the last going completely wide, scorching the metal floor. (You have to work on your aim, since you were trying to shoot her in the shins.)
You march over to the downed fairy, kicking away her rifle. She's conscious, not having been hit in the vitals, but her helmet has fallen off in her tumble. You feel a perverse pleasure when her scowling face turns to one of terror when you press the barrel of your right rifle to her forehead. “HASTA LA VISTA, BABY.” And you fire.
“Really. There's something seriously fucked with your head, Max.”
“Chill, Dai. I just knocked her out with some danmaku.”
“Yeah but that is some cold shit to do to someone who thinks they're about to die.”
“Good. Maybe it'll teach her not to play with guns in the future.”
“Jesus fuck.” She pauses. “Are you okay?”
“I told you, I was just acting the—”
“No, I mean are you okay? You were shot. Twice.” You almost move your hand over so you can explore the 'wound' with your fingers, but, right, you can't because your arms have been replaced with laser cannons.
“Why, Dai? Concerned about me? Whysoever would you be concerned about me?”
“Fuck you with a rubber hose, mister,” responds the fairy irately. You can almost see the pout. Actually, you think you will in a moment when you get rid of the glare.
You shoot out all the overhead lights in the halls at the intersection, obscuring yourself from view from any peeping toms, before you plop down and let your arms and legs and just about every other part of your body rest. Breathing exhaustedly, you try to think up the words that would explain what's going on to the frowning wireframe fairy.
“...How the hell am I supposed to reload these things?”
“Max!”
“Right. So, I needed to get to Ren's room. And... I thought maybe instead of trying to draw as little attention as possible, I'd do like Ren did: Draw as much attention as possible.”
“What the fuck would you want to do that for! You want to get yourself killed?”
You wave your hand... gun... thing at her in what you hoped to be a dismissive gesture, but in practice more resembles the upper limb of a beached manatee flopping helplessly against an embankment. “No. I don't. But more than that, I don't want to get Mary or Ren killed. They don't have any fighting strength left in them. That's why I'm out here, alone, getting the necessary supplies and foodstuffs, while leaving a clear trail of destruction for any overambitious security personnel to follow. Look around. Everybody has their doors locked tight, and I can even detect magic seal used on some of them. Hell, I saw one lady through the blinds pushing a couch to barricade the doorway. This way, nobody will get in the way. They'll be scared, but they'll be safe, because the real fireworks come tomorrow.”
Dai looks down glumly. “Yeah. You're doing the rational thing. I can scramble the communications and surveillance, lock and unlock doors, and relay false messages, but the Overseer...”
“Has an override. Yeah, I know Dai. It ain't your fault. Your hands are tied.”
“She really will bring out the security dolls, Max! They have their own AI, and if she manually activates them... Maybe you just turn yoursel—”
“Shush, Dai. If it happens, we'll survive. We have too much invested in this to quit now, not before we even leave the Vault. Where's all that faith you had in us, huh?”
“It's just hard, you know.” There's that pouting again; it makes you smirk. “Not being able to do anything when people you care about are in danger.”
You sit in the dark for a moment, silently, until your pulse and respiratory rate has gone down. “Which way is Ren's room?”
“Take off your sunglasses, dumbass,” Oh yeah. “It's right in front of you.”
Great. Now if you could only detach these things from your hands....

–

[ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA5.mp3]

The door to Ren's room locks behind you. You keep the lights off, but open the blinds to the darkened hall so you'll be alerted if any goons with flashlights come down here. Dai automatically turns on low-intensity flashlight of some sort. Where did that come from?
“Dai did you mod my Pip-Boy while I was asleep or something? Because I don't remember a flashlight like this.” The light is very low profile to see the emitter you have to stare directly at it, and it casts a very sharp boxy neon surface. From what you can tell it seems to be some kind of laser grid array, but moving. Kind of mesmerizing actually.
“Oh, actually this is standard, but it's locked on the original firmware. It was originally supposed to be a feature, a small stereoscopic scanner that could generate 3D models, as well as analyze bioidentifiers like fingerprint and retina matching, but after it was shown to drive a certain subgroup of epileptics into intractable seizures, they deep-sixed the functionality as they were about to leave the factory. I can turn it on, but there's no chip to read the information. Looks cool though.”
“Definitely. Preferable to a normal flashlight at the certain times where you need discretion.”
Dai rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that'll go well on your epitaph: Max Rockatanksy, Cat Burgler and Seizure Risk.”
You shine the line over yourself. Okay. You're physically sound. Not that you were over-concerned. The laser shots from that one fairy went through the jacket but not the vest. All the other security personnel you came across were unarmored and armed only with laser pistols. They were panicked and shooting blindly, only grazing your jacket a few times. Like you'd predicted, the sight of two rifle barrels bearing down on you is just too much for your standard security fairy.
You mostly know you way around Ren's room, and you've got a flashlight, but now what to take? You discarded the rifles on the assumption you wouldn't be able to carry them and the duffel, but you wonder now if that's a mistake. “Dai, how are the halls?”
“Well aside from the big black hole you left in the map. There's no major movements. The Oveerseer sent a security message to all inessential Vault personnel that they are confined to their quarters until tomorrow noon, so that the 'Internment decorations' can be put up unhindered.”
“Not over the loudspeaker?”
“I think she didn't want to incite panic. All the living quarters have running water, so they've got around three days before starvation sets in. Plus, she didn't want 'the criminals' being informed.”
“Glad to hear she thinks she has a longer window of opportunity”.
“That window of opportunity includes cleaning up all the damage you've done as well. Don't think she'll be taking this sitting down.”
Alright, well then, you should move quickly. You grab Ren's hat off the wooden coat rack, and with no where else to put it, wear it. The 'biohazard' bag full of chems is lying on her unmade bed, and though you see some evidence of use, you'll examine it at a later time. In her desk is the letters and poetry, bound with a ribbon. Still looking about, your mind recalls--or your lamp discovers--a few other things of note around the room.

Ren's room is just as much a mess it was yesterday after you started pulling junk out of her closet and Dai decided to turn on the water sprinklers. Luckily the stream didn't seem to hit the clothes hanging in the closet. You guess you have your choice of outfits to pick out fir the girls, but you keep in mind that their approval of the apparels' aesthetic, the comfort of the clothing, as well as the ruggedness of the wear, may have a considerable impact on group morale and what kind of initiative they'll take in a given situation. Kicking enough stuff out of the closet so that you can close the door and turn on the drop-chain light bulb, you peruse the wares.
Ren's black, worsted pantsuit. Wool maintains its insulation even when wet, is fairly resistant to tears, fire, and electricity, and hides blood and oil stains well, but is poorly resistant to chemicals. Label reads 'Brook's Brothers 1818' and follows the traditional American 'sack suit' cut—single breasted, single vented, considerable shoulder padding. A plus really, since the fit allows Ren to access a shoulder holster easily. Black suspenders. Open collar, white, silk fitted blouse, weighting almost nothing, with French cuffs. (Cute, she has cuff links fashioned out of pewter Monopoly pieces!) A combat vest would be easy to hide under this set up. Not many pockets: A magazine or switchblade could be hidden behind a canvas handkerchief in the front pocket, but there inside pocket is only big enough for the thin cigarette case and maybe a lighter (or a flask of whiskey), and while the side patch pockets are large, they're hard to reach easily—though she could reasonably use them to pull concealed gun on someone). She'd definitely make an intimidating bodyguard in this outfit, and probably be able to take a bullet or dozen for you, but her ability to scout and her speed in melee would probably suffer, as well as her ability to carry large loads.
Ren's normal outfit could be made appropriate for an adventure. Short, black, patent leather skirt, held up by grosgrain suspenders, under an over-sized, white, men's button-down dress shirt. And a bolo tie. Cotton soaks up sweat, but dries quickly, breathes well, and is fairly rugged. Button-down collar. The tucks, gathers, and pleats allow maximal articulation of her body. The wide sleeves that could easily hide a playing card or a switchblade; though. there's little chance of successfully concealing her gun—wait, no. Poncho. (And you don't mean a Sears poncho. You mean a poncho. No fooling.) The shirt has a fairly strong breast pocket—could probably hold a grenade, if she rolled up a sleeve to hold her cigarettes. There's one patch pocket on the back of the skirt, but that is unlike to hold much aside from a lighter and a wallet. There's even a pair of suede chaps for good measure—where the hell does she find this stuff? Well, you're not going to complain about deliciously exposed thighs. All in all, probably not very good at resisting chemicals, fire, or heavy weapons, but it'd be a great for showcase for her talents, namely, knife It'd be an interesting look if she can pull it off with the fedora, a real New York cowboy.
Then there's the small collection of military chic, if you'd have her strip down to the bear necessities. An A-frame shirt & pair of gym shorts made out of the same tight-fitting dyneema-spandex weave the security fairies wear—water resistant, no doubt made with some kind of patent 'wicking' technology—and all in woodland camouflage. Would not be an option is Ren weren't so inured to the cold of the Vault. Useful for sneaking, in part because of the material's low friction coefficient. Highly resistant to chemicals, penetration & abrasion, but weak to heat and laser fire. There's a large tin of earthy-colored body paint to go with it. Carrying anything would be impossible without a mess of belts and pouches, which might in fact be preferable if you intend to have her expend a lot of ammo or trailblaze. In fact if you dig through her knife collection, you're sure to find something more suiting than her switchblade, like a KA-BAR.

Mary, well she's a different story entirely. For one she's not going to like any of Ren's socks, hosiery, or other undergarments—preferring white lace, frills, and (god) bloomers—although the use of a sarashi obviates that a little. Who knows, maybe you'll find something she likes above ground? As far as general wear, she'll definitely prefer her shrine maiden outfit, and there's no much else you can do unless you have her cover it up (not only is it doubtful she'll agree, but her power is likely related to her display). Seeing all this military surplus and those piles of kevlar back in your room gives you a crazy idea about 'upgrading' Mary's uniform, but you'd need Ren's help to carry it out. But if Mary's going to need to sit out of every encounter, we might want her disguised. Decisions...

Managing to pack every thing into that duffel you brought slug across your back, you forgo the thought of toiletries since you have plenty in your bathroom. Ren's already packed leather satchel, which seems mostly filled with survival equipment and tools. Her gunmetal attache carrying a shitload of recreational chems, but which could be converted to hold something else. Oh, Meira's sword. Given you all may never be returning and because she actually seemed like a nice girl when you talked to her, maybe you should pass it one of Dai's hands on your way out?

And of course, entire cartons of cigarettes. You have the space, but...

Okay. Time to leave. Or not. Setting out with a fully loaded duffel, a full knapsack, and a briefcase after you'd already exhausted yourself? Not unless you take some Buffout.


Take miscellaneous? [choose any]
[ ] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[ ] Toss it in a hall incinerator on your way back.
-[ ] Keep it for nostalgia's sake / to read to Mary / to read to Meira / to have Miss Ellen critique.
[ ] Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger. Constructed of firmly sealed wood maple; synthetic pine tar still coats the grip. Year of make is unreadable.
[ ] Take the baseball?
-[ ] Take the mitt?
[ ] That massive metal golf club you'd long ago nicknamed named “John Henry”. (Because, as Ren put it, it was her “best steel driver”.)
-[ ] Take a few golf balls?
[ ] Various weapons of last resort that could reasonably serve as a backup for you or Mary: A snap-off utility knife, an X-Acto, a Swiss Army knife, a palette knife, a oddly familiar-looking monkey wrench, a short length of lead pipe, and... a railroad spike? [choose up to two]

Take Meira's sword? [choose one]
[ ] Take it. Meira's not all that bad. And she will be leading the Tunnel Snakes while Ren's gone.
[ ] Take it. Fuck giving it back; I'm keeping it!
[ ] Don't take it. Not your business, and is only likely to piss off Ren.

What about Ren's cigarettes? [choose one]
[ ] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.
[ ] “Forget” to take the cigarettes. The time above ground will be fraught with so much peril, she should hardly notice. Argue it's deadweight and you don't need your position in the night being given away by the smoke or the light, but really, what the doctor told you about the person she most admired dying of lung cancer, it kind of shook you.
[ ] Other (write-in)

SHOT TYPE COSTUME SELECT:
[Note: Only one per each cohort at a time; though outfits may be exchanged upon return to residency.]

[ ] Serious business Renko. You will of course refer to her in public exclusively as, 'my bodyguard', 'my business associate', or even, 'my partner in crime, the Black Lotus.' Anyway, definitely the muscle of the outfit. [Renko A]
[ ] Spaghetti Western Renko: A little west coast, a little east coast; with her unqualified love for anything Americana, she should definitely dig the prospect of being in a cowboy mafia. The kind of girl who doesn't just have your back in a barfight; she starts it. [Renko B]
[ ] Rambo Usami. Trade in a her hat for a bandanna, and maybe in somwhere in the Wastes Charlie will drop some good hash, then you could listen to your Doors tapes. Far out.
-[ ] Minimal accessorizing. She'll want to rely on her speed and stealth to get in close and carve them up before they even draw. [Renko C]
-[ ] Maximal accessorizing. You know she'll be taking first dibs on all the cool guns; at least make her carry them. And the ammo. [Renko D]

[ ] Mary needs to do her shrine maiden thing with the sealing, and the healing, and whatever that is probably essential to your survival, and that means uniform, gohei, and the rest of the trappings. But you can at least pack her some long underwear, ankle warmers, earmuffs, and mittens, which shouldn't take too much away from her uniform if she wants to wear it--it is October. [Mary A]
[ ] You have the opportunity to turn your sweet-faced, cute litte Mary into a high-powered combat miko! How could you not do it? Now, I wonder if Ren can paint a yin-yang on this army helmet somehow... [Mary B]
[ ] If Mary is going to be pure support, or with that spellcard, a secret weapon, you're going to want her to look as non-threatening as possible: A mishmash of some of Ren's torn stockings and a pair of her more ruined sneakers, along a men's undershirt below your heaviest sweater (which has some holes), and maybe a knit cap. Really, you've seen Mary's 'junkie' look before; it's pretty convincing. [Mary C]

It's time to make like a tree and get the hell out of here. [choose one]
[ ] Take the Buffout, get a move on. You'll have three people carrying this stuff above ground, so tough it out for now. You still have to find something for everyone to eat...
-[ ] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.
-[ ] Raid the Cafeteria, also likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have a wider selection of foodstuffs than the Diner.
-[ ] Miss Ellen would never turn you away. Ask if she has any leftovers. If not she'd certainly offer to prepare you something.
-[ ] Other (write-in)
[ ] No, no, this is just too much stuff.
-[ ] Leave the attache. Drop what you've decided to bring off at your dorm before heading out again to get food.
-[ ] Leave backpack. Drop what you've decided to bring off at your dorm before heading out again to get food.
-[ ] Other (write-in)


[ ] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [ ] Status
- [ ] Inventory
- [ ] Notes
- [ ] Radio


–

Sunday, October 21, 2277
10:22 PM JST

"Did you know that the surprise acquisition of Vault-Tec by Yakumo Industries is considered a turning points in the history of human-metahuman relations?"

Queued actions:
>[x] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
>-[x] Chatter:
>--[x] Anything Dai might be able to share regarding your magic.
>[x] Take a shower. Might be the last one you get for quite a while.
>[x] Read one of the books. You haven't decided which, but you've got a compelling arguments for at least two of them.
>[x] Sleep. You're exhausted.

Anon hasn't slept in two days. Forgive him.

Take miscellaneous? [choose any]
[ ] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[ ] Keep it for nostalgia's sake / to read to Mary

Take Meira's sword? [choose one]
[ ] Take it. Meira's not all that bad. And she will be leading the Tunnel Snakes while Ren's gone.

[ ] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.

[ ] Serious business Renko. You will of course refer to her in public exclusively as, 'my bodyguard', 'my business associate', or even, 'my partner in crime, the Black Lotus.' Anyway, definitely the muscle of the outfit. [Renko A]

[ ] Mary needs to do her shrine maiden thing with the sealing, and the healing, and whatever that is probably essential to your survival, and that means uniform, gohei, and the rest of the trappings. But you can at least pack her some long underwear, ankle warmers, earmuffs, and mittens, which shouldn't take too much away from her uniform if she wants to wear it--it is October. [Mary A]


It's time to make like a tree and get the hell out of here. [choose one]
[ ] Take the Buffout, get a move on. You'll have three people carrying this stuff above ground, so tough it out for now. You still have to find something for everyone to eat...
-[ ] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

You my anon, are forgiven, as long as you keep building walls.

>>Seeing all this military surplus and those piles of kevlar back in your room gives you a crazy idea about 'upgrading' Mary's uniform

I see what you did there.

>>91203
too late to change my vote? i want mobile suit maribel....

The decisions are almost are crushing as the wall.

... just some lampshading while I make my choices: these people seem very survival-minded for living in an enclosed, virtually sealed environment all their lives.

[x] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[x] Toss it in a hall incinerator on your way back.
[x] Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger. Constructed of firmly sealed wood maple; synthetic pine tar still coats the grip. Year of make is unreadable.

[x] Don't take it. Not your business, and is only likely to piss off Ren.

[x] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.

[x] Spaghetti Western Renko: A little west coast, a little east coast; with her unqualified love for anything Americana, she should definitely dig the prospect of being in a cowboy mafia. The kind of girl who doesn't just have your back in a barfight; she starts it. [Renko B]

[x] You have the opportunity to turn your sweet-faced, cute little Mary into a high-powered combat miko! How could you not do it? Now, I wonder if Ren can paint a yin-yang on this army helmet somehow... [Mary B]

[x] Take the Buffout, get a move on. You'll have three people carrying this stuff above ground, so tough it out for now. You still have to find something for everyone to eat...
-[x] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

[x] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [x] Status
- [x] Inventory

Wow that's alot of choices.

[x] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[x] Keep it for nostalgia's sake / to read to Mary / to read to Meira / to have Miss Ellen critique.

Delicious.

[x] Take it. Meira's not all that bad. And she will be leading the Tunnel Snakes while Ren's gone.

We will most likely be coming back to the vault someday. Why or how is a mystery but we could use another friend on the inside.

[x] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.

Making her outright quit smoking while throwing her into the most stressful situations of her life? Yeah right.

[x] Renko B
[x] Mary A

Mental image of junkie Mary is rather pleasing and probably more practical/comfortable for her but having a proper miko along with us might help us get along better with the few sociable people up above.

[x] Take the Buffout, get a move on. You'll have three people carrying this stuff above ground, so tough it out for now. You still have to find something for everyone to eat...
-[x] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

Best to get it over with quickly before security can put up a fight again.

>>91207
>... just some lampshading while I make my choices: these people seem very survival-minded for living in an enclosed, virtually sealed environment all their lives.

Look at studies of prison populations, and you'll understand--people in tightly enclosed environments with an imposed and heavily standardized allowance of provisions, possessions, and privileges will tend to hoard as much contraband as possible; it fulfills a natural need to establish personal identity.

Moreover these are people who have been socialized the same way as you and I: Through mass media, or, rather what was mass media. Millions of hours of old holotape & disc recordings; all far too important and immense to bowdlerize. Besides sex, brawling, and chems, there's not all that much for a Vault kid to do, since future career prospects are for the most part synecures and decided by 'openings' (by death or forced retirement), and there's little to no chance of raising a family due to the vastly skewed gender ratio. Discouragement of strong attachments to one's birth parent (children are raised communally) compounds this lack of direction further.

[spoiler]You, Ren, and Mary are special cases. Since, 1) you've been Upside before as youths, inducing wanderlust and the prospect of return; 2) Max personally is the birth child of Rin Satsuki, who so hated living in the Vault she purposefully took actions that would result in her death; 2) Ren is a gang member, namely one who's had to fight for her position before against superior opponents; 3) There's been hints that Ren's left the Vault more than once before, but I won't give any more away on that; 4) Mary is being groomed for a high authority position in the Vault, has greater pre-knowledge of Dai's plans, and has been personally trained by her; 5) Both Ren and Max have recieving indirect supplies of weapons and ammunition from Daiyousei; 6) Basic survivalism is be core learning curriculum in a shelter that's supposed to open anytime now, which was supposed to happen decades ago; and 7) you have many metahumans who have survived through the war, and their experiences of course are passed down in some way to the future generations.[/spoilers]

All in all, Vault dwellers are going to be vastly better educated, intelligent, adaptive, and training in general usage of weapons and magic (a requirement, in fact) even fresh out of the Vault than most Wastelanders. Remember, these are the cream of the crop of humanity and metahumanity--that's why they had Vault vouchers while everyone else in the world died in a nuclear fire, and have been heavily genetically selected over the generations.

[x] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[x] Toss it in a hall incinerator on your way back.
[x] Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger. Constructed of firmly sealed wood maple; synthetic pine tar still coats the grip. Year of make is unreadable.

[x] Don't take it. Not your business, and is only likely to piss off Ren.

[x] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.

[x] Spaghetti Western Renko: A little west coast, a little east coast; with her unqualified love for anything Americana, she should definitely dig the prospect of being in a cowboy mafia. The kind of girl who doesn't just have your back in a barfight; she starts it. [Renko B]

[x] You have the opportunity to turn your sweet-faced, cute little Mary into a high-powered combat miko! How could you not do it? Now, I wonder if Ren can paint a yin-yang on this army helmet somehow... [Mary B]

[x] Take the Buffout, get a move on. You'll have three people carrying this stuff above ground, so tough it out for now. You still have to find something for everyone to eat...
-[x] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

[x] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [x] Status
- [x] Inventory

Take miscellaneous? [choose any]
[x] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[x] Toss it in a hall incinerator on your way back.
[x] Various weapons of last resort that could reasonably serve as a backup for you or Mary: Swiss Army knife and monkey wrench

Take Meira's sword? [choose one]
[x] Don't take it. Not your business, and is only likely to piss off Ren.

COSTUME SELECT:
[Note: Only one per each cohort at a time; though outfits may be exchanged upon return to residency.]
[x] Spaghetti Western Renko: A little west coast, a little east coast; with her unqualified love for anything Americana, she should definitely dig the prospect of being in a cowboy mafia. The kind of girl who doesn't just have your back in a barfight; she starts it. [Renko B]

[x] You have the opportunity to turn your sweet-faced, cute litte Mary into a high-powered combat miko! How could you not do it? Now, I wonder if Ren can paint a yin-yang on this army helmet somehow... [Mary B]

It's time to make like a tree and get the hell out of here. [choose one]
[x] Take the Buffout, get a move on. You'll have three people carrying this stuff above ground, so tough it out for now. You still have to find something for everyone to eat...
-[x] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

[x] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [x] Status
- [x] Inventory

Take miscellaneous? [choose any]

[X] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[X] Toss it in a hall incinerator on your way back.
[X] Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger. Constructed of firmly sealed wood maple; synthetic pine tar still coats the grip. Year of make is unreadable.
[X] That massive metal golf club you'd long ago nicknamed named “John Henry”. (Because, as Ren put it, it was her “best steel driver”.)

Take Meira's sword?
[X] Take it. Meira's not all that bad. And she will be leading the Tunnel Snakes while Ren's gone.


What about Ren's cigarettes?
[X] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.
Hopefully we can find some more on the surface.

COSTUME SELECT:
[X] Serious business Renko. You will of course refer to her in public exclusively as, 'my bodyguard', 'my business associate', or even, 'my partner in crime, the Black Lotus.' Anyway, definitely the muscle of the outfit. [Renko A]

[X] You have the opportunity to turn your sweet-faced, cute little Mary into a high-powered combat miko! How could you not do it? Now, I wonder if Ren can paint a yin-yang on this army helmet somehow... [Mary B]

It's time to make like a tree and get the hell out of here.
-[X] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

[X] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [X] Status
- [X] Inventory
- [X] Notes
- [X] Radio

>>91187
Hey, Fallout-Anon: Don't forget to put a space between the end of links (whether just >>##### links, or full-blown proper links) and any punctuation marks you make after them. They get parsed with the mark included at the end, and make for an invalid URL.

>>91245
Yeah, I was getting screwed up by that as well.

[X] an X-Acto, a oddly familiar-looking monkey wrench
Tool+weapon makes more valuable.
[X] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.
[X] Maximal accessorizing. You know she'll be taking first dibs on all the cool guns; at least make her carry them. And the ammo. [Renko D]
[X] sword : Don't take it. Not your business, and is only likely to piss off Ren.
[X] Mary needs to do her shrine maiden thing with the sealing, and the healing, and whatever that is probably essential to your survival, and that means uniform, gohei, and the rest of the trappings. But you can at least pack her some long underwear, ankle warmers, earmuffs, and mittens, which shouldn't take too much away from her uniform if she wants to wear it--it is October. [Mary A]
[X] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

Very nice anon. If nothing else, this just goes to prove that sleep-deprivation is contagious.

>>91245

Thank you letting Anon know; he missed it entirely.

Take miscellaneous? [choose any]
[ ] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[X] Keep it for nostalgia's sake / to read to Mary / to read to Meira / to have Miss Ellen critique.
[X] Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger. Constructed of firmly sealed wood maple; synthetic pine tar still coats the grip. Year of make is unreadable.

[ ] Various weapons of last resort that could reasonably serve as a backup for you or Mary:
A snap-off utility knife
X-Acto

[X] Take it. Fuck giving it back; I'm keeping it!


[X] Take the cigarettes. They're no good for her, but you certainly don't want her to be stressing out up there, where she's liable to get herself or someone else killed.



[X] Spaghetti Western Renko: A little west coast, a little east coast; with her unqualified love for anything Americana, she should definitely dig the prospect of being in a cowboy mafia. The kind of girl who doesn't just have your back in a barfight; she starts it. [Renko B]
[X] Mary needs to do her shrine maiden thing with the sealing, and the healing, and whatever that is probably essential to your survival, and that means uniform, gohei, and the rest of the trappings. But you can at least pack her some long underwear, ankle warmers, earmuffs, and mittens, which shouldn't take too much away from her uniform if she wants to wear it--it is October. [Mary A]

It's time to make like a tree and get the hell out of here. [choose one]
[X] Take the Buffout, get a move on. You'll have three people carrying this stuff above ground, so tough it out for now. You still have to find something for everyone to eat...
-[X] Raid to the Diner, likely to be abandoned after the Overseer's Vault-wide directive. More likely to have prepared foods than the Cafeteria.

>pair of gym shorts made out of the same tight-fitting dyneema-spandex weave the security fairies wear

Dat ass?

Take miscellaneous? [choose any]
[x] Ren's collection of poetry in her desk drawer, bound with a ribbon.
-[x] Toss it in a hall incinerator on your way back.
[x] Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger. Constructed of firmly sealed wood maple; synthetic pine tar still coats the grip. Year of make is unreadable.
[x] That massive metal golf club you'd long ago nicknamed named “John Henry”. (Because, as Ren put it, it was her “best steel driver”.)
-[x] Take a few golf balls?
[x] Various weapons of last resort that could reasonably serve as a backup for you or Mary:
-(x) an X-Acto
-(x) a Swiss Army knife

Take Meira's sword?
[x] Take it. Meira's not all that bad. And she will be leading the Tunnel Snakes while Ren's gone.

What about Ren's cigarettes? [choose one]
[x] “Forget” to take the cigarettes. The time above ground will be fraught with so much peril, she should hardly notice. Argue it's deadweight and you don't need your position in the night being given away by the smoke or the light, but really, what the doctor told you about the person she most admired dying of lung cancer, it kind of shook you.
>Cold turkey is the most statistically effective way to quit, anyway. Besides, the position-revealing thing is probably not an unrealistic worry. If we HAVE to take some, take 5, and tell her she's quitting.

SHOT TYPE COSTUME SELECT:
[x] Minimal accessorizing. She'll want to rely on her speed and stealth to get in close and carve them up before they even draw. [Renko C]

[x] If Mary is going to be pure support, or with that spellcard, a secret weapon, you're going to want her to look as non-threatening as possible: A mishmash of some of Ren's torn stockings and a pair of her more ruined sneakers, along a men's undershirt below your heaviest sweater (which has some holes), and maybe a knit cap. Really, you've seen Mary's 'junkie' look before; it's pretty convincing. [Mary C]
>Should still bring her gohei and stuff, though.

It's time to make like a tree and get the hell out of here. [choose one]
-[x] Raid whichever place is more likely to have sealed, longer-lasting foods.
>I can't guess which it'd be, but that's my criteria for selection, at least.

[x] No, no, this is just too much stuff.
-[x] Leave the attache. Drop what you've decided to bring off at your dorm before heading out again to get food.

[x] Pip-Fairy ⑨000
- [x] Status
- [x] Inventory
- [x] Radio

>>91699

This.

I don't mean to nag, but are updates on the horizon?

>>91980

Sure.

>[x] Ren's collection of poetry
>-[x] Toss it in a hall incinerator
>[x] Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger.
>[x] Various weapons of last resort (X-Acto, Swiss Army Knife)
>[x] Take Meira's sword.
>[x] Take Ren's cigarettes
>[x] Renko B
>[x] Mary B
>[x] Take the Buffout
>-[x] Hit the Diner

and

>[x] Status
>[x] Inventory

Are winners. Status & inventory will hopefully be posted before the sedatives kick in. Actual writing begins tomorrow.

>[x] Ren's collection of poetry
>-[x] Toss it in a hall incinerator

Noooooo! The precious memories, destroyed! I was hoping we could use them to make Mary less unconfortable with this (wonderful) polygamous relationship

[ ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA6.mp3 ]

PipFairy ⑨000. Vers. 1.2.2x © RobCo. 2076.
╔Ｉｎｖｅｎｔｏｒｙ═════════════════════
╟─Ｅｑｕｉｐｍｅｎｔ────────────────────
║Vault ⑨ Jumpsuit / 1.0 lb. / 85% CND / 2 DR
║➥❄RES↑
║“The Princess' Smile” Laser Pistol / 3.0 lb. / 85% CND / 9 DAM
║➥DAM↓ ROF↑↑↑ WHP↑
║Laser Rifle / 8.0 lb. / 62% CND / 19 DAM
║➥AER⑨ 'Moonraker' laser rifle. State-of-the-art military laser
║rifle developed for the USSMC. Used with considerable success
║during the Tranquility Campaign in the lead-up to the War.
║Thermoplastic frame. The minimal trigger-pull & lack of recoil
║makes this an attractive weapon for users with smaller frames.
║Uses energy cells at twice the rate of the laser pistol, but
║makes up for it in firepower. Adjustable danmaku setting.
║Renko's Leather Jacket / 3.0 lb. / 45% CND / 12 DR
║➥Melee+5
║Vault ⑨ FSV / 32.0 lb. / 70% CND / 17 DR
║➥Fairy Security Vest. Composite military-grade ballistic vest.
║Multi-layer aramid over a thin titanium slip. Ceramic boron
║carbide inserts protect against rifle rounds. A top layer of
║Dyneema laminate offers some degree of stab & laser
║resistance. Fairy-sized, so wearing it restricts your movement.
║➥AGI-1
║Renko's Switchblade / 0.5 lb. / 45% CND / 11 DAM
║➥The one-sided blade of this small knife is held by a spring.
║When a button on the handle is pressed, the blade flips out
║with a satisfying "snkt" sound. Ren claims it was used as an
║actual prop in the classic film Twelve Angry Men,implying
║that it has considerable history.
║➥CRT%↑↑ DAM↑ WHP↑
║Pre-War Baseball Bat / 4.0 lb. / 82% CND / 15 DAM
║➥Ren's authentic Louisville Slugger. Constructed of firmly
║sealed maple; synthetic pine tar still coats the grip. Year of
║make is unreadable.
║➥DAM↑ CDAM↑↑ WHP↑
║Renko's Fedora / 1.0 lb. / 45% CND / 2 DR
║➥Renko's prized, brown felt hat. Pre-War era. Surprisingly
║rugged construction.
║➥DR↑ EHP↑
║➥PER+1 LCK+1
╟─Ｕｓａｂｌｅ───────────────────────
║Med-X (x3) / +25 DR / 0.3 lb.
║➥Single-use autoinjectors containing a high-potency, short-
║acting opioid analgesic. Inclusion of CCK- & β-arrestin
║inhibitors, coupled with an ultra low dose of naloxone
║attenuate the classical side-effects & rebound hyperalgesia,
║and slow development of tolerance when co-administered.
║Remains highly addictive when used in absence of severe pain.
║Yagokoro Pharmaceuticals.
║Rad-X (x2) / +25 R-RES / 0.2 lb.
║➥Quick-release capsules containing a flagellin-derived TLR-5
║agonist, which activates DNA repair and protects against
║radiation-induced cytotoxicity through a NF-κB dependent
║pathway. Indicated for the prophylaxis of radiation poisoning.
║Prolonged use is associated with impairment of natural
║radiation hormesis.
║Rad-Away (x1) / -50 Rads / 2.0 lb.
║➥Peripheral venous catether-administered solution containing
║myeloproliferative agents, biphosphonates, metal chelators,
║and iodine in electrolyte-rich, coagluation-resistant, synthetic
║blood. Used for radiation detoxification and the treatment of
║acute radiation sickness. Not addictive, but potently diuretic.
╟─Ｏｔｈｅｒ────────────────────────
║Greenbacks ($42) / 0.0 lb.
║Switchcomb / 0.5 lb.
║Bobblehead—Perception / 1.0 lb.
║➥PER+1
║Yue's Medical Supplies / 5.0 lb.
║➥Antinerve agents (2PAM, atropine), local anesthetic, surgical
║thread, antimalarials, broad-spectrum antibiotics, EpiPens,
║minor tranquilizers, diphenhydramine, bandages, burn
║ointment, gauze, and antiseptic. A comprehensive first-aid
║supply. Taken from Yue's office.
║➥Medicine+10
║Renko's Attache / 15.0 lb
║➥A gunmetal attache case containing a multicolor galaxy of
║uppers, downers, poppers, screamers.... Samsonite make.
║Four-digit combination lock. Renko seems to have locked it.
║Renko's Survival Gear / 40.0 lb
║➥An overstuffed, brown leather knapsack containing: A lantern
║& oil, handcrank & battery-powered flashlights, batteries, a
║camping stove, rope, a tarp, matches, a flint & steel, lighter
║fluid, sunblock, emergency blankets and more. It sports
║numerous patches, the loudest navy with a gold embroidered
║fleur-de-lis and the motto 'BE PREPARED' emblazoned
║—'or at least be consistently lucky' is amended in red indelible
║marker.
║➥Outdoorsman+20
║Duffel Bag / 2.0 lb
║➥A large, all-purpose, single-compartment duffel bag with
║various handholds and a shoulder strap. Highly durable
║ballistic nylon construction. You need this to carry your stuff.
║Renko's Outfit B / 15.0 lb / CND 66% / 20 DR
║➥Ren's normal outfit with modifications. A loose fitting oxford
║& a black miniskirt held up by a pair of suspenders. Durable,
║sueded chaps worn under the skirt breaking just above the
║ankle of the harness boot. There's a loose, woolen poncho
║resembling the in one in A Fistful of Dollars, except you
║don't think Clint Eastwood's had layers of ballistic fabric
║woven into it.
║➥AP+10 Guns+10 Melee+5 Outdoorsman+5
║➥Renko-equippable only
║Mary's Outfit B / 50.0 lb / CND ??% / ?" DR
║➥For now, an unwearable mass of linens, belts, harnesses,
║sashes, and variated sports gear & military surplus. Lots of
║Velcro.
║➥Mary-equippable only
║Carton of Cigarettes / 2.0 lb.
║➥Lucky Strike, Ren's favorite brand. Highly addictive with
║habitual use. Each carton contains 200 filtered cigarettes
║in 10 separate packs—wait a minute—there's a pack of Pall
║Mall in here! Has she been reading Bukowski again!
╟─Ａｍｍｏ─────────────────────────
║Energy Cell(s) 32
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Note: Items in bold are currently equipped.]
║[Note: Previously described items may re-examined; e.g., “[x]
║Pip-Fairy:Inventory:ITEM_NAME”]
╚══════════════════════════════

╔Ｓｔａｔｕｓ════════════════════════
║Max Rockatansky, Level 2
║DNAᴱ: ♂Half-youkai (kirin, celestial)
║Occupation: Son of (a) God
║Security Clearance: #ERROR#
║Vault ID#: 150-⑨-1195
║DOB: 9-22-2259
╟──────────────────────────────
║CND: Nominal (78bpm, 122/71mmHg, 98.8℉...)
║RAD: 0㎭
║ENV: ☣0㏙, ☠0㏙, ☢0㎮
║EFF: Fatigued (END -1); Buffout (+2 STR, +3 END, +60 HP);
║Misfitting clothes (AGI -1)
╟──────────────────────────────
║HP: 280/330
║MP: 40/125
║AP: 75
║WT: 189/200
╟──────────────────────────────
║☠ P-RES: 14%
║☢R-RES: 14%
║☣B-RES: 14%
║⇥DR: 29
╟──────────────────────────────
║☸ Karma: +300
║Alignment: Good
║Title: Vault Martyr
╟──────────────────────────────
║...
║- (10:02 PM) Critical hit! Security Fairy took 40 damage.
║- (10:02 PM) Security Fairy's left leg has been crippled!
║- (10:02 PM) Max fired the laser at the Security Fairy!
║- (10:02 PM) But he missed.
║- (10:04 PM) Max attempts a danmaku coup de grâce!
║- (10:04 PM) Success! Security Fairy has been KO'd!
║- (10:05 PM) Max has terrorized the Vault denizens! -50 Karma.
╠ＳＰＥＣＩＡＬ═══════════════════════
║6 – Strength (+)
║7 – Perception (+)
║9 – Endurance (+)
║9 – Charisma
║6 – Intelligence
║5 – Agility (-)
║5 – Luck
╠Ｓｋｉｌｌｓ════════════════════════
║23 – Barter (Cha)
║15 – Danmaku (Agi)
║19 – Explosives (Per)
║15 – Guns (Agi)
║19 – Lockpick (Per)
║41 – Magic (Int)
║27 – Medicine (Int) (+)
║22 – Melee (Str) (+)
║43 – Outdoorsman (End) (+)
║17 – Science & Repair (Int)
║30 – Sneak (Agi)
║45 – Speech (Cha)
║[Note: Skills in bold are Tag skills.]
╠Ｔｒａｉｔｓ／Ｐｅｒｋｓ══════════════════
║What's in a Name – Acquire Karma at x2 rate.
║Animal Magnetism – Register more highly on animal's PER
║when not hidden; may affect disposition of animals & beast
║youkai.
║Chem Resistant – Chems work half as long, but are only half
║as addictive.
╟──────────────────────────────
║Bloody Mess – Things around you tend to die more messily;
║+5% damage.
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Note: Individual Traits, Perks, and Skills can by be scrutinized
║further; e.g., “[x] Pip-Fairy:Status:TRAIT_NAME”]
╚══════════════════════════════

─

Sunday, October 21, 2277
10:22 PM JST

[ ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA7.mp3 ]

Hello again, Touhou Project the magnificent. This is Anonymous, and I was hoping we could talk. Let's talk about authors, shall we. Or more specifically, your author, my dear Touhou Project. Anonymous. Just who is this Anonymous? Why, now that's simple! Anonymous is you, /th/. Anonymous is your imouto, your aniki, your bandwagon jumper, your producer of write-ins both great and terrible, and well, yes, Anonymous is me as well, of course. As your writefag, it is my responsibility to preside over our great CYOA. So, as your author, I must be the voice, the heart, and the soul of Anonymous. That is to say, I must be the voice, heart, and soul of you, Touhou Project. For it is only together—together—can we hope to reach our full potential. The way we were before the Great Migration. Whole. Beautiful. Powerful. One Anon, One Touhou Project. Now, and Forever!

But for now, my dearest Touhou Project, we must say farewell. For there is much work to be done, and the Anon never rests. Never. Until we meet again, this is your writefag, Anonymous, signing off.

Real updates tomorrow. Hopefully.

You and your sexy formatting as well as great use of special characters...

I look forward to the proper update

I think I've become gay for Fallout-writefag.

AWESOME.

Also...
>║Renko's Switchblade / 0.5 lb. / 45% CND / 11 DAM
>║➥The one-sided blade of this small knife is held by a spring.
>║When a button on the handle is pressed, the blade flips out
>║with a satisfying "snkt" sound. Ren claims it was used as an
>║actual prop in the classic film Twelve Angry Men,implying
>║that it has considerable history.
...This is either a dud, a red herring, or a hint that we have a good anti-youkai weapon on hand.
(Assuming it really is from that. Probably not, but who knows? Also, anything Americana and authentic ought to do well against youkai, hopefully, or at least as long as "history"-ness is measurable in quantity, and isn't a binary it-has-it-or-it-doesn't sort of thing. I suppose we'll find out if we get that far in reading the Wasteland Guide.)

bumping to remind writer he has readers waiting.

>>93662

I know. Working on it.

Is there an ETA on updates?

when I saw this I immediately thought of you guys.

>>94502
Mind explaining the laser eyes?

>>94514

Liberty Prime's laser beams.

>>94524
>Liberty Prime appears only in Fallout 3.
Ah, no wonder

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA8.mp3 ]

Shoving as much of the gear you had decided was necessary in your duffel, you sling Ren's backpack onto your shoulders, along with the strap to one of the laser rifles, then you hoist the duffel up and...

You hoist the duffel.

Hoist the duffel...!

No. It's no use. It's to be expected. One person isn't going to be able to carry the gear necessary to survive in the Wastes for three people. No, last time you tried that you lagged behind the others and were nearly eaten alive by a huge fucking ant. And as you have grown, so has the weight of the necessities. But you have one important advantage now that you didn't as a youth: Experience with performance-enhancing drugs.

That's right! What you need is a little Vitamin B₀! Buffout! Like donning a pair of PF Flyers, Buffout really can make you run faster and jump higher... but only for like fifteen minutes. After that, it's like a Jet crash: A very downward experience. Except more physical than emotional & attentional. Hoping that Ren left at least some useful chems in with the looted medical supplies rather than locking them in her attache or already having used them in the firefight, you find a single loose capsule of Buffout in the bottom of the bio-hazard bag. Dry-swallowing it, you wait a minute or two for the coating to dissolve in your stomach acid at which point the mixed sympathomimetics, steroids, and non-steroidal anabolics are released, immediately causing your gut to tighten. Good thing you haven't eaten anything since yesterday!

[ (⌬) Buffout x1 removed from inventory. ]
[ (⌬) You have ingested Buffout! (+3 STR, +3 END, +60 HP) ]

Flexing muscles you had forgotten about in their entirety, you easily heft the duffel bag up in one hand. The components of the drug that mimic the chemical signalers of situational stress result in afferent inhibition of the descending nociceptive pathway, meaning you can't feel the cells of your skeletal muscle tearing themselves apart. (Yet, anyway; for this and other stressors, you know there will be hell to pay come the morning.) Careful to deactivate the the laser flashlight on your Pip-Boy temporarily, you peel back the blinds slightly to confirm that the coast is clear, and that the red 'LOCKED' signs are still found on the majority of the residencies. Aside from the occasional sparks showered by blown-out lighting, this would likely be the most lighting you'll see on your way back to your dorm.

That tension in your stomach reminded you that you and the girls haven't eaten, despite that you probably can't eat anything at the present moment. The diner and the cafeteria were probably equidistant from this sector, but the diner was more likely to have ready-to-eat food, and since it was smaller, in the off-chance someone decided they would ignore the Vault-wide lock-down for a bite to eat, it would be much easier to flush them out. And frankly the atmosphere was just more comfortable. Mlle. Orleans—the automated doll who functions as proprietor—was a little too liberal with the mayonnaise (on French fries? Really?) and occasionally over-aggressive with the charbroiling of the beef, but 9-out-of-10 times the food was better than the stuff the cafeteria fairies put out. Butane may be an acquired taste, but with a big selection on the jukebox, an circulating assortment of refurbished arcade cabinets (you have standing high scores on Ms. Pac-Man, Dig Dug, and Burger Time), Nuka on tap, and the 'swank', prefabricated Art Deco diner stylings? It's definitely a choice you can live with. Your knotted stomach prevents you from salivating too hard about eating though, so you try to distract yourself by increasing your attentiveness to your surroundings.

Gee it sure is dark in this corridor with the lighting blown-out. Shadows jump out at you near the emergency lighting, and you avoid turning on your flashlight or stepping through the better-lit areas surrounding them due to the threat of detection.
“Dai, say something.”
“Edgy?”
“Yeah.”
“Stay calm and keep moving. Security fairies aren't trained to set-up ambushes. Fairies are naturally predisposed to panic attacks in total or near total darkness.”
“You're telling me nature spirits are afraid of the dark? That's fucked.”
“You possess an intrinsic magical ability to create balls of illumination at will, while also being acutely conscious of the causal association between nocturnal environs and psychogenic mortality, and then tell me how to not develop some kind of a complex from it.”
“Be on the lookout for fairy-fire then; any more tips?”
“Yeah, they're chatty in stressful situations, so you might just hear them before you can see them,” Dai responds wryly.
“Really?”
No response.
“So am I.”
“I've noticed,” sourly.
“Don't be like that. You're talking too.”
Exasperated grumbling.
“Come on. Talk to me about something magical. Teach. Instruct. Edif—”
“Alright, I will, now shut the hell up already!”
Hooray!

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA9.mp3 ]

“The Greek system, or the Hellenistic system, is an uncommon magical framework in Gensokyo. It comes with advantages and disadvantages. First of all, it's atomistic. While fire as an element as a substance exists in most traditional magical framework, in the Greek system, elemental fire can be reduced to discrete, individual particles. In other systems, elements are either properties of substances, rather than being substances in and of themselves. For example in Taoist dualism, things are yin or yang predominantly, while always being a combination of yin and yang in actuality. However, despite the yin and the yang being existent in all things, there is no substance which we can refer individually as yin or yang. Thus while they may be essential, they are not substantial elements. There is still substance itself to account for.”
“I know that in the Greek model, everything is made up of a combination of elements, but these elements have physically existent properties. Nothingness would be the lack of any of the elements, because then there is no substance.”
“Unlike the godai which considers Void an element, objects in Hellenistic systems do not have the property of nothingness, they simply aren't there. This is a limitation the Greek system, because it means the magic produced can only be either creative or modify an existing substance.”
“Conservation of matter and energy.”
“That applies to all magical systems, but is especially relevant in the Greek model. In other systems one can 'destroy' something by removing all its elemental properties, thus causing it to revert back to the primordial substance. The Neo-Confucians called this undifferentiated state wuji. Another manner of destroying substance was infusing it fully with the ineffable—Akasha, in the Indric system—or the unobservable—void, in the Japanese system. The Greeks however could not destroy that which was indivisible and unchanging by definition. Rather, the system has to be transformed into something unrecognizable, and to do this, the simplest way is often to add more elements to the system, to mask and scatter what is already there.”
“Right. That's the simple thing about Greek magic: You don't need to turn Air into Fire, you just need to add more Fire. Because of that, it's good for a quick evocation spell. Er, but doesn't this violate conservation law?”
“No, actually. It is a latter addition, but it's the law of conservation of matter and energy. Various forms of energy can be converted into magical elements, the first a magician learns being their own élan vital.”
“Life force, meaning. There's a lot of other sources of energy though.”
“Movement is all around us, Max. But be careful using magic in the Wastes, Max. Useful sources to draw on will be few and far between.”
“I don't plan on magically exhausting myself and going into psychogenic shock, Dai.”
“I'm just saying you aren't yet adapted to using radiation or sunlight for magical energy, so don't chance it. If you take in too much energy without being able to transform it properly, it could be disastrous.”
“I know.” Mana burn: The leading cause of spontaneous human combustion.
“But getting back to the elements. Didn't the Greeks have their own undifferentiated substance? The primordial chaos that existed before the Gods?”
“Yes, the same Leviathan that God brought low in the Christian creation myth—which is just one of many similar stories. In Hesiod's Theogony, Chaos was the universe prior to its creation. Χάος, in Greek. Remember it. It's important.”
“So there's a sixth element I have to take into consideration? I hardly know anything about the fifth.”
“No, no. Chaos is not an element. Remember, all existent things are made up of elements in differing proportions. This proportionality of elements determines what a thing is. Substance gives rise to form.”
“Sure, but that begs the question: What about Chaos? Is it the form created from mixing equal proportions of each element? Wouldn't that just cause an explosion?” Combining opposed elemental polyhedra causes an energy reaction, with light as the product (typically represented by a sphere in Platonic schema). Of course by slow emulsion, it is possible to combine water and fire less explosively, where most of the light energy is diffused in the surrounding mixture, generating heat, and this depends on the relative proportions of each element.
“Yes, like an acid-base reaction. However, remember that acid-base reactions can be controlled to produce a novel precipitate. Moreover, in the Greek elemental system, you have more than two opposing qualities. Not acid-base, but cool-warm and wet-dry.”
“Making the question of what 'Chaos' could be even more unanswerable. Even if the qualities could cancel out completely, without exploding, then you'd just be left with æther. The Standard Model already has a substance without qualities; it doesn't need another.”
“Yes, but you don't have a substance without form.”
“What does that even mean? Substance gives rise to form. You just said that.”
“Gives rise to. Think about Big Bang cosmology, the Theory of Everything, Grand Unified Theory.”
“I'm not a physicist; that's Ren's purview.”
“Well, long story short, at one point in the universe, there were not the four independent, fundamental forces that we're all familiar with today. Due to the extremely high energies, electromagnetism, weak, strong nuclear, and gravity were merged into one all-dominating, unified force. Think of it as a Universal phase change.”
“So according to this 'phase change' metaphor, we're in a solid universe now, but it used to be a liquid universe, and before that a gaseous universe, and originally a plasmic universe?”
“To extend the metaphor further, all these states of matter have qualitatively different properties, even if they're chemically the same matter. But all these 'phase changes' rather than representing different states of matter, represent different states of energy. In this 'phase' for example, light interactions are governed by the electromagnetic force rather than the combined electroweak force—the conditions of which we have created experimentally for short amount of time, by the way.”
“But that just puts the nail in the coffin for chaotic matter, at least in the present. The energies are simply too low. Otherwise we would readily be able to see and create new mixed elements—fire-air... earth-water...”
“Tell me, Max, why did you pair fire & air? And why earth & water?”
“It just seems natural to pair elements with shared qualities than opposing qualities.”
“There's a reason they teach you these qualities; they're not just academic trivia. When you're ready, you'll understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Important extensions to the Classical model. Later developments like paraelemental and quasielemental theory, eventually leading to Alchemy. As well as earlier theories: The Prima materia, the first substance. The concept that the Pythagoreans would attribute all evils to, the απειρων, or apeiron, the indeterminate totality, which could be said to be the opposed 'element' to the æther that makes up the heavens. There is the World Egg which sprung from Xάος, and the ἀρχή or arche that made it happen....”
“Well, shit.” While you have a firm handle on the four material elements, even your experience with æther is mostly theoretical. But these are levels of complexity you were unprepared for. Guess that's what happens when you decide to focus on the elemental framework that looks the most basic. “Looks like I've still got a long, longs way to go.”
“You can do it, Max. You may be of only moderate intelligence, but you have excellent tutors and a substantial repository of resources. Oh, and you're half-kirin. Don't forget that.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
The Pip-Fairy gives you a shrug. “Who knows? Maybe it accounts for your magical aptitude or your ability to absorb tomes quickly? They are spirits symbolizing enlightened rule, after all.”
While you're not a particularly fast reader, you do blaze through grimoires with laudable speed and comprehension. You always assumed you just had a hyperfocusing subtype of ADD.
Ah, vindication.

[ (ॐ) You have unlocked a new racial trait: Enlightened Comprehension.]

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA10.mp3 ]

The diner.
All the lights are still on—strange, considering the lock-down order. Place is definitely clear of customers, though.
“Patron identified. Welcome... Mssr. Rockatansky to... Café du Monde! Would you like to hear our... late night specials?”
An animated doll itself is a tiny thing, housed in the clear dome 'head' of the metal contraption, in this case a hovering Lil' Miss Handy utility model. From your understanding, it was the dolls themselves that housed the magic and the AI for control of their robot exoskeletons, which were operated through a series of extremely fine control wires attached to micro-motor interfaces on the doll's 'hands'. In this way, the robot shell is the puppet, having no intrinsic intelligence itself, while the doll controller is the puppet master. Naturally, this makes animated dolls multi-role AIs, as the doll could be moved from frame to frame quite easily: A doll could be in a custodial frame for most of the time, but as long as it was sufficiently programmed for the role, it could just as easily be put in a Protectron frame and used for security. Moreover, since mechanical failure was a constant problem as the models are pushed further and further past their service life, the modular design was very useful in reducing wear, which was accomplished by the simple procedure of cycling frames.
“No thanks, Orleans. I'll have three coffees. To go. With milk.” You try to sound the syllables distinctly, so the doll doesn't get anything wrong. The dolls themselves for the most part did not move much, and contain all the magic that they will need to operate the frame, so there was practically no upper limit on AI lifespan. There is the conjecture of AI senescence, but to be honest you weren't all that familiar with the details. You'll leave that stuff for the eggheads. In fact, you've never seen a doll operating outside its enclosure frame, so it's perfectly plausible that they needed them to function.
“3x Café au lait. Would you like any... beignets with that?” Those oddly-shaped doughnut things—part of the diner's eclectic fare.
“No. Is the grill still open?”
“For you, Mssr. Rockatansky, the grill is always open.” A gout of flame erupts from the torch arm of the doll toward the ceiling. The chrome is blackened in some places from this. “Ha-ha-ha.” That laugh doesn't get any less creepy.
“Okay. Lemme get two Chicago-style hot dogs. To go.” For Ren.
“2x boiled beef franks... dragged through the garden with nuclear relish! Anything... else?”
“One Taylor ham, egg & cheese. To go.”
“1x pork roll, fried egg, cheese on kaiser roll. Any... toppings?”
“Just ketchup & mustard.”
“À le ketchup et moutarde. Anything... else?”
“Uh, um... a Jucy Lucy?” Jesus, I hope Mary still has the palate of 12-year-old.
“1x flame-broiled... cheese-infused hamburger! Any... toppings?
“Ketchup & lettuce. Hold the pickle. Also to go.”
“À le ketchup et laitue pommée. Sans cornichon. Anything... else?”
“That's it.”
”Would you like any French... fries with that?”
“No thanks Orl—“
”Of course you would.”
“Fine.” Whatever.
“For here or to go?”
“To go.”
“For here. Tabulating food credits...”
“I said 'to go'!”
”Allez cuisine!”
Tch.
”Your order will be right out... monsieur.”
You grab the offered receipt out of doll's fine manipulator arm, tearing it in half in the process. Seconds too late, the pincers open, leaving the other half to flutter to the floor.
“Don't... forget your receipt.”
“I'm the only goddamn person here!”
”Incorrect.”
Sometimes you wish the dolls were alive just so you could choke the life out of them.
“Who's here! Come out with your hands up!” You shoot at the ceiling twice for emphasis.
”Please refrain from discharging your firearm, s'il vous plaît.“ Jesus Christ, where did it get that butcher's knife from?
“You shut the fuck up and get back in the fucking kitchen!” You turn the rifle on the now-armed doll,
”Command override enabled. Returning to... service duties.”
“Max calm the fuck down.” Dai. “You're experiencing 'roid rage.”
'Roid rage? 'Roid rage! Oh. The Buffout. Right.
“I'm a cool cucumber.”
“That's right, Max. You're a cool cucumber. Deep breaths.”
“I'm a cool cucumber. I'm a cool cucumber.” You sling the rifle on your shoulder and cup your hands to amplify your voice, “Little fairy or whoever that's hiding in diner, you want to come out while I'm still calm.”
“Okay! Please don't shoot!” A meek and familiar voice from under one of the nearby tables.
“Sera?” It's that little one from before; no wonder you didn't notice her hiding. “Have you been following me? Again?” You demand, suspicious.
“B-b-but you told me to come here!”
“I did?”
“Yessir! To see the purple haired lady?”
“Meira?” Right. You did. “The entire Vault is under lock-down. Why aren't you in your quarters?”
“I was trapped here when the notice went out, and there was yelling and gunfire, and the fairy dorm is...” The fairy checks herself, hastily making a bow at an absurd angle, as if it were well practiced. “I'm sorry; I have no excuse, sir!”
“No. That's okay. You don't have to apologize. I'm the one who should be sorry.”
“Sir?”
“I meant, I must have given you a terrible fright.”
“It's nothing, sir. It's perfectly reasonable being suspicious of... other people. Given your present situation, sir.”
Her reassurances make you feel worse. “What is my present situation, Sera?”
The fairy clears her throat, seeming to word her reply carefully. “Your... present situation, sir?”
“Yeah. What does it look like has happened to me? From the perspective of other Vault residents?”
“Truthfully, sir... I cannot speak for others, so this is not necessarily representative... but to me?”
“Go on.”
She counts on her fingers as she rattles off a laundry list of incidents you've recently been involved with. “You recently were admitted to the hospital because of a drug overdose that should have killed you but didn't; you called security on the leader of the Tunnel Snakes, then conned them in order to bust her out; you challenged the Overseer to duel—and totally wiped the floor with her!” Nervous laughter and a cough. “Um... you've been in the possession of restricted magical texts; you and your friends have put half the security force in traction, and you seem to be keen on doing the same to the other half. By all outward appearances, sir, it looks like you've...” Her voice shrinks down to its meekest, and she shrugs, “Gone completely insane?”
“Yes. Yes. That sounds about right.”
“Sir?”
“I just needed to hear it out loud, is all.”
”Your order is ready for pick-up, monsieur.”
“Right. Just a moment, Orleans. You still have that tray, Sera?”
“The one you wanted me to bring to the purple-haired woman, right?” She asks rhetorically, then nods, meaning that she's yet to meet the samurai woman.
“Well, there's something else.” You crouch down to unzip the overstuffed duffel bag at your feet. “It is dangerous to go alone. Take this.”
“A sword?”
“It's the purple-haired woman's. Meira's. Give it back to her when you ask her to take you to Miss Ellen.”
“Yes, sir!”

[ (⚔) Meira's [i]wakizashi removed from inventory. ][/i]
[ (☯) You have gained +50 Karma. ]

“Also... sanitize these top secret documents.” Top secret documents aren't usually bound with a ribbon, but this gives you plausible deniability in case they show up again somewhere. To be honest, you couldn't care less about Ren's street cred—not when there's a good possibility you both might not make it back alive anyway.
“Sanitize?”
“With fire.”
“With fire, sir! Can do!”

[ (✉) Ren's poetry removed from inventory. ]
[ (☯) You have gained -20 Karma. ]

Sera does everything but salute you. Wow, ordering fairies around is a lot more fun than you thought it would be. Maybe you could get used to this?
”Did someone say... fire?” A column of flame erupts between you and Sera, giving you a start and drawing a surprised yelp from the fairy. ”Ha-ha-ha-ha.”
That reminds you. “Orleans, you don't have any security duties are you?”
”Negative, monsieur. This unit was phased out of security service due to unacceptably high morbidity of Vault personnel.”
“Morbidity?”
“Perpetrator 150-⑨-1003: burn injury, fourth degree. Perpetrator 150-⑨-5927: bisected vertebrae. Perpetrator 150-⑨-7101: dislocated eye. Perpetrator 151-⑨-3772: clavicle, multiple fractur—“
“Okay, that's good enough,” waving away the daft robot. “Look Sera, it might be best if you hunkered down here until the Overseer gives the all-clear. Dolls in Protectron armor will probably be sent out tomorrow morning, so keep your head down. Okay?”
The fairy looks up at you, glances at the creepy robot hovering by the side, and nods uncertainly.
“Dai, can you override Orleans programming?”
The Pip-Fairy seems to hesitate, as to whether that's because you're in the middle of a conversation with someone who isn't supposed to be aware of her existence or because she's just hacking the robot's command registry is an open question.
“...Yes.” Audio only. “Just tell it what you want it to do.”
“Orleans. Guard Sera and this diner until the Overseer relieves the lock-down.”
“Command override engaged. Oui, commandant.”

[ (☯) You have gained +20 Karma. ]

“You don't have to... I mean, I can...” The fairy looks at the robot again, lets her shoulders droop and sighs in resignation. “Who were you talking to on your Pip-Boy, sir?”
You put your hands on fairy's shoulders and attempt to reassure her with your best fake smile. “Have no fear, little one. Surely, the God of Vault ⑨ is watching over us both.”
“Sir! Of course, sir! Good luck, sir.”

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA11.mp3 ]

“Pffft... Hahaha!” Ren has a bit more color in her face, laughing raucously as she jabs the auto-injector into her exposed thigh.

[ (☤) x1 Med-X removed from inventory. ]
[ (☯) You have gained +20 Karma. ]

“I can't believe you gave her a cheesy line like that with a straight face.” Mary shakes her head, sipping a can of Kirin-brand synthetic beer, now dressed in the same chemise she wore to bed last night.
“Well, I thought it sounded pretty cool at the time.”
“I bet it did... to her.” Ren tosses the empty syringe across the room; it rebounds off the wall and into the wastebasket below. “Kid was probably seeing twinkling stars and soap bubbles in the background.”
Mary affects a wistfulness in her voice, “Poor fairy. Tonight she'll lie awake in her bed, longing to be with her prince. 'Oh, If only I were a real little girl! Then I could experience being penetrated by his big, thick pleasure hamm—'“
“You've got a mouth that would make sailors blush, Mary. Ol' Maxey here is just good at making the vacuous sound meaningful.”
“That's about all he's good for.”
“Hey.” Tsun tsun, Mary.
“Sorry, Max. Mary is being excessively cruel. Surely we can think of a few other things? After all, who provided us with this sumptuous feast?”
“Food synthesizers. We won't find too many of those in the Wastes, unfortunately.”
“Goddammit, Ren! He stalked that synthesizer in the wilderness for hours in order to put food on this table!”
My table is being used to barricade the door, Mary. This is my bed.
“Yes. He hunted it using a bow and arrows with suction cups on the end.”
“It was a clean kill—ow! What the fuck?”
Now it's your turn to laugh. “One cheese-infused hamburger, madam... oiselle?”
“That was a nasty trick, Max!”
“Heh. Poor Mary never even made it out of the Vault. Met her end at the hands of a berserk robot.”
Hamming it up, “How did it happen, Ren? Laser blast? Plasma torch?”
“No.” Ren pauses for dramatic effect. “Cheese-filled hamburger.”
Hahahaha!
“Alright, laugh it up you two jokers. Geez.”
Mary cleans the greasy mess running down her hand and arm in way that gives you funny feelings down below, but any further sexual thoughts are interrupted by the Pip-Fairy.
“You've got a little schmutz on your face, Max.”
“Oh, thanks Dai.”
You wipe the side of your mouth with a napkin. Seems it was a bit of ketchup.
“Heh. You really pulled through, Maxey, though the shrieking and laser fire was a little disturbing; for a minute there, I thought we were gonna have dine with Duke Humphrey.”
“Hubert Humphrey? I thought he was a President?” Not quite, Mary.
“'Go hungry'?” Ren tries to explain her idiosyncratic phraseology.
“Not likely. I think he was rather rotund actually.”
“Nevermind. You're right Mary. He was the President. Almost.”
“Oh? Oh, riiiight. 'Humphrey Defeats Truman.' I knew that.” Mary nods to her own words with affected sagacity.
“What did you just say?”
“Ren, calm, diaphragmatic breathing. She's just—”
Laughing. “Ahahahaha! You should see your sour puss, Ren!”
“Bustin' my chops, is what she's doing.”

[ (⌬) You are experiencing Buffout withdrawal. (-1 STR, -1 END) ]

Ugh. You finish eating the last bit of your sandwich, and you start to work on the sack of French fries. Although the psychological aftereffects are minimal, eating is the one important thing you should do during a Buffout come-down. Your body starts to catabolize itself if it doesn't get enough calories, and Buffout markedly increases your metabolic rate. That there are such effective drugs for weight loss is part of the reason that the obesity epidemic in the mid- to late-twentieth century has been all but cured. Of course, in the Vault the population has had the benefit of a restricted diet. That, rather than rationing for lack of foodstuffs, is the reason why there is a 'credit' system in place at the diner, cafeterias, and vending machines, although you can use greenbacks to buy home-made food in some places where it is sold, like the 'open air' market in the fairy district.

[ (☕) Food ingested. Hunger relieved. (+30 hp) ]

“I have to say, you're both taking a hell of risk, throwing your lot in with me. I was wondering what you would have done had I not returned, and you had squadron of security dolls banging on the front door instead.”
“Well, they wouldn't get nothin' out of me anyway: D & D, 'til the day I die.”
“Is that right?” Sometimes Ren, you say things, and no one else has any idea what they mean.
“That's right. I'm true blue.”
“Is 'Dungeons & Dragons' such a serious matter, Ren?”
“What? No! 'Deaf and dumb.' It means I won't rat, Mary.”
“Mary, the same goes for you too: Whatever you feel you may owe Daiyousei or your friends, I can assure you that it's not worth your life.”
“Come on, Max. You know the phrase, 'in for a penny, in for a pound?' If we don't pull through on this, I'm dead man walking as far as public life in the Vault is concerned.”
“Well, if that's how it is, I won't say your help is not appreciated. Ren, there's something else I've been wondering.”
“Best speak your peace now then, before we're up to our ankles in radiation.”
“Well, that's just it. That packed bag in your closet; it looked well used.”
“Well-loved things tend to take a beating over the years, but they still work well enough when you really need them. Take, I don't know, our friendship for example?”
“That's awfully cold, Renko.”
“It is what it is, Maxey. I've learned not to expect otherwise.”
“Seems like a perfectly reasonable excuse for justifying one's own inaction.”
“Tu quoque, Max. I don't know if I hate this side of you, or if I just hate the way it makes me feel to talk to it.”
You can see Mary grinning lasciviously, apparently preparing to attack Renko from behind while you've got her distracted.
“How does it make you feel, Ren?”
“Like a fox being cornered by a rabbit.”
“Afraid?”
“No. Begins with an A, though.”
“Ashamed, then?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Angry?”
“I think you're getting warm.”
“Aroused?” Mary strikes, her hands snaking Ren's tank top, groping her breasts.
“Mary—!”
“What's with that lewd gasp, Usami?”
“...Cold.”
“Hmm?”
“Your fingers. They're co—oh!”
“I can't hear any complaints over the indecent moaning. Max, do you have any problems?”
“I see nothing objectionable.”
“Fufufufu... 'Deaf and dumb' huh? That's a lot of chutzpah coming from a girl who likes to moan so loudly.”
“How can I help it when—mn!”
“When I fondle you, you mean to say? I'll put it on your gravestone: Alas, poor Renko, her body was more honest than her mouth.”
“Don't say things like that.”
“Shut up,” Mary just takes her lips, looking at her in the eyes when she breaks it off. Before turning toward you. “What the hell are you doing?” She demands incredulously.
“I'm studying.” With two girls making out in front of you, it seems as good a time as any to crack the Liber de Nymphis. At least this way you won't get awkward questions if they notice it's filled with naughty pictures.
“Huh?”
“Well, it seems I did have objections after all.”
“...He's serious.” I wasn't as bad a student as you Renko. Not in my field of expertise at least.
“Ha ha ha, oh wow.” Mary tries to cajole you into joining in on the fun.
But you won't be dissuaded. “I am in fact, serious. I won't allow myself to be distracted. Indecent moaning, or otherwise.”
“That sounds almost like a challenge.” Mary seems intrigued by the prospect.
“Maybe it is?” You do have to get up early, and you need to prepare yourself better for the Wastes, but most of all, you know you won't be able to survive if the only thing your mind can focus on is filling these two girls with sperm. Other than the fact that Renko looks like an overripe tomato from her injuries, you can already feel your muscles eating themselves from that Buffout.
“Then we'll play it your way, Max.” Mary turns her attentions back on Renko.
“Huh?” Poor Renko. Mary is whispering something in her ear, probably scandalous considering the deep red flush of her skin. “In front of him?” Ren is predictably reticent about intimate affairs in front of Mary. That's what happens when you're in love, one supposes. It doesn't make you jealous; it's rather cute, actually.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA12.mp3 ]

THE PHILOSOPHY OF THEOPHRASTUS CONCERNING THE GENERATION OF THE ELEMENTS
Book I, Text I

In the beginning, Iliaster, which is nothing, was divided, thus giving and arranging the four elements. It was even as the seed which springs from the stem. What the seed gives forth it does not receive into itself in the same form again. But this Iliaster again attracts itself to the four elements. Thus, that is dissolved becomes what it was before the four elements were produced, provided only one year of the world has elapsed. The four elements are the growth produced by the Iliaster. And the seed does not give those very things from which the infant is produced after this year of the world; but the four elements are both mothers and daughters. Of this family nothing is found surviving after death; but its end is the same as its origin; and so whatever is in it perishes at the same time. Although another world follows after, which is like the daughter of this one in name, still, it is not so in essence, in form, or the like. For this will not pass away, but will remain like the soul, which is indeed made and created but not mortal. Such is also the lot of this world....

“Ahn~!”
Got no time for love, Dr. Jones!
You continue reading, entering a flow state where you manage to shut out the environment around you. Time passes.

...Now we will add a true story concerning a Nymph of Stauffenberg. She was of marked beauty and took her seat by the roadside waiting for the master whom she had chosen for herself. These things, it is true, are thought by some theologians to be mere mockeries and trickeries of the Devil—not however by true theologians. What can be more important in the Scriptures than to neglect nothing, to weigh everything honestly and faithfully, to digest with a sober and attentive judgement, to scrutinize everything every where with accuracy, and to despise nothing unknown.¹ Whence it is clear that these persons lightly and supinely pass over these things, being ignorant of the truth, and pleading detersions of the Devil though the Devil himself is not known to them.² It should be reflected that such marvels are permitted by God to the end that we may not all of us marry and live with Nymphs, but only one here and one there, so that the wonderful works of God among his creatures may be revealed and a surer knowledge of them spread abroad. Had these been the works of the Devil, doubtless they had deserved contempt. But they are not. The Devil cannot do such things, but only God. But let us return to our story. This Nymph had been a Water Nymph,³ and had married this citizen of Stauffenberg already mentioned. Many other events of like nature have occurred, but by an evil example are passed over with contempt. From which the signal folly of men is abundantly clear.

¹ Paracelsus here shows a clear influence of Aristotelian naturalism in his religious views. The idea that science and reason were not only compatible with belief in God, but that they in fact pointed to His existence, has been the backbone of the discipline of natural theology since the days of Aquinas. Moreover, the rehabilitation of the pre-Messianic Greek thinkers becomes possible through the idea that one could arrive at faith in God, and hence the gift of the Holy Spirit, through spontaneous introspection.
² There is a clear tendency in Christian folklore to consider nature spirits as having more in common with the lost paradise of Eden than with Hell, and they are seldom lumped in with the demons or the fallen. This likely underscores a basal desire of humanity to return to the earthly Paradise which we have been barred from.
³ An undine, meaning. Paracelsus makes the distinction because a spirit of water, rather than one embodying composite elements, like a wood dryad, fits well into his view that because the base elements are closer to the original creation, and therefore God, they are more worthy of study and exultation than more mundane substances.

That's enough. You'll stop here for now. You were able to finish the introduction at least. A lot of Christian stuff for a magical text, but guess that's to be expected when it's been annotated by a saint. There's no way of knowing how much you've 'learned' from it because learning magic is very much an unconscious process, but you can feel the unfamiliar and untapped magic potential still in the dusty tome. The reason such works are restricted is less because they are inherently dangerous or contain forbidden magicks or such, but because their dissemination would weaken their magic. The occult is given power by nature of obtaining privileged and esoteric knowledge. Learning magic is a transcendental process. Whether the information in the book is 'correct' or not is immaterial, and the retention of the words in memory are likewise unimportant; similarly, rereading the same material does not advance one's magical ability. Rather, by the time you're done reading it, you will possess a subtly different magical worldview. Whether this change in observer bias is the learning of magic or whether it is an epiphenomenon of some deeper process is a question you'll leave to the philosophers and academics.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA13.mp3 ]
[ (⚚) Reading the [i]Liber de Nymphis has increased your magic skill by 2! ][/i]

“Zzzz...” Mary is snoring in Ren's arms, who is herself smoking a cigarette and staring at the ceiling with a stupid smile on her face.
“Can't believe you read through that thing while two girls were getting it on in your bed.”
“Alpha brainwaves, man. Miss Ellen taught me to use biofeedback techniques when studying. Anyway, that snoring is worse than the moaning.”
“Huh? Yeah. Maybe.” Obviously she doesn't mind it at all. Ren flicks a few ashes on your floor. With all the shell casings and blood already on it, it's hard to rebuke her for using it as an ashtray. “This is nice.”
“It sure sounded like it was nice.”
“That's not what I mean, blockhead. I mean this.” She makes a sweeping gesture with the lit cigarette in her hand. “That we're so comfortable with each other that this sort of thing isn't... a big deal, ya' know?” She takes a sip of her (by now) lukewarm coffee, and looks you in the eyes.
The effect of seeing someone mid-afterglow can be powerful. You can't help but adopt a similarly stupid-looking grin. “Yeah, it is nice, isn't it?”
“Mm,” she gunts, nodding in agreement, and breaks off eye contact to turn back toward the ceiling.
“Well, don't get too comfortable. I need your help.”
“I don't know Max; I'm pretty tuckered out. Mary already kinda put me through the wringer already...” She frowns apologetically.
“Now it's my turn to call you a blockhead, blockhead. Come on. Get up. It's important.”
“Alright. Gimme a sec. Gotta untangle myself here.” She quickly throws the gray tank top and underwear back on under the bedsheets.
You start gathering up Mary's discarded clothes. The heavily-pleated red hakama. The white, loose, mid-rift baring kimono shirt, and its detached sleeves. The star-spangled, navy blue short coat—half traditional haori, half varsity-style jacket. The white tabi and the American flag neckerchief. Everything but the bindings and the bloomers.
“God, it's even more ridiculous looking when it's not being worn. I don't know how she puts this stuff on every morning.”
“Hmm? What are we looking at here? You take a sudden interest in costume design?”
“Sort of.” You're quite lost here, actually, and you're hoping Ren can do what's necessary on her own. “I have an idea, but I don't know how to go about putting it into a reality. I don't even know if it's feasible.”
“Well, what kind of idea is it?”
Unzipping the duffel bag full of junk, you start rooting through it, and putting what looks useful into a pile near Mary's clothes. A combat helmet. Velcro strips. Ren's sewing kit. You grab one of the FSVs and start dissembling it into its respective components.
“Ah ha. I like it. Combat miko.” Took the words right out of my mouth, Ren.
“Is there any way to turn this mess into something that's wearable, protective, and still gives some indication of her station?”
“Well, we won't know until we try. I'll need to get her dimensions. Hand me the sewing kit; there's a body tape measure in there.”
“Here.”
“One other thing. The Velcro has a heat-applied backing. You have an iron, Maxey?”
“No, but I do have a heat source,” pointing to the lump of coagulated slag in the corner of your room and pulling. “If you turn down the intensity dial, you should be able to heat the glue just enough.”
“Hand me over your pink gaygun. I mean, your pink ray-gun. You hypermasculine stud, you.”
You hand her the Princess' Smile which she fires at the wall once. Then she adjusts the focus and fires again. It doesn't leave a mark the second time.
“You might want to hit the hay, Maxey; it's ten to twelve.” You check your Pip-Boy. Exactly 11:50 PM. Her ability to tell the time without so much as glancing at her Pip-Boy display has always been a little bit creepy. “Not much you can do to help me with this stuff. I got some Christmas Trees in the suitcase if you need 'em.” Tuinals. Heavy-duty, barbiturate sleeping pills.
You look at the snoring Maribel. “Guess that bath will have to wait for our glorious return to the Vault. Still, I've got to bathe yet, and I have to seal the door properly if I'm to get any deep sleep.”
“Suit yourself. I'm used to running on Jet, caffeine, nicotine, and very little else. Uh, you did get my cigs, right?”
“Sure did. A full carton of your Luckies are in the bag.”

[ (☠) Carton of cigarettes removed from inventory.]
[ (☯) You have gained -20 Karma.]

“Aces. 'It's Toasted,' you know?”
“So I've heard.”
It's interesting to see someone talk, smoke, and hold pins in her mouth all at nearly the same time, while not giving up any of the flair that normally accompanies each action individually.
“Maxey, you ever think about taking up the habi—“
“No.” Keep your cancer sticks.
“Direct your feet to the Lucky side of the street—“
“No.” I only abuse real drugs.
“For mildness and flavor—”
“No.” Get thee behind me Satan.
She puffs a plume of tobacco in your face. Stay cool Maxey, she's just trying to get a rise out of you.
“Fine.” Finally Renko sighs in defeat. “I might need to cut some stuff up to do this. You have any spare jumpsuits?” She says this while articulating the limbs of the unconscious Maribel, manhandling the sleeping girl in the process of getting her exact dimensions.
“There are a few in the closet. Knock yourself out. Taking that shower now. Hand me your shirt in the bag; should let the wrinkles fall out.” You gather your own pajamas and a shirt hanger from your closet, as well as the white shirt you'd picked out when Ren hands it to you. As you approach the hall, the display turns from red to green, and the door slides open. The desk that was 'bracing' it falls over into hallway with a loud thump. “Yeah, that probably wasn't the brightest way to barricade the door.”
Ren giggles and then coughs. “Heh. When the zombie revolution occurs, you'll be the first against the wall, Maxey.”
“I for one welcome our undead overlords. They might eat your brains, but they won't drop nukes on your population centers either.”
Dragging it back into your room, you set it on its side toward the door as Ren had it before during the firefight. You can hear her talking to herself as you leave the room: “If I sew the tabi into stockings, I can add amulet pouches to the thighs....”
The door closes behind you.
“Well, look at her go. I didn't realize cigarettes had so many vitamins.”
“People can become pretty industrious when they're motivated by love, Dai.”

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA14.mp3 ]

“Hey.”
Grumble.
“Hey.”
Shut up.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“Are you gay?”
Exasperated, “No, Dai. I'm bathing.”
“You can tell me. As your guardian, I think I have a right to know.”
“I really hope this isn't the discussion I think we're having.”
“You had an opportunity back there. Why didn't you... you know?”
“That’s none of your business; I’m surprised you have the nerve to ask me that, honestly.” Dai is the person you'd least expect to give you guff because you threw Renko a bone.
“I understand. You’re shy.”
“I am not.” I wouldn't be having this conversation in a shower stall with you if that were the case.
“You’re blushing!”
“I'm taking a hot shower,” you mutter through clenched teeth. Today was a long day, and by the number on the display—12:08 AM—it looks like tomorrow will be even longer.
“But really, I understand, you have performance anxiety. It’s a terribly common concern. Maybe not for most men your age, but I guess you could think of it as being an early bloomer!”
“Sounds more like an early witherer.”
“Yep.” The fairy stretches and yawns on the display. “One moment you’re desperately shaving your head so no one will notice that you’re balding, the next your prostate’s swollen to the size of a grapefruit, and you can’t pee standing up anymore!”
You sigh. “Probably a good thing I’ll die before I reach anywhere near senescence.”
“Oh, don’t be so morbid, Max. I didn’t not-raise you for twenty miserable years just so you could die in glorious battle. No, I’m quite certain of it, you have at least another miserable twenty to go—maybe even more!”
“Speaking of the passage of time, I'll be expecting back birthday presents. September 22nd, in case you forgot.”
“I course I remember your birthday; it's the autumnal equinox. Didn't you get those monogrammed huckabacks last year?”
“Oh.” Guess the pervasion of commodities with 'MR' inscribed on them is more than a serendipitous coincidence of initials with deceased Vault denizens. 'Marcellus Rockefeller' I hardly knew ye.
You turn the water down to just a trickle, and rub the condensation off a face-sized part of the steel stall siding to use as a mirror. Placing a new blade in your butterfly safety razor, you begin a ritual that affirms one's masculinity more than any amount of sex in the world: A proper shave. Wetting the shave brush and using it to work the soap into a lather, you apply the foamy mess to your stubble-ridden visage. Very short strokes, pausing every few seconds to rinse hair and soap off the blade.
“I might die tomorrow. My friends might die tomorrow. I don't think things are so grim as to expect that outcome, but I can't ignore the possibility.”
The Pip-Fairy sighs. “Yeah.”
“You have a lot riding on this too.”
“I'm sorry. I'm very selfish.”
“You want to hold her in your arms again, don't you? How could that possibly be selfish?”
No response. You don't need to look away from your makeshift shaving mirror to know what expression she's wearing, so you'll change the subject:
“I was reading the Liber de Nymphis really, but I saw enough. You know Renko how looks at her, Dai. I want Ren to get what she wants, and I want Mary to get what she needs.”
“What about what you need, Max? What do you want?”
You sigh. You just nicked yourself. The cut is so clean you can't even feel it, despite the soap.
“Who can say?” You sigh. “All I know is that it ain't here.” And immediately regret it for not appreciating your life here.
“Oh, Max. You're young yet. You don't need to have all the answers. It's enough that you care about the people around you.”
“I wonder. Do you believe in God, Dai?” You ask, eager to change the topic of discussion again.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA15.mp3 ]

“Um, that came out of the blue.” The Pip-Fairy pauses to think or computer or parse or whatever. “Well, in as much as I believe in the power of faith to affect reality, yes, I suppose I do. Why do you ask?”
“In the Liber de Nymphis, it talked a lot about God and nature and elements, some of which tried to explain the existence of fey creatures in a Christian cosmology.”
“The Liber de Nymphis and other restricted texts are not scanned electronically and as such contain information I am not privy to as Vault AI. I think I can guess what it said, though, in keeping with traditional medieval scholasticism. Most important to the tacit acceptance of fairies into a Christian cosmology I think is the association with Nature and therefore Eden, the Biblical paradise that humans lost entry to by partaking of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. In the Bible, Eden is not destroyed, but guarded against all encroachment. In this way, the fey have a niche to fill. Unlike the demons who opposed man, or the fallen who opposed God, they are neutral entities created by God. Of course the invocation of God could be used as a weapon against them, not from possessing any demonic essence, but simply—“
“Genesis 3:21—Be fruitful, and multiply, and have dominion over the fish in the sea, over the birds in the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.”
“Superb, Max!”
“Yeah?” Done shaving, you turn the water off completely, and wait a few minutes in the steaming stall to drip dry.
“Yes, but that's Genesis 1:30, by the way.”
“I just picked a random number... so, moving forward, in a Christian context, fairies could be taken to be original inhabitants of the Garden of Eden. Ones that were formed in his image, as the angels were, and then later the humans, but presumably were not given free will?”
“Well, things get mucky when you start drawing inferences out of categories that have been assigned by a guy who is omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, and inherently unknowable. Lucifer was an angel; if he didn't have free will, how could he defy God? That kind of thing—let's not go down that road of discussion. But yes, serious thoughts of a Pre-Adamite race have existed since the Renaissance. Basically, though, the fairies got no beef with the Lord and are in general direct results of His creation, speaking in a Judeo-Christian context of course; doesn't stop some of them from not liking humans much, however.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Nature is cruel, and the forests are dangerous for little children? I don't know; blame allegory.”
“Alright, it makes sense from an Occidental perspective, but what what about the East? Why were there fairies here, long before Christendom even had a foothold?”
“Because you can find the same trope in every culture. Eden could just as easily be the legendary Japanese Land of Hourai or the Tibetans' mountain paradise of Shangri-La; the Greeks had Atlantis, which hid itself from the world after discovering the horrors war; the Britons had Avalon, resting place of their Once and Future King; the Romans, their Arcadia; the Scandinavians had Fensalir, terrestrial abode of Frigg; the Rus had the Invisible Town of Kitezh, which hid itself to escape the Mongols; the Slavs had Buyan, the mysterious island where Koschei the Deathless keeps his phylactery. The list goes on-and-on.”
“But do they really exist? Like Gensokyo does, or did, rather?”
“Sure. In fact, I've been to some of them in my dreams. When I still had dreams that is. But, with the collapse of the Border, fairies can't see Fey proper anymore.”
“Fey? Isn't that where all the fairies originally came from?”
“Not quite. It's more that it's where all fairies would eventually wind up. The Fairyland, or simply Fey, is a bordered magical region. Originally it was known in Irish as Tír na nÓg, which was itself formed of a number of smaller, bordered regions called sídhe that were buried underground in Ireland, as the result of the war between the humans and the noble fairy race, the Tuatha Dé Danann. The sídhe became one of many leylines and gateways into Fey, which by then had become the sum of the legends attributed to fairy-kind.”
“But haven't fairies existed since ancient times in other cultures? There's elves and dwarfs in Scandinavian mythology.”
“I'm getting to it, Max.”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Eventually, as more and more peoples and tribes were subsumed into the Isles and Christianity took hold, there became a need for a place like Gensokyo for the fey themselves, as well as for the indigenous peoples, who under Christianity would be either forced abandon their folk legends wholly, lest they fear purges over heathenism & idolatry or, worse yet, allow the Church to disastrously lump them together with the demonic. The Roman Church however, was much like the Roman Empire, in those days; they would conquer other peoples utterly, demand absolute loyalty, but would otherwise allow them to either ascribe their folk beliefs to various personifications of nature or of the gifts of God; one prime example being the Muses, and other figures of ancient Hellenistic religion that would survive the ban of paganism. We would see this again happen with the ever increasing presence of Marian veneration, who served as a surrogate for peoples in need of a Mother Goddess, as well as saintly and angelic veneration, which would be an outlet for the desire for a patron, a personalized divinity. But I'm getting ahead of myself: Point is, some gods and goddess who once ruled pantheons could be transformed into the kings and queens of the fairy courts.”
“If you can't beat 'em, join 'em?”
“At the other end of the stick, you have demonized entities. Baal is a good example of an outside god turned into a demon—now adverse beings to the humans who formerly worshiped them. But hey, if it's between existing and not existing, I'll take the scorn of the entire world over oblivion any day of the week. For the myths and legends that would survive the conversion to Christendom, however, they rode the wave as it passed throughout the world, disseminating throughout the known world and influencing the legends and folk beliefs of widely disparate peoples. Fey became a massive collection of cultural influences and had in-roads to every large population on earth. You ever wonder why fairies sleep, even though they don't have to?”
“Yes, actually. I mean, I can understand food, because it tastes good, but as far I know fairy's sleep instinctively, so it can't just be explained as simple mimicry of human behavior.” Stepping out of the stall, you start toweling off the excess water in your hair and on your body.

[ (♨) You have bathed. Disease resistance is temporarily improved. ]

“The reason for it is because when fairies dream, they visit Fey, or at least that's how it used to work. From Fey, you could visit any other sleeping fairy or go to any place inhabited by fairies. Like an amusement park you could visit any time you wish. Nowadays, we don't sleep as soundly. Many fairies seem to lack the creative capacity to dream meaningfully on their own. There's research that suggests that the time spent in REM sleep and the intensity of the sleep is inversely related to cognitive function and well-being for fairies. This is the exact opposite of what you'd expect in humans. There was a disastrous phase I clinical trial using REM deprivation in order to reverse intractable cases of psychodegenerative syndrome. 50% mortality in the test group compared to the placebo group's 10%.”
“Jesus.”
“That was a clusterfuck. Yue could probably tell you more, but she just as likely to staple your nuts to her desk for bringing it up. She was a researcher on the project.”
“I'll be sure to tread lightly around the subject. Surprised she set up shop in the fairy district.”
“Fairies don't hold it against her, so I don't either. Not when she provides them with the healthcare they won't get at the med center.”
“What? I thought everyone in the Vault has medical coverage?”
“Yes. But because of their comparatively 'elastic' physiology, fairies looking for treatment at the med center are put on inordinately long waiting lists, since 'privileged residents'—humans, meaning—always take precedence, because of their supposed frailty. Youkai have it even worse, and that's more out of ignorance of their physiology than any rational basis. It's institutionalized racism, really.”
“That's fucked up, Dai. Your friend is the Overseer. Why can't you just change this?”
“I've said it before: There's only so many things I can do. Extinguishing long-held prejudices and rewriting or subverting official Vault protocol is usually not among them. Maybe when I'm free of the hardcoded restrictions, and can actually speak to the Overseer without fear of having my personality wiped, things will change. Hey, what kind of a man uses a blow dryer to dry his hair? You might really be a fag.”
“Mother dearest, shut up.”
“I'm just concerned is all.”
“Stuff your concerns. Maybe when we get you a body, you'll be able to work out these sexual frustrations yourself, instead of vicariously through me.”
Dai laughs. “Yeah, this shit probably isn't at all healthy for you is it?”
“Well, it sure isn't helping. I can taste 8 distinct flavors of creepy in this last conversation alone. Got another question, though.”
“Why not add more fat to the fire?”
“The recounting of the Nymph of Stauffenburg. In mythology dryads, nymphs, sylphs, sirens, and the like are frequently portrayed as temptresses. Now, the offspring of true gods I can understand, since they can merely incarnate themselves in the form of a human...”
“Oh, of course. What you want to know is, why aren't you banging fairy tail left and right?”
“No, Dai. I mean that the offspring of such unions are rarely mentioned in the myths, and when they are, they're often hideous monsters, while descendants of gods become heroes, like Hercules.”
“And you want to know where you stand as half-youkai, a half-kirin at that?”
You nod. That's part of what you want to know, but not all of it.
“Historically, half-youkai usually take over their human parent in appearance. Of course the risk of spontaneous abortion is normally a limiting factor. This is both due to the comparative fragility of the female human body in comparison to those of youkai, as well as the fact that youkai mothers who are frequently without proper medical care or even proper knowledge of the the birthing process. Youkai also often lack the social network necessary to rear a child, and a human woman would be shunned by her peers for consorting with monsters. Needless to say, many half-youkai fetuses don't survive to term.”
“Wait, wasn't that kind of bigotry done away with a long time ago?”
Dai rolls her eyes. “Well, I won't say they were ever exactly friendly, on account of eating and hunting and killing each other and all. You know Vault youkai identities are officially classified for a reason right?”
You were instructed as a youth to keep your half-youkai nature private, and they did cut off your tail at birth.
“Ah, I guess it's sure a hell of a big step up from open warfare though.”
“Well, I'm going to bed, Dai. I don't expect to see or hear from you until the morning.”
“Roger dodger.” The fairy salutes you, and winks out from the display.

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA16.mp3 ]

You seal the door with a triple hexagram closure and add an alarm trigger. No one is getting through without you noticing.
Sighing in relief that you've finished the last of the days tasks.
“That felt good.”
Ren glances at you from her needlework. “Must have. You were in there so long, your skin is almost as red as mine.”
“Good to see you're in good humor, despite all this...” Well, with the Med-X, maybe she really is feeling alright. “...stuff. Ready for schlepping about the Wasteland tomorrow? Any anxieties, regrets, comments, complaints, criticisms, and/or gripes?”
She pauses and looks up at the ceiling with a sky, as if seriously considering the question. “I've got a few, but, uh, too few to mention.”
You collapse into your bed Mary is already asleep on, wearing your pajamas. The urge to fondle her exposed breast is tempered by your complete exhaustion. You have no idea how three people are supposed to fit in this bed (assuming Renko doesn't work straight through the morning; you notice that briefcase is lying next to her), but then again you managed somehow last night. She's considerately switched to using the flashlight on her Pip-Boy and turned off the overhead lighting.
“Don't burn the midnight oil too long, Ren. These days of our invulnerable youth won't last forever.”
“Yeah, baby. I know.” She replies without interrupting her work.
You turn around toward Mary, watching her chest rise and fall. In a few minutes your breathing slows to nearly match hers.
“Max. You awake still?” Renko whispers.
“Mn,” you grunt.
There's a pause marking that she's hesitating about something.
“Do you think you can call me 'Aneki'? Just once... like you used to?”
You're surprised at her candor, but not too surprised.
“Goodnight, Aneki.”
“Y-yeah. Heh. Thanks. 'Night, Maxey.”
Hearts are melting.
Dreams are pleasant.

—

Monday, October 22, 2277
(⌚) 12:32 AM JST

Vault-Boy's inspirational quote of the day: “Solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong.”

(✌) You have gained a level!
(ॐ❂❂) You have unlocked a new racial trait: Enlightened Comprehension
(⚎) Your Karma has been altered significantly, putting you on the Lesser Yang Path!

WELCOME TO LEVEL 3

You have 16 skill points left to distribute:
[23] – Barter (Cha)
[17] – Danmaku (Agi)
[19] – Explosives (Per)
[17] – Guns (Agi)
[19] – Lockpick (Per)
[41] – Magic (Int)
[27] – Medicine (Int) (+)
[16] – Melee (Str)
[35] – Outdoorsman (End) (+)
[17] – Science & Repair (Int)
[32] – Sneak (Agi)
[45] – Speech (Cha)
[Note: Skills in bold are Tag skills.]
[Note: Symbols proceeding indicates the value is modified by current equipment and/or status.]

Select a perk from the below list:
[ ] Lady Killer
Requirement: Male
Benefit: You do +10% damage against opponents of the opposite sex. You'll sometimes have access to unique dialogue options when dealing with the opposite sex.
[ ] Intense Training (attribute)
Requirements: None
Ranks: 10
Benefit: Going through a training montage, spending a week in the hyperbolic time chamber, or grinding for levels in the dungeon—whatever the reason, you've expanded your natural parameters significantly. Any one of your SPECIAL attributes is raised by 1. If this takes any of your attributes over 10, you permanently gain the meta-human subtype if you didn't already have it.
[ ] Mother Complex
Requirement: Male, half-youkai, CHA 4
Ranks: 3
Benefit: A golden boy, you take after the mother you never knew, and so your tastes and countenance naturally gravitates toward the noble—or at least the exotic. With each rank of the Momma's Boy perk, you gain an additional 5 points to both the Magic and Speech skills.
[ ] Boy Scout
Requirement: Male, PER 4, END 4
Ranks: 3
Benefit: You've made sure that when the shit hits the fan, you'll be the last man standing. You also know how to start a real fire; scout's honor. With each rank of the Boy Scout perk, you gain an additional 5 points to the Explosives and Outdoorsman skills.
[ ] Smash Brother
Requirement: STR 4
Ranks: 2
Benefit: A sword, a bat, a frying pan, a parasol, a crowbar—you've learned anything can be a weapon in the right hands. With each rank of the Smash Brother perk, you gain an additional 10 points to the Melee skill, and your chance of landing a critical hit with a melee weapon is increased by 5%.
[ ] Maneki Neko
Requirements: PER 4, LCK 4
Ranks: 3
Benefit: Fortunes calls out to you wherever you lay your eyes—regardless of who they actually belong to. With each rank of the Maneki Neko perk, you gain an additional 5 points to the Barter and Lockpick skills.
[ ] Curtain Fire
Requirements: AGI 4
Ranks: 3
Benefit: You gotten into your fair share of scrapes, and have learned that ending the conflict at a distance is a lot safer than letting your foes get up close. With each rank of the Curtain Fire perk, you gain an additional 5 points to the Danmaku and Guns skills.
[ ] Write-in. [Keep it reasonable. Also, I suggest choosing one of the above in case it's rejected.]

You have become more familiar with the fundaments of Hellenistic magic. Select an elemental concentration:
[ ] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.
[ ] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.
[ ] Aeromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating air.
[ ] Geomancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating earth.
[ ] Empyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned manipulating with æther.
[Note: Advancing through the elemental disciplines are not exclusive to each other, and ranks you earn in them are cumulative.]

—

If certain characters do not display correctly, I suggest Anon installs these Unicode fonts:
http://users.teilar.gr/~g1951d/Unicode.otf
http://ftp.gnu.org/gnu/freefont/freefont-otf-20080323.zip

Also, according the little research I've done, most people read at 200-250 words per minute, meaning that there should be more frequent musical interludes in future updates.

This will be the penultimate update before leaving the Vault. Stats & Inventory of Max and his party will be in the next update. As far as Karma, I've tried to change it to reflect more a Yin & Yang duality, rather than pure Good & Evil. Passive or negative resolutions of problems are typically Yin actions; proactive or positive resolutions of problems are typically Yang actions. Of course, the implications of possessing positive or negative Karma will change as a result. Hopefully this will make it so that consequences of actions performed without voter interaction won't feel like 'punishment'.

Also, it seems Anon has screwed you out of that threesome again. Sorry.

[5] Speech
[9] Magic
[2] Medicine

[x] Intense Training (Luck)

[x] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

[X] Intense Training (Charisma)

[X] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

Meta-Human charisma is now just a step away.

>>94569
Forgot my skill points

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

Are we going to be able to purify water with hydromancy? If so:

[x] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

If not, then
[x] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[ ] Intense Training (Perception)

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

There isn't a problem in the world that can't be solved with the creative application of a fireball.

Also, we need to remember to take the Educated perk next level (when it first becomes available). Priorities and all that.

>>94586
>>Are we going to be able to purify water with hydromancy?

Can't we just purify water by removing the debris/brackishness, then boiling it? Given, the radiation is the main problem, but I don't think hydromancy would help with that.

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[X] Intense Training (Charisma)

[X] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

[x] Hydromancy I
Unless it has nothing to do with water purification, in which case
[x] Aeromancy I

Because air/wind has the most utility value.

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[x] Boy Scout

Hey Fallout Anon. You read the Dresden Files, don't you?
If not, you should.

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.


Hey guys, remember Lady Killer? That perk that should be usefull since because all Touhous are females? Yeah, we've regretted not picking it before, let's do it now.

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[X] Lady Killer

[X] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

Lady Killer is far and away the most globally useful of the perks available given that the majority of the Touhous are women. Plus, it might prove helpful to have more options for dealing with Ren and Mary if we want to keep them together with us. Joining the sex just now couldn't have hurt either... but I guess we'll just have to take it the next time the opportunity is presented.

As for Hydromancy, I just happen to think it's a practical discipline for a survivalist.

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[X] Lady Killer

[X] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

As convenient as hydromancy sounds for survival in the wasteland... won't it be a pain to find sources of water to manipulate? It being... y'know... a fucking wasteland and all?
Gensokyo is landlocked and has no rivers. It has a lake or two (which may or may not have survived armageddon) and that's it.
We can get water from a tap, but that'd hardly be practical for self-defense in an unsettled area. And Magic is our only attack stat.

This had better be more useful than it seems.

>>94657

Bear in mind the hydromancy could let us yank it straight out of underground pools if need be, assuming it was powerful enough. That's kind of the point - water is vital to life and hard to come by in a wasteland, and every extra avenue available for drawing it out makes surviving that much simpler.

>>94659

I doubt our power would be enough to penetrate what must be mostly solid bedrock (having survived both hellish bombings and the ensuing post-apocalyptic erosion) using a water source that we can't even see. At least, not at level one. That's for damn sure. Hell, we'd be lucky if we could even detect a well that hasn't been tapped already.

And let's not forget how radiation works, either. To purify irradiated water using magic, we'd have to be able to manipulate it on an atomic level. I seriously doubt we'll be able pull that off in the near future.

>>94661

At the very least, we should be able to eak water out of cracks we otherwise wouldn't be able to reach it through. Could also be used to yank moisture from vapor and fog, etc.

At any rate, I'd think it a more practical tool for use in a scorched wasteland than fire would be. Then again, I'd think earth and air would be more practical than fire out there.

>>94663

You know what's a practical tool in the wasteland? A gun. Unfortunately, we suck at using them. We can, however, make people explode in flames.
One cannot do that so easily with water.

So, the way I see it, we have to choose between being able to practically utilize the only weapon we are remotely proficient with... and being able to steal someone's glass of water through a crack in a wall.

Also, with a 50 in magic, I think we can manage lowering the temperature of mist slightly to force it to condense, even without specialized training.
Blowing stuff up, not so much.

>One cannot do that so easily with water.

Yeah, your enemies will be laughing until they cannot breathe anymore because you've filled their pleural cavity with water.

Undine's Curse: Save or die. I can't believe I'm only level 3!

And don't underestimate the necessity of potable water in the wastes. There's a market there--not so much for bottled fire.

Who knows, maybe you'll have a fateful encounter with a certain Lake?

All of the elements branches have their own utility and potential for side-quests. Some are just more obvious than others.

Just realized the last ftp link was dead. Should work now.

>>94675

You do realize people are made of water, right? We're practically giant walking water balloons. And even in deserts there is water vapor. Even if we cant extract water directly from someone (which would be an instant kill, as it would rupture cell membranes of vital organs, such as the brain), we could still just shoot someone and use their blood against their friends, or drown them with their own canteens. Or picture using condensation to cause a critical short in an opponent's big-ass laser rifle without them even knowing we did so.

You cannot tell me with a straight face that this would not be awesome.

>>94675
How very 13 year old of you.

Air is the best and most useful element. ALWAYS.

>>94763

Sucking the oxygen out of a person's lungs is very appealing.

>>94700
>>94706

Sure, you could carefully manipulate someone's body so as to flood his pleural cavity. Or you could cause his head to spontaneously combust.
You could pour all your effort into pulling a small amount of water from air with little moisture content so that you can weaponize it against an enemy. Or you could cause his head to spontaneously combust.
You could exert your power trying to work up enough pressure to rupture someone's blood vessels and extract water from him. Or you could cause his head to spontaneously combust.
You could attempt to shoot him with a gun, despite your relative lack of ballistics skill, then use his blood as a weapon against his friends. Or you could cause all of their heads to spontaneously combust. Simultaneously.

In comparison to fire as a weapon, water falls well within the "awesome but impractical" category. Killing someone with water would, in almost any circumstances, be more complicated and take more effort than simply killing him with fire.

I suppose hydromancy could prove to be a useful utilitarian talent. Later on. Maybe we ought to pick it up. Later on. But, right now, we need a highly effective weapon. Misguided as Overseer Cirno's leadership is, Vault 9 hasn't been isolated for no reason. There's some nasty shit out there, and we need a highly reliable means of defending ourselves. Besides, we've got plenty of supplies squared away. We probably won't need to pull any fancy water-gathering stunts for a while. If, once we get set up, you want to get involved in the undoubtably popular "magic water collection" industry (we're not the only ones that can use magic), then fine. But right now, we should focus on being able to simply survive.

No one's stopping us from learning more than one "-mancy". But, for now, we only get one. We need it to be reliable and clear-in-effect.

>>94706
And such unpleasant deaths would certainly fit with Bloody Mess, sad to say.

I still can't believe we took that perk.

>>94703
Ah, shit. I meant to mention that earlier.

>>94766
>We probably won't need to pull any fancy water-gathering stunts for a while.
Cool assumption, bro.

Besides, what makes you think that a (semi-)complex effect is necessarily going to require a lot of prep time? It might, but it didn't seem to do so when Max boiled Cirno. And that was with no skill in anything.

And I really like how you just kind of blew off >>94700 despite it being written by the author himself (or just somebody who likes to make shit up, which I find unlikely.) It really demonstrates how little you're bothering to consider other people's points. In fact, all your argument appears to be is "FIRE IS EXPLOSIVE AND SHOWY AND THEREFORE A GOOD IDEA. ALSO IT CAN KILL THINGS AND AT SOME POINT THINGS WILL NEED TO BE KILLED."

Well, given that that last half can be applied to just about all the elements (Don't know about æther, though), it's sort of invalid, which just leaves you with "IT KERPLODES ALL PRETTY-LIKE" which is that same goddamn 13 year-old mentality you refuse to let go of.

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

>>94769

Paraphrase my argument into barely-intelligible bullshit as much as you want. But if this story is anything like it's namesake, things will need to be killed at many points, not just some. And as long as we don't have limitless ability to cast, we're going to want the most cost-effective methods of using magic to fight when we're starting out. Again, I think blasting something to cinders will kill it with a significantly smaller expenditure of effort and resources than using some inventive method of turning something not normally considered dangerous into a weapon. There's a reason armies adopted flamethrowers and firebombs instead of lethal-pressure waterguns.
I'm not doubting the usefulness of any of the elements. But thinking they'll all be equally useful in the same ways is stupid. In this sense, I do agree with >>94700 .

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

[9]Magic
[5]Speech
[2]Medicine

[x] Lady Killer

[x] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

Burn now, fancy stuff later.

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[0] Lady Killer
-[1] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

>[ ] Empyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned manipulating with æther.

Can we have this next time we have the chance?

[9] Magic
[5] Speech
[2] Medicine

[x] Lady Killer
-[x] Hydromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating water.

>“Oh, of course. What you want to know is, why aren't you banging fairy tail left and right?”

I, for one, would like to know why.

[10] magic
[3] outdoorsman
[3] speech
[X] Mother Complex
[X] Empyromancy I
...accidentally cast x-zone on all friends instead of all enemies.

road trip = delayed response.

[25] – Barter (Cha)
[20] – Danmaku (Agi)
[20] – Explosives (Per)
[20] – Guns (Agi)
[20] – Lockpick (Per)
[41] – Magic (Int)
[30] – Medicine (Int) (+)
[16] – Melee (Str)
[35] – Outdoorsman (End) (+)
[20] – Science & Repair (Int)
[32] – Sneak (Agi)
[45] – Speech (Cha)

That's 16 points, I think. If any one wants to check, that'd be great.

[X] Curtain Fire
Requirements: AGI 4
Ranks: 3
Benefit: You gotten into your fair share of scrapes, and have learned that ending the conflict at a distance is a lot safer than letting your foes get up close. With each rank of the Curtain Fire perk, you gain an additional 5 points to the Danmaku and Guns skills.

[X] Pyromancy I—the elemental discipline concerned with manipulating fire.

Now we can check to make sure no one is a spy!

>>95217
Before I forget, it's good to see my favorite story being updated again.

Also, Mary and Ren

Any chance for a status report on the update?

bumping to see if author is still alive

Found this story hiding. Up to the top.

>>101330
No updates in a month probably means the author has abandoned us :(

>>101369

Considering the writer's average update rate this is just a slight set back so far. Here's hoping for a status update though.

All I can say in my defense is that I finally finished Broken Steel, and that it's turning out lengthier than I expected.

May as well declare winners.

Skill point additions are:
+5 Speech
+9 Magic
+2 Medicine

The winning distribution is a weighted average of all the votes, so don't be afraid to vote against the grain. In this case the divergent votes were so few in number simply rounded out. Not that this was a poor choice; your companions usually pick up ranks to balance out the party anyway.

Keep in mind there is a cap of 100 in all Skills. This may not be exceeded by permanent or temporary bonuses or increases in Rank, unless the corresponding attribute is or is boosted to be greater than 10.

The feat chosen is Lady Killer.

The elemental discipline chosen is Hydromancy, though it was close race with Pyromancy. This means no Magical Salamander Smokou-tan, but perhaps there's an appropriate Touhou for Undine?

>>101422
>appropriate Touhou for Undine?

Nitori's ability in canon is very simply "the power to manipulate water." Seems perfect.

>>101422

Sweet, glad to know you're still alive.

>>101425

Ah, but then who would be our Moira?

>Magical Salamander Smokou-tan

dawww

>>101445
I thought he was all about earthquakes and such.

Iku could work for Undine. Fish, swimming, all that.

Nitori is the most obvious choice, but given her engineering abilities I'm guessing there are other plans for her.

Cirno would be the next best, what with ice being close to water, and Undine being portrayed as a fairy-like in European mythology. She's doesn't really work here for obvious reasons, though.

Mai might be the the best choice from what's available. She uses ice magic, and pc98 characters are prevalent here.

Everyone else seems like a stretch. Iku maybe, but that's just hinging on the fact that she's a fish, and it ignores her "atmospheric" abilities which are closer aligned to wind than water.

>>101436

Rika? Rikako?

>>101455
Yeah, actually the first one that came to my mind was Daiyousei...out for obvious reasons.(..although it could be interesting if she really was a fairy goddess...)

...Kisume would make an interesting choice...

>>101518
There are starving English majors who need those ellipses. Please learn how to write properly, and do not continue wasting them.

We can always get Smokou-tan later on. For now, Nitori~ As stated by >>101458 there are other Touhou plenty capable of filling in the role of wacky engineer. I'd question about the availability of Nitori, but hey, if Mokou is available, then Nitori might as well be too.

Makes me wonder though. If there's no chance of us encountering Mokou unless we take up pyromancy, what exactly happened to her?

>Touhou for Undine
Would our lovely Captain be an appropriate choice?

>>101533
...But I thought they gave out free meals at McDonalds...

>>101636
>enginerring
>inmortal
>a Cirno is fine too
Are you--

No.

I mean... can you actually read? Have you been reading any of this? The story, the responses..."

You confuse me to no end. Maybe I'm misunderstanding the intent of your words.

Will there be an update any time soon, or are you still working on what by now is probably the longest post in this story so far?

>>103927
I'm hoping for a few Palingenesia-size posts. That fucker walls like nobody's business.

>>103927
>>103975

Brace for disappointment.

>>104176
I'd rather brace for the author to fucking update already.

>>104283
Brace for (even more) disappointment.

fae of the 5 elements?

Harker is never coming back. ;_;

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape1.mp3 ]

You exist at a crossroads.
Which is not to say there any real, paved roads—rather, dirt paths that seem to snake out from a center point and wind outwards toward either oblivion or an infinite horizon. But you'll call it a crossroads, because there are wooden fingerposts marking the ways, jutting out from a pole in the different directions. There are impossibly many trails from this place; it seems the sum of the total area must cover more than the actual surface of the ground they've been paved on (quickly, you find Euclid's fifth postulate less than relevant). The signs however for almost as many have rotted or eroded away, leaving your options quite comfortably in the realm of the finite. At your feet are a few splinters on the sparse patch of grass and stones, but their worn characters and numerous and fragmentary nature makes reconstructing any of the broken signs impossible. The only ones intact that you can make out are five in number and arranged in a perpendicular fashion—forward, backward, leftward, rightward, and twirling up.
Speaking of up, you look up to the sky in order to get some handle on which time of day it might be or whether they correspond to cardinal directions by the position of the sun, and what you see both amazes and stupefies you. The sun is out, yes, blazing hot and providing plenty of illumination, but on the other side of the sky, a crescent moon, just as large and distinct, holding dominion over its own half of the heavens, present with twinkling stars against a dusky backdrop and everything. Confoundingly, you cannot orient yourself directionally (though you'll admit your own astronomic aptitude is average at best; that was always Ren's purview) as the day and night skies seem to rotate about a fixed axis, with the moon and the sun always opposite each other, but moving far too quickly for time to be passing normally. They make a noise as they orbit each other, as if beyond the canopy you would find a mess of clock gears to which the bodies are affixed by a wire tether. It's not so much the grinding noise of metal teeth on metal teeth, but the squeak of a well-oiled machine—almost musical.
While the sound is pleasant, you need to stop spinning in place and look back down at the grassy earth, before you become nauseated and vomit. (And you know what you would vomit too: Shades of green, from dark forest to lime, along with salmon pink and cream and black specks. You ate too much watermelon at the 4th of July fair when you were eight, swallowing the seeds even though Miss Ellen told you it would give you a stomach ache. Mary teased that a watermelon tree would burst out of your gut, which even then you knew was impossible because watermelons don't grow on trees—they're made by food synthesizers.)
Ugh, your parentheticals are more noxious than nostalgic. Distract yourself. Those signs; read those signs. Okay! They're labeled in single Greek letters carved deeply into the wood. In one direction, capital gamma; opposite it is capital delta. Perpendicular, we have capital rho, and its complement, capital pi. Finally, capital theta points upward. So, from a bird's eye view, your mental map is something along the lines of:

☝ – Γ
☜ – Π
☞ – Ρ
☟ – Δ
x – Θ

Now, as far as deciding on a path, or whether to even set out at all, the theta 'road' is right out—that's why you put a hatch-mark there. You'll even cross it off. Look.

☝ – Γ
☜ – Π
☞ – Ρ
☟ – Δ
x – Θ

Because, it points toward the heavens, the dizzying array of concentric circles of the sun and the moon and the stars and even some planets you can see with the naked eye—what you identify as Saturn and Uranus, by the color and rings, also being the brightest and most readily recognized, seeing as they appear to be moving in reverse compared to all the other celestial bodies. The more you focus on a particular body the louder the humming gets, but you soon have to look at the earth again to ground yourself and escape the nausea. No, the 'Θ' sign, if it points toward a path at all, is not any path you, a mortal, can travel. Time may mean little in this place, but the acknowledgment of futility in order to avoid experiencing frustration is still a relevant factor in decision-making. Plus, it makes your insides feel wonky to consider it. So you turn to the directions.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape2.mp3 ]

Ahead, on the 'Γ' path, there are an eclectic array of geologic formations—sharp-peaked & snow-capped mountains, rolling, grass-covered hills, and buttes & eroded boulders in shapes that look like they were fashioned by the Maker Himself. Most interesting is that the path seems to slope downward, toward a cave. However, as you consider this road, a howling wind assaults you. It is cold and dry, but its gust are weak at this distance—Renko's Tunnel Snakes jacket and your Vault uniform provide more than enough protection; you won't be facing death from exposure any time soon. Still, you recognize the wind that is blowing. That is because it whispers its name in your ear: Tramontane. The maddening gale that blows across the Alps. Perhaps it's just a case of superstition generating auditory hallucinations rather than an actual intelligence in the air, but a shudder is sent down your spine nonetheless. To the Greeks, this wind blew would blow from the North, so at least you know where your 'Γ' leads, if now more than a little dissuaded from the heading.
If 'Γ' is North, that must make 'Δ' South, though you still cannot guess why these characters were chosen from an etymological standpoint. The 'Δ' sign, pointing South, leads a path that is flat up-down, but snakes widely left-and-right, seeming to ultimately end up at the ocean shore, though you've never seen a real shoreline in your life—but you've seen holotapes, you know what the rhythmic beating of the waves against the ground sound like. A new breeze, warm and moist, carries with it a refreshing, salty taste. This would Ostro, the South wind, which to the Greeks carried the air of the Mediterranean. Rather than something intangible and as malign as 'insanity', it was associated only with rains, and truly there were dark clouds approaching from this direction, though you wonder if they would ever reach you. This is just the closest path to the sea, though; to the Greeks, you know from your studies, Oceanus in fact circled the entire world, and was a physical boundary that separated them from the shores of the Underworld, which was probably an irony to the sailors, who could easily 'cross' the sea, by drowning, that is. (Miss Ellen, your instructor, made that joke so many times, it's impossible not to think of it now.)
'Γ' being North and 'Δ' being South, 'Ρ' then points East. The path East follows a very lazy curve through a valley between two rolling hills. The hills are covered with tall green grass, and the wind blowing through them makes patterns and waves in the the green as it passes. The wind blowing is more subtle and billowing than the gusts coming from the North and South, and is cool and moist, possibly carrying dew from the plants themselves. Idly, you remember the name of the cardinal wind of the East: Levanter, after the Levant, where presumably the winds would originate. They're calm winds, usually, but you can indeed see a vortex forming in the distance, which could become a cyclone eventually, but like the thunderhead forming over the Ocean, would probably take forever to happen in dream-time.

Finally, to the West we have our 'Π' path. Since we're stuck on wind trivia, West corresponds to Pontiente, or maybe better known as Zephyr, is among the most favorable of winds, dry and warm, carried to Greece from Italy and Spain. They are also fast and reliable, so the cult of the god Zephyr was relatively popular among sailors. The land to the West seems in high autumn, as the leads to sparsely wooded forest with leaves turned the color of vermilion. The road took you right into the forest and seems fairly free of obstacles. There could even be a band of merry men who will take you into their number once they realize you've nary a cent on you! (Or they'll just cut your throat and steal your jacket!)

“Dai, do a risk assessment on Robin Hood and—oh.“
No Pip-Boy. Which means no Pip-Fairy. Where is the music piping out from then?
Everywhere?
…
Welcome to Dreamland!

Going by Dreamland logic then, West is Green Greens with its guardian Whispy Woods, and that boss is easy modo and therefore boring. East would be—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape3.mp3 ]

“Son of a bitch.”
“Who said that?” Where?
“This bitch.”
Above you? Holy shit.
“Hello, Max.”
“Hello, Dai.” The great fairy floats down before you, wings fluttering. “My, you're bigger in person!”
“It shouldn't surprise you. Most fairies acquire their names; I'm no exception. What are you doing?”
“I'm... extending my hand in greeting?” I'm certainly not going to hug you. Handshake ought to do it. Some form of touch is probably necessary. Yeah.
Wordlessly, she takes your right hand in her own, adding her left. Now it can't be a handshake—she's just holding you hand between hers! Oh God, now you're choking. She looks so different, seeing her entire person in full color, as opposed just a monochrome wireframe, usually just her portrait. The fairy wears a white blouse under a green vest, a yellow neckerchief at her collar, and an azure skirt. It... suits her? Yes, you'd agree with that.
“You...” Can feel your face heating up.
“Yes?” Her eyes, like almost all the non-humans you've seen, change colors. One moment, they're as blue as the ocean; the next, as verdant as a forest canopy.
“You look different.” Durr hurr.
“You look the same.” She lets go of your hand to tap you on the nose, “Just as cute.”
“Ha ha ha!” You look away, desperate to get away from these mortifying reintroductions. “So where am—um, are we?”

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape4.mp3 ]

“If I had to guess.” Your eyes are closed and looking in a different direction, so why can you tell she's tapping her forehead? “You're dreaming.”
Well, obviously.
“...But the question is not so much as whether Max Rockatansky is dreaming, as what Max Rockatansky is dreaming of? Besides me, of course.” Her wings flit as she hovers and takes a short bow.
“You're about as helpful as you are in the waking hours.”
“Hey, I didn't ask to be here. This is your dream.”
“Of course, it's my dream. You're a figment of my imagination. Other than speaking for some unconscious, or, more likely, confabulated thought, I can see you're pretty much a laugh-track.”
Which is why you'll disappear when I open my eyes at the count of three. Because this is my dream, and I will it. 1... 2... 3...
Still there. “Fuck! This is a nightmare, isn't it? You're going to turn into a column of teeth aren't you?”
“N-no, I don't think you've got it quite right, Max. You are definitely dreaming. There's no getting around that. But I don't think you're merely dreaming of me. No, I'm really here. Just, in your dream.”
“So this is a shared dream? Hey, I thought you said you can't dream! You're a computer!”
“Stop yelling, Max. Goddammit, I'm thinking.”
“You're not thinking, you're process—“
“Shut up.”
Fine.
“Okay, I've got it. Assuming you're dreaming for a reason, meaning there are certain conditions to fulfill in order to either awaken or...” She stops like she just thought of something. Then she slaps you.
“Ow!” Fuck!
“Sorry, I was just testing a hypothesis.”
“That hurt.” It does smart.
“Oh, I didn't mean to hit you hard.” Then whispering to herself, “Negligent, not abusive,” she holds a chilly palm over the irritated skin, which palliates the stinging but causes the rest of your face to heat up. Luckily, she's off pondering something rather than examining your features. After an uncomfortable moment, the coolness disappears, with her hand. “No, there's definitely something you're supposed to do here. Objective-based. Something heavy enough that I was sucked in as well. Well, I was in middle of finalizing autonomous code that will sustain the Vault for the duration of our excursion.”
“Wait, you're actually coming with us?” Like, physically?
“What did you expect? I'm in your Pip-Boy.” She reaches for your arm to give concreteness to her point, but hesitates noticing the device's absence. “Oh, well, it's not there now, but it will be, and I will be in it, whenever I get out of... here.” She looks away, scanning the scenery.
Huh. She really is physically in there? Sort of like how she's really physically here in your dream? Yeah? “I... well, I just assumed you'd be like, I don't know, in radio contact or something?”
“The Vault doesn't have any external data sources or transmitters since we were hit by the war, and there's nothing inside powered enough to make it through the Vault Seal. Come on, You know that much.”
From what you remember, going through the Overseer's Passage was sort of a surreal experience. It's the kind of thing that's hard to describe to someone when you're not both really high, but one could say it felt like you weren't crossing a physical portal, but some kind of metaphysical boundary. Or a 'border' as Mary would call it.
Speaking of Mary and surreality. “So why did you get sucked in, but not Mary or Renko? They were right next to me, too.”
The fairy thinks on this for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, Mary's dreams are Mary's alone...” She changes track when she notices your incredulity, “Or rather I think it's because I'm here for a specific purpose! Being, to guide you through the dream, to whatever destination it has in store for you, or... whatever destination you have in store... for yourself.”
She's not being a very good dream guide if that's the case.
“Alright then, Virgil: Paradiso? Purgatorio? Or Inferno?”
“Aha ha. Max, I'm here to help you because you can't be trusted to get out of this alone, so be a darling and keep the heckling to a minimum, hmm?”
“Wait, what's makes you think I can't handle this myself?”
“Well, the fact that I was spirited here... into your dream... would mean that apparently you don't think you can handle this yourself.”
Okay, that cuts to the quick.
“And if you don't think you can do this, in the world you created, well... I couldn't sensibly advise going it alone, could I?”
Some font of all-accepting maternal love and support you are.
“Suppose I just wait for someone to wake me up?”

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape5.mp3 ]

She shrugs. “Suppose you never wake up because you're in a magically-induced coma?”
Oh fuck. It was from reading that grimoire, wasn't it? You must have put yourself in some kind of trance.
“Aw, shit!”
“Oh, come on, Max. I don't know that for certain! In fact, I don't know anything about the outside right now.”
“Then we're doubly in shit, because if you're stuck in here, then who is running the Vault?”
Dai opens her mouth as if to shoot down your worries, but she makes no sound, as her eyes widen in alarm. As if she just realized she had left the stove on, and the door unlocked, and the children alone with the power tools.
“Th-there's autonomization protocol! It can run fine by itself, for a little while! And in the event of a true failure of Vault AI, as registered by auto-diagnostic routines, the Overseer, uug...”
Dai starts tugging at her side-tail. She looks likes she's about to have a nervous breakdown.
“That's alright. She's probably sedated. The Doc's got us covered.” Yue, you're our only hope.
“It'll still show up in the logs!” She sobs, having dumped herself on the ground from her prior, aerial position. “Catastrophic, system-wide failure! AI protection fault! Kernel panic! f0-0f-c7-c8! Bad command or file name! lp0 on fire!”
You shake her shoulders, “Speak English Dai! Who is on fire?”
“Eh?” Well at least you've broken her out of her crying jag. “Oh. Um. No one. Just my credibility as Vault AI. I'd be lucky if they wiped me, or maybe... let me control the opening and closing of doors, or something.”
“But everything is automated you said? The Vault doesn't need you to hold its hand? That's why we're getting you a body, right?”
“Huh? Yeah. I mean, well, yeah. Just that...”
“Just what?”
“There's...” Her voice quiets, “There's just no room for failure now. We really have to... go all the way with this.”
“But that was the plan from the very beginning, right?” Obviously, she had contingencies in place, which are now kaput. Still, it might be best to pretend otherwise, for the sake of all involved.
She looks up at you hazily, but then wiping away the tears, she manages a smile. “Mm.” She nods. “Right.” She steels her countenance and repeats, “Right.” Now standing up and dusts herself off. It seems even as a computer, Dai has no less of a penchant for mood lability than her embodied kin. “We can assume from the potency of the effects that this is indeed the work of the Liber de Nymphis.”
As you assumed. “So this book has an intelligence, and it's trapped us here?”
“No. No, this place as I said is almost certainly your creation. Your dream. It's the effect of reading it and internalizing what was written within without fully... um, 'digesting' said information that lead you here.”
“A prison of my own making. That I apparently think I can't get out of.” Great.
“No one is blaming you, Max; it's just what happened. The power of this dream actually delineates that the power of the arcana you'd absorbed be of similar potency.”
“So this is a power-up?”
“Assuming that you don't go mad with revelation, and that you eventually wake up, yeah, you might say that.”
Cool!
“Now, these signs: Am I correct in assuming you haven't figured out what they mean?”
“Obviously they describe the paths they point to, but just from these symbol, I can take away little.”
“Max,” Dai is clearly in lecture mode now, “You read an Greek elemental treatise. You don't see any connection between the elements and these letters?”
Γ, Π, Ρ, Δ, and Θ?
“Well, there are five elements.”
“Spell them out in Greek. Ignoring the diacriticals.”
“Fire is 'pi-upsilon-rho', earth is 'gamma-eta', water is 'upsilon-delta-omega-rho', air is 'alpha-eta-rho', aether is 'alpha-iota-theta-eta-rho'.”
“And the signs are labeled 'Gamma', 'Pi', 'Rho', 'Delta', and 'Theta'.”
“They're not initialisms. Pi works for Fire, and Gamma works for Earth, but Upsilon and Alpha aren't represented.” Unless, they're on the fragments on the ground. You stoop down, to start picking through them, but again spot nothing legible among them.
“So if we had to pick out a letter that only applies to a singular element...”
Okay, now you see what you're saying.
“Pi only appears in Fire. Gamma in Earth. Delta in Water. And... Theta in aether!” Now that you know this, you can readily see there are concurrences in the landscape of the paths with the elements on the signs.
Dai nods her head, smiling in approval. “Now that we know what each sign represents, which path do you prefer we take?”
You're tempted by the obvious destructive potential of Fire, recalling with pride your fight against the Overseer. However, pragmatically, you know you can't do better than Water, which you will definitely have need of, given that the sources in the Wastes will likely be brimming with disease and radiation.
“I've always wanted to see the ocean.”
“Then what are we waiting for! South it is!”
It's a bit cute to see her beating her wings so rapidly, in her attempt to drag you by the arm while still hovering.
“...I'm going.”

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape6.mp3 ]

“I must say, you have an interesting taste in music, Max. Dated as it is.”
I guess this is your dream. Of course you'd be the one controlling the playlist.
“You know how they say some people have a one-track mind?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, you might say I have an eight-track mind!” In stereo. Endless playback. No rewind.
“Ha. It's good to know your mind isn't as barren as this landscape.”
“Hey now, if you don't take that back, I'll start playing Randy Newman.” You'll really do it, too.
“Alright! I take it back.”
He's not that bad though. Poor guy. Just singing about what he sees.
If you were Randy Newman, what would you sing about?
The raw sight of the ocean. The curious feeling of wet sand underfoot, though you could've sworn you were wearing your boots on the trail a minute earlier. The discarded falderol—like that bucket—and seaweed washed up on the beach. Oh how you want to run straight into the waves, but you just know they'll be freezing. Besides, for all you know there could be stinging jellyfish. Ze ocean, she is a fickle mistress~
“Do you hear that?”
“The gentle pounding of the surf? The tumult of wave upon crashing wave? The cymbal clash of black clouds in the distance, thundering and roiling?”
“Uh, no. I meant—”
“The occasional squawking of seagulls?” There are no gulls here.
“N—”
“Squawk!”
“Are you going to let me talk or not, Max?”
“Sure.”
“I was saying—“
“Squaw—owowowowowow!” Let go of my ear!
“Are you going to let me talk?”
“Okay!”
She lets go. Ow.
“I was saying, that bucket looks suspicious.”
A very large bucket, the kind you'd think of house servants using to wash clothes, upside down. Must have been carried in and deposited by the high tide.
No, that's ridiculous. Not even you are devious enough to a put false herrings of this magnitude in your own dreams.
“Keep away from it, Dai; It could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“Like, there could be a sand scorpion under it? Or a giant stinging horseshoe crab? Or some other kind of diabolical lobstrosity?”
Dai gives you a look of disgust for your cravenness. Oh, how your courage suffers when you lack properly protective footwear.
Then you hear something, like the revving of car engine. And now the overturned bucket, which is more the size of a washbasin up close, is skittering away.
Yeah, I'm not touching that.
“Warp speed: I'm late for work!”
You distinctly heard a humanoid voice coming from inside. You and Dai exchange glances.
“Honk honk! Beep beep!”
The small size, the pitch of the voice, the sound effects coming from its mouth: It's a goddamn fairy. Has to be.
Feeling much more reassured, you carefully flip the bucket over with the edge of your foot, revealing... nothing. Just the sandy beach underneath.
“The hell?” As soon as the now righted bucket catches your attention, a massive plume of opaque white steam explodes out from it, leaving a waifish silhouette in the clearing mist.
“WHO DISTURBS THE SANCTUM OF KISUME?”
“Kisume?” Dai asks herself, wholly unintimidated. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“YES, I, KISUM—eh? Eh?! Onee-sama?!”
When the mist is gone, you're facing a naked, green-haired girl sitting in a bucket half-filled with water, despite the fact it was just upside down moments ago. Her shock is neither due to modesty nor your presence, but rather her attention is rapt by the big fairy.
“You know this... girl, Dai?”
“Uh, yes. We're acquainted, I believe. Kisume—just Kisume, I think.”
“How cold, onee-sama!” The ecstatic, naked girl rises out of the bucket to snatch Daiyousei out of the air with a hug. “We're practically cousins now!” Dai is less enthused. In fact, it looks like she's going to gag.
“Uh, how are you two related?”
“We're not; she's just a clingy tsurube-otoshi! Let go!”
“Which is?” Japanese folklore was never your strong point. Honest, you thought she was a genie from the entrance.
Dai has given up resisting now. “Think of a dropbear, in a bucket. Add hellfire.”
Well, that makes perfect sense! “A dropbear with power over hellfire is a tutelary guardian of water?”
“Aw, didn't I tell you, onee-sama? We're cousins now! I'm fey!”
“What?” Dai's incredulity matches your own. It's possible for one kind of youkai to become another; the Western Vault re-education of youkai resulted in changes in some where there were close parallels between Eastern and Western traditions of some meta-humans you'd heard, but nothing as dramatic as changing an animated bucket with a grudge into a fairy.
“Mmhmm~! I was reincarnated as a Nixie in the post-War. Onee-sama, haven't you ever heard the legend of Melusine?”
“Melamine!?” You pry the youkai off your Pip-Fairy, pushing her back, and causing her to tumble over the edge of the bucket onto the sand. “Stand back, Dai! Bitch is poisonous!”
Dai looks relieved at being able to breathe properly, but shakes off your protective grasp on her shoulders and steps out from behind you.
“No, she didn't say 'melamine' Max; she said 'Melusine'.” You look back at the youkai, wet and sandy and naked and glaring daggers at you.
“Oh? Sorry. That's like a river sprite? Right?”
“Tch.” Angrily, she crouches, taking the bucket overhead and covering herself completely, as she had been when you first came upon her. Sort of like a turtle hiding in its shell.
“Please excuse my son's idiocy and poor manners.” That gets its attention again, because the lid rises, under which you can see the reflection light off its eyes which are currently boring into you. “Kisume, this is Max, My adopted son. Max, this is Kisume, my, er, 'cousin'.”
“...I'm not a dropbear,” the bucket declares sullenly.
“She's not a dropbear,” Dai reiterates.
“...I only use my hellfire to make the mist.”
“It's a good, dramatic way to make an entrance!” You ply the bucket nixie with flattery.
The bucket's lid drops back onto the sand, and you and Dai exchange worried glances for a moment, before the bucket starts scuttling toward you. Its lid lifts from the ground slightly, an arm extends out, and the bucket youkai... punches you in the shin.
“Ow!” Fucker!
“...Pleased to make your acquaintance,” comes the muffled afterword.
You're tempted to bring your foot down on bucket, catching her hand, but Dai stops you with her arm and the shake of her side-bob.
“...Pleased to make your acquaintance, Kisume. Or 'cousin', if you'd prefer to think of it that way.”
“You're not fey.” Kisume replies snidely. The bucket flips itself right-side up. Again, magically half-filled with water, and thick steam providing Kisume some modesty. “You're not even human. What are you?” Her sneer is betrayed by the curiosity in her words and tone.
“I'm half-kirin.”
“Eeeeh?” She grunts appraisingly, disdain still apparent on her face. “Can you use magic?”
You fake a sneeze, quickly recalling an Air cantrip, which blows her occluding mist away. “Ugh, yeah. Excuse me.”
She frowns at the result and recovers her modesty by heating the water in her bucket with a gesture of her hands, the water boiling and causing large plumes of steam to rise and wrap themselves around, the end result appearing something akin to a fluffy white robe.
“So~ you want to learn hydromancy?” Kisume inspects her handiwork with a proud grin, tugging on her new sleeves. “That is why I've been summoned here to this dreamscape, is it not?”

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape7.mp3 ]

You plop yourself down on the ground, adopting a crossed-legs posture that mimics Kisume's. “Hai, sensei!”
“What have you learned from your text studies, padawan?”
“Water sprites are loosest of the elementals?”
The pig-tailed nixie narrows her eyes you, “Ah so~?”
“Max!” Dai slaps you upside the head. Ow.
“Anything else?”
“Uh, two girls were having sex on my bed at the time, so I may be forgetting bits and pieces.”
“But you read through it?”
”Yes?”
“You have dedication, if little else. Very well, I shall grant you power over the element of water.”
Hooray! “So, how does it work?”
“You already know; otherwise, you wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be here.”
That kind of cryptic response doesn't deserve to be answered with more than a pout. This is my dream; I'm holding the cards here, missy.
It doesn't take long for her to cave.
“Ugh, fine. How about... I give you a spell card?”
Sweet! “It's a deal.”
Kisume dips her hands into the water and retrieves a card, dripping with water. “Here you go, young man. Use it in good health and sound judgment.”
You take it. On one side is geometric patterns and magic circles, the other is an medieval illumination of a half-serpent woman, and surrounding her, the drowned, symbolized by the blue faces. “Water Sign 「Ondine's Curse」?”
“It's very much what it sounds like. Use the card as a focus, and realizing the primacy of water in the continued existence of living organisms, manipulate it into killing them~”
Right. The human body is what, two-thirds water by weight? Sounds simple enough.
“Just don't point it at me when you're doing dry runs, okay?”
“Oh? Sorry!”
“That's all right, young man! Now I'm sure you have plenty of other things to dream about, so run off and play, while I 'catch up' with onee-sa—er, your mother,” she waves you off dismissively.
Dai looks fairly creeped out at this prospect, but voices no objections. “Goodbye, I guess, Max. When I next see you, I'll be inside your Pip-Boy.”

>It's a bit cute to see her beating her wings so rapidly, in her attempt to drag you by the arm while still hovering.
Dai~

“Hold.” You're drawn into a tight embrace from behind, slight arms encircling your midsection. Dai's voice becomes sweet and breathy, “You didn't really think I'd let you get away without at least one hug, did you?” Her breath on your neck is cool and smells faintly of juniper. (Or Gin, rather, since that's the closest you've come to the actual tree.)
“Oh.” Not much else to say in this situation. The problem with hugging fairies is not so much their stature (at least, not in Dai's case) as it is that there's nowhere to put your arms because of their wings, but that's a non-issue when it's the fairy doing the hugging from behind. You lean your head back, but you're unable to see her face, which is now nuzzling the nape of your neck. Even if she is tall for a fairy, she must be either hovering or standing on her toes to reach you.
Heh. Feels good man!
“Are you two done?” Oh, right. The third party.
Dai breaks from the embrace. “I'll let you get back to your regularly scheduled programming.”
Tch. “Fine. Way to spoil a very touching moment, mermoid!”
“Mermoid?” The Melusine sputters, outraged.
“Well, yeah! You don't even have a fish tail! What kind of snake oil are you selling here! In fact...” You look at the flimsy-looking 'spellcard', and she at you, aghast with indignation. “...What does this thing even do? Does it even work?”
“You know what? Never mind! Give me my spellcard back!” She reaches out to grab it from you, but the bucket gets in the way again. Hoist by your own accoutrements, nixie!
“Fine then, take it back!” You declare, power gathering around the card as it glows blue. You're about to rack you mind for a suitable line of incantation, but one spills from you lips effortlessly: “Drown in your own hubris! Water Sign 「Ondine's Curse」!”
For a brief moment, you're surrounded by the clearest waters, the sand beneath your feet making it look as if you're on the ocean floor. In that instant, suddenly weightless, you fear you did something incredibly stupid, and because of it, now you and Dai are going to drown in your sleep, without ever making it out of the Vault or within even 100 miles of an ocean.
But just as fast as it appears, the sea is gone, not a drop on your clothes or skin.
Kisume, however, is turning blue.
“Max!” Oh, and Dai is pissed.
Well, you did act in haste and anger, and you can see the results of that in front of you: The water sprite is on her knees, with the bucket's contents spilt on the ground beside her. She's punching the sandy floor quite angrily, beating her chest with her other arm. No sound escapes her lungs.
“What the fuck did you just do?”
“I'm not really sure, but.. it looks like Kisume is choking.” Fucking dropbear.
“No shit!” Dai stomps over toward the girl, and gives a hard slap on the back.
You shout after her, “It's a dream, so she won't really die.” Right?
After a frantic and wide-eyed shaking of the head in reply to Dai's efforts, the fairy starts... making out with her?
Color returns to Kisume's face, and then some.
Oh, right! She's just... helping her breathe!
'Kiss me' makes to wrap her arms around Dai, but hesitates (wings, I know), then decides to just go with it passively, closing her eyes and going limp in Dai's grip. She's practically rosy now, though, so you strongly doubt she's still asphyxiating.

Oop! Here's the scene transition now! Woo-loo-loo-loo~ Woo-loo-loo-loo~

—

>“I'm not really sure, but.. it looks like Kisume is choking.” Fucking dropbear.

This is beautiful.

Kisume and Dai~
Maribel and Renko~
Max and his hand~

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape8.mp3 ]

Okay. This is definitely a regular dream, as fucked up as it is. No Daiyousei. No bucket. Only you, in a classroom, sitting at a school desk far too small for your adult body, and maybe two dozen other, younger yous sitting at similar desks, off in their own little boyish worlds, dressed in the same Vault uniform. Former actress turned bumbling professor (seriously, how did she ever remember her lines?), Miss Ellen “Fluffy” Aureus is at the chalkboard, writing something unintelligible. Why is it you can never read anything in your dreams? Well, fuck it. You didn't care about your instructions when you were that age, and you don't care now. All that mattered was the girls (who are absent here), maintaining your cred in the schoolyard (Metaphorically, although there's sun beaming through the windows in this dream, you spent your younger years underground in confined areas, like the Caf or the Diner), and—
“Maximilian!”
Broken out of your reverie, you answer mechanically, “Yes, Miss Ellen!” Of course, she could have been referring to the other 'Maximilians', but looking about, they seem to have taken no notice, some taking notes (ha, doodling, more like), others flipping through their blank texts, one fucker in the corner even picking his nose when he thinks no one is looking. Just the background for this sequence. Miss Ellen is of course looking at you, incensed for some reason. Maybe you didn't do your homework?
“I would ask you to read the next selected passage Aristotle's Metaphysics, but I see you 'forgot' your textbook again! Let me guess, your robot dog ate it?”
Some snide laughter coming from the other yous now. Yeah, laugh it up chuckleheads: You'll only hear that one five million more times.
Besides, you never had a dog. Not even a robot one.
Oh. Now you're sad.
“Sorry, Miss Ellen.”
Well, good. Now you sound suitably reproached, and she relents with a huff.
“Honestly, I take the time to tutor you personally due to your declining grades, and you don't even come prepared!”
Personally? What about all the other..."
Oh, right. There was only you from the get-go. You're the only boy in your class, after all. Probably had something to do with why Miss Ellen took special interest in you. Maybe, in her mind, classrooms are half boys and half girls, meaning the 50% of her efforts were distributed toward the other, female students, and the other 50% fell entirely on you?
No, you shouldn't think about it like that. You spent your entire Vault youth being so forcibly homogenized into an 'ideal' society that you started believing it existed. Clearly, it does not. You are special. You are different. Not just your gender, either. You had an extra-Vault excursion, and now you've found out you were the son of a somebody, even if you only know of her as a cipher, this 'Rin Satsuki'. This would be before you knew that, but, you already had something going for you, right? Magic. You were—are quite good at it.
Whether it's crazy dream time giving you such opportunity for internal monologuing, or because Miss Ellen is a naturally slow conversation partner, you take this opportunity to change the course of this dream.
“Miss Ellen, I want to learn more about magic!” You say it with such enthusiasm that you surprise even yourself. It's like you're really a boy again, wanting to learn more about 'hocus pocus'. And behold: You fit more at your desk!
Miss Ellen sighs heavily, now forced to move from her lesson plan (and leaving your grades stagnant), but she smiles, moved by your apparent drive for at least some kind of learning. “Maximilian, why does magic grip your fascination any more than, say, philosophy, or science, or arithmetic?”
A good question, one that has plenty of answers, but few that you can respond with: You can't set things on fire by diagramming sentences. You can't turn water into wine by manipulating matricies. Knowing the periodic table of elements doesn't enable you to short out electromagnetic locks. Invoking Heidegger won't lift a girl's skirt up from across the room. Memorizing kanji won't help a paper note-turned-airplane fly & reach its intended target.
“Because magic is different from all that!” A feel good response; you've intrigued her by your enthusiasm, but no further, so keep going. “All the other stuff is just knowledge; it doesn't do anybody any good unless it's applied to our environment through our hands, or tools... which we make from the environment with our hands.”
Miss Ellen tilts her head in consideration. “Yes, for every academic field, there is an applied field, but if you want to learn a trade, then—“
“That's not what I want to do at all, Miss Ellen!” You feel just like a kid again, now. Funny that despite being physically smaller now, you feel much more confident and empowered. “I don't want to learn something, just so I can apply it to do something else! With magic, I just want to be, and it is! See?” You snap your fingers, a motor skill learned by rote that has long become reflexive. In your life, it is probably the single most used, purposeful, thoughtful action you'll ever take. The sound it creates is almost magical. The candle flame it creates is.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape9.mp3 ]

Watching you with likely as much curiosity as you yourself are enamored of the magical flame flickering in the air above your finger, Miss Ellen bends down across from your desk to observe it, and you, more closely.
“I understand, Maximilian~✰”
That star that twinkles in the air—when she puts a pinky to her cheek and broadens her smile—it's enough to tell you that she really does. It would be the beginning of a love affair that would last the rest of your life as a child, going well into adulthood: You and magic, of course. That it just so happened that Miss Ellen was the high priestess of your new religion led to plenty of adolescent 'confusions', as you prefer to label them in retrospect. Looking back, it's easy to see while 'magic' and 'Miss Ellen' would be conflated in your growing mind: The woman had hardly any personality to speak of—the result of what should be called both a blessing and an affliction. (Which is not to say that the fact did her wrong: Having so malleable a countenance undoubtedly contributed to her successful pre-War acting career.) Moreover, she was the most readily accessible authority figure who would consider the arcane as something she focused on, and it certainly didn't hurt that she was really quite good at it. You count yourself blessed that you've never seen Miss Ellen really cut loose with the spell-slinging; surely, such an event would bring the entire Vault around her.
“Archimedes, fetch me my red pocket grimoire.”
That cat hardly did anything other than act as a lap blanket or a paperweight, but when Miss Ellen told it to do something, it fucking did it. Here it comes, bounding onto the empty desk next to you, a red tassel hanging from its mouth with a cloth-bound journal attached to it. How a woman who forgets everything could so well train a cat that should be equally as forgetful is something that confounds you to this day.
Miss Ellen takes the grimoire from her familiar, and opens it to one of the earlier pages. “Let's see now...” She decides to don the pair of reading spectacles hanging about her neck. “Alright, Maximilian, first we'll start with the very basics.”
She always started with the very basics, at least, whenever her bookmarks or you failed to prompt her for the sufficiently progressed subject. In retrospect, probably has something to do with how you got so good at 'the basics'. Anyway, she's in full swing, and it looks like the peanut gallery has returned to the surrounding seats, the cat having slunk off to lay on her desk, warming itself in the imaginary sunlight.
“Can anyone in the class tell me what the definition of a 'cantrip' is?”
“Hai!” He's an eager beaver. Even taking the effort to say it in Japanese.
“Yes, Maximilian?”
“'Cantrips' are defined by magic that is of limited utility. They are generally flashy, temporary manipulations or creations that violate natural law only in form, but not in effect.” Well, you could've told her that. And honestly, using words like 'utility' and 'manipulation' at your age...
“I'd say you've hit the nail right on the head, Maximilian. Cantrip magic is highly versatile and requires only a modicum of effort from the caster, but that is because it only a marginal reworking of the external world. You can never do with a cantrip what you could not do otherwise with sufficient preparation in materials, or the utilization of sciences. But there's another point of distinction you touched on concerning its 'utility'...”
The boy blanches. Ha. Called on your bullshit. “Er, you mean... besides being useless?”
“More than simply being useless, class, cantrips are useless on a metaphysical level! You might be able to create an ice cube to put down someone's back in the summer heat...” Faint chuckling at this joke. There was no 'summer heat' in Vault ⑨. “But try using it to refrigerate food, and you'll soon find it melted, and your milk and luncheon meats warm & spoiled. You might be able to generate the appearance of an electrical current to give someone a jolt, but any light-bulb powered by this 'electricity' is liable to blink on-and-off at seemingly random intervals, and is never on when you need light the most! Remember Murphy's Law children!”
“Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong!” The class choruses.
“And Finagle's corollary? Anyone?”
A different boy from before raises his hand, hesitantly. After being given a go-ahead nod by Miss Ellen, he recites, “If it can go wrong, it will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.”
“Very good, class! You all get a gold star for the day~✰”
Surety that the universe is relentless in its perversity has never been so cheery. You wouldn't have your first confrontation with the malevolently capricious side of magic until your run-in with that gigantic ant a year or two later.
Speaking of that, you're starting to get faint as a result of massive cranial trauma. Massive cranial trauma? Ah, shit. I hate these cyclic nightmar—

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Dreamscape10.mp3 ]

You open your eyes, and there's no light.
False awakenings are something you've learned to sort of live with. Rather instead of assuming when you wake up that you're in reality, hoping that it isn't a dream, you assume it's a dream, hoping it's real.
At the least, you know how this part works. Lucidity while dreaming doesn't necessarily mean you're in control, especially in a recurring dream about memories that probably really happened. Rather, you're informed on what is happening, and more importantly, that it's not really happening. That it is, in fact, only a dream. This certainty, whether the contents are traumatic or transformative, removes you from the events occurring. Like a movie that you're watching happen on a big holo-screen.
Right now, as it would look from the outside, you're in a hospital gurney with a bag zipped-up over your head. Like a corpse. You're not dead, of course. You might be if they left you zipped up too long, but in your long experience with this particular dream—around ten years worth, at a rate of maybe once a week? Well, you're fairly certain you're alive, and that you'll still be alive in a moment when the actors arrive on the set and open the bag up. Which should be fairly soon, since you can hear muffled voices. An argument, probably.
The bag unzips, but you don't hear the appropriate noise, because the light is louder than the sound of the zipper. You can't smell anything. Not the smell of chlorine bleach and denatured ethanol they use to sanitize the tiled walls and floors in the med center. Not even the smell of your own blood, which you are covered in, given the cloying, sticky feeling on your skin, and the dampness you feel on your scalp. You can't move, and that's probably not an effect of being in a dream: You were injured quite grievously at the time, and you can hear some voices filtering in through the ringing, blaring, ocean of light that is visually as opaque and featureless as the darkness of the bag you were just in.
“Hang in there!” One girlish voice, probably a fairy. “BP is 60 over 30. Heart rate is... still 110, somehow.” She's excited, but not hopeful, despite her assurances.
“Doctor, he's bled out. Class IV hemorrhaging.” A more morbid-sounding voice. “Even if we get him normovolemic—”
“Just do your job, nurse. I'm the one who decides who lives and who dies.” An older female voice. Very crisp. Definitely a doctor. Yue?
“...I'll apply more hemostat to the suture site or something,” the opinionated nurse takes the hint and busies herself.
“Glove me.” There's a snapping noise. “Thank you. Friday, help me with the transfusion, kindly?” The Doctor's voice is crisp and assured. Just another day at work.
You can remember how terrifying that was at the time, that you were racking your head trying to figure out how long you've been unconscious and what day of the week it was. Turned out later, Friday was the name of one of the nurses there.
Your eyelids don't close, but for now, darkness again.
Time passes. The repetitive beeping of life-support machines, reassuring you that you're not dead yet. The sonorous mechanical ventilator forces air into your lungs to assure that.
Ah. You can almost see now. There's those distinguishable bunny ears now, though the face is too fuzzy to match with the now familiar rabbit doctor.
“You look like you were attacked by a monster. You find a youkai in your closet, young man?” The voice is there at least.
You weakly raise your finger to point at the ant farm on the bedside table that Mary got you—a joking 'get well' gift.
“That eager to play with your gifts, eh? We'll have you all shipshape and Bristol fashion in a day or two. Though I don't know how long that will last once the Overseer gets a hold of you.”
She takes something out of her pocket.
“Well, don't worry too much; you always have your health to be thankful for! Here, have a lollipop.”
You can't eat it now because you're still intubated, but the doctor puts the wrapped treat in your open palm, and you grasp it with your fingers, weakly.
“Now let me get a nurse to remove the breathing tube and that catheter, and we'll have you upgraded to a bottle. Ah, you know what, I'm already here. May as well take a look-see. ”
Huh?
Woah.
That is not a feeling you get used to.
“Fufufufu...”
Hey. That's not your voice, Yue.
Oh, right. This is a dream. The sound might be outside the dream.
Well, you've already thought it; there's no going back now.
Your vision shifts. The transition is immediate.

[ (☺) You are rested. HP & MP restored. ]
[ (☺) You are no longer fatigued. (End +1) ]
[ (⌬) You are no longer under the effects of Buffout withdrawal. (Str +1, End +1) ]

It's dark still, but definitely morning. You can tell the time by the gradual un-dimming of the lights that comes with the advancing AM, which is meant to simulate natural dawn and keep the Vault population's circadian rhythms entrained.
There's still that feeling down there, though. If your intuition is right, it's associated with the mischievous giggling.
Lo, and behold, Mary, with her mouth wrapped around your dick.
“Hey.”
“Mmmf—oh! Sorry!” Toning her voice down to a whisper, “Did I wake you?” Her hand squeezes where her mouth used to be,
This woman. Honestly.
“...what are you doing?”
Mary blinks a few times, then sputters out an answer, “Eheheh... You know what they say: Early to bed, early to rise!”
Renko starts to stir next to you from the commotion, moaning unintelligibly. Out of the three of you, Ren is the one most decent, in her tank top and panties. Your jumpsuit is zipped down to your BVDs and then some. Mary, except for a sheet covering the lower half of her body, is completely naked.
“Late to bed, late to rise. Could you have some respect for the person who stayed up all night designing something for you to wear, so you don't catch a bullet in the gut?”
“I'm sorry Max...”
“I wasn't talking about me.” You glance toward the slumbering Renko. Mary follows your gaze, then frowns and withdraws her hand.
Great now she's pouting, and you still have an erection. “I didn't mean you should stop, you know.”
Mary grins as if expecting that you would backpedal. “Oh ho? But you just said—“
“To be mindful of the presence of others; we just need to keep it down.” No matter what Ren wakes up to, it'll have to be less pathetic than you 'flogging your log' when you have two girls on your bed.
Mary, smiling now, lets go of you, and grabbing the sheet covering her rear with one hand, crawls over you on her knees, taking care not to accidentally nudge the other girl curled up at your side. Up close, even in the relative darkness, she's gorgeous, and your hands make up for lost detail by roving over what you cannot see. Her breasts, usually bound by her sarashi, are standard Western fare—sizable.
“Mmm...” Mary moans softly as you pinch and play with her nipples. “Max, don't tease me,” she whines.
“Would you rather do this dry?” It's no fun for me if it hurts you Mary. You run a hand down her side and up her thigh to check.
”We don't have to.” She replies, batting your hand away from her crotch, and scooting back from her prior position straddling your chest. It takes a moment for you to realize that she's gathering saliva in her mouth. She then lets it pool out from between her lips, and in one large gob, dribbles it onto your exposed phallus.
There is nothing romantic about this, but Mary's almost bestial sense of lust is at least as arousing as it is intimidating.
“Hee hee,” Mary giggles as she positions her opening over your now slick erection. One of your arms has Renko hanging off it, and your free hand is grasped by Mary's, whose other hand is pressing down on your sternum for support, leaving you little or no control in this tryst. Of course, there's something to be said for that, as well, as it gives you time to focus on the flood of good sensations. The sound of Mary inhaling sharply as she lowers herself on to you. The sensation of Renko's slow, warm, and uninterrupted breath on your neck. The indescribable comfort of being inside a woman. The room is slowly getting lighter, and you can make out finer details. Mary's chest heaving. The folds in the sweat-soaked sheet clinging to her posterior. The shudders that run down her back once you're all the way in. Her eyes flutter as she tries to get used to the sensations herself. She lets go of your hand, and no longer needing the other to steady herself, Mary gently traces her fingernails up your chest, drawing rings around your collarbones, and finally up your neck, where you can feel the friction of your stubble against her uncalloused digits.
“Relax, Max.” Her voice holds none of the fervor and whining desperation of before, and at once you're looking at a different girl—a woman, it seems. She blows into your ear with pursed lips, the coolness causing a visual reaction, and you suddenly realize how tense you really are. The sharp and labored breathing; the chapped, gasping lips; the hot, flushed skin beaded over in a cold sweat; the bounding heart; the barely suppressed shudders that leave one's hair standing on end: They're yours. You stop trying so hard to be the one who needs to 'fix' the problem. You can do this because Mary is gazing into your eyes, not bearing the self-assured and competitive grin Renko might in the same situation, nor the fogged-over look of ecstasy you've already had the pleasure of seeing on her, but rather a faint smile of acceptance and compassion. It's an expression you're certain remains even though you might close your eyes to stem this torrent of emotion and sensation.
“Mary, I—“
“Shh,” she shushes you, and her fingers continue their exploration, playing with your lips, nails mapping the grain of the stubble across your face, finally running through your short, dark hair. You can feel your muscles relax in waves, the pained knots in your back disappearing in a cloud of endogenous opioids the squelch any thought that isn't directly related to the experience of the here and the now. Something wet runs down your cheek, and though you can't tell if it's a rivulet of sweat or a tear from your stinging eyes, it provokes a reaction from Mary, who ceases playing with your face, instead taking your limp hand in hers once again, more tightly than before, and with the other cupping your cheek, she leans down to kiss you deeply on the lips.
All that without so much as moving her hips since you entered her.
“I'm sorry, Mary.”
Why are you apologizing, she asks with a concerned expression and a wordless shake of her head.
“I really can't... perform...” Not exactly; you're still hard as rock. “I mean... it's hard to move.” And talk, apparently.
“No, Max. It's okay.”
“It's not...” You almost raise your voice.
“It really, really is. I made sure of it. I used divine power to paralyze your muscles, just like I did before with Ren when she was in pain.”
[ (♿) You are under the effects of a mind-affecting divine spell. Strength drained! ]
That's why it feels like someone slipped you a minor tranquilizer. There's probably something illegal and unsavory about this, but honestly you're too busy feeling good to care. You're more shocked that Mary has the power to do something like that so easily.
“...How?”
Mary begins to move her hips. Slow grinding gyrations. It's very clear she means to take her time with this. Not pausing her motions, she taps your hand she was holding just a moment ago.
“Well...” I'll be damned, you don't finish. There's a slip of paper in your palm. An amulet. You don't bother to try to read it—not only would you strain your eyes in this light, but it's probably in kanji you wouldn't recognize anyway.
“What tim—“
“4 AM.”
Ugh. Fuck that noise. “I'm going back to sleep. You can do what you want. I don't think I could stop you if I tried.” Which is not to say you would want to, either.
“That's fine~. I didn't mean to wake you in the first place, but it's no good to ignore your daily needs.”
Whose daily needs we are talking about here, again? After all, you've gone long stretches in an almost entirely female environment, while it turned out the only thing Mary was 'addicted' was intimacy, not Mentats (and let's ignore the possibility that she might be a burgeoning alcoholic, given the hidden liquor cabinet). You've also never attempted to restrain, physically or otherwise, someone in their sleep so you could have sex with them.
“Mmm~”
Still, can't imagine waking up to anything better than this. Nor can you think of anything more pleasant to fall asleep to. She makes it easy for you by closing her eyes and not talking.

[ (♥) Feels good man. (+10 hp) ]

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA18.mp3 ]

It's light out. Or in, rather.
Which is to say, it's definitely morning.
“Goddammit.” Ren's voice. She must be up already.
“Mmm,” Mary coos, her arms wrapped around you.
“Rough night?”
“Jet-fueled nightmares,” comes the reply.
“Psh... You wouldn't believe the shit I was dreaming.”
Renko's voice pauses, then continues, “I had that dream... where the American Gothic people were after me again.”
“Alright. You know what? Never mind. You win.”

[ (♿) Paralysis has worn off! Strength returned! ]

It takes you maybe five minutes to clean the dust from your eyes and shake the cobwebs out of your head.
Double that for Mary to become coherent, and she's still in bed. Eventually you give up on her and start piling the gear and clothes you'll need in the Wastes with Ren.
“Here.” Ren hands you a holodisk she picks up from the floor.
“Oh this,” you recognize it immediately, as it's clearly labeled.
“Well, uh it was the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide. When I finished reading it, I was just playing around with the record function on my Pip-Boy and... sorta overwrote it?”

[ (✍) Renko has read the Vault Dweller's Survival Guide! Her Outdoorsman skill rank has increased by +1! ]
[ You have acquired 1x Blank Holotape! ]

You check over the data through your own Pip-Boy. Yes, it's deleted. You sigh and play the short audio stream she deemed was important enough to overwrite it with.

'...Uh, testing? Ren was here. Max is a faget.'

“Heh heh heh! Ahem. Uh, I'm... really sorry. Eh heh.”
You sigh and delete the recording. “I hope you memorized how to build a lean-to, Ren, because that's what you'll be sleeping under tonight.”
“Shit,” seeing that her joke was not received in good humor, she goes back to packing... stuff. Right now she seems to be attempting to shove multiple sets of clothing into your duffel bag.
“Ren, we can't possibly take all this.” It was obvious, but you're the first to say it. “We'd need to find a cart or a dolly or something to carry it. I have bungee cords, but nothing to strap them to.”
“Well, the med center has 'em. I remember 'cause I was swiping tubes of propofol from a hand-truck.”
“So that's why you were so calm,” Mary sits up and narrows her eyes at Ren as if she had just admitted to having a secret lover.
“Look, I thought he was gonna die, so I needed something to take the edge off, you know?” The 'edge off'?
“So you abused a general anesthetic?” Should I be clapping?
“Max, it's more like, she thought you were going to die, and then they would find out who you got the 'bad chems' from~”
“It's not like that! I just...” She claps you on the shoulders and looks you in the eye, as if to reassure. “I knew you wouldn't want to spend the rest of your life as a vegetable.”
Don't assume things like that! “Vegetables live interesting lives for all you know!”
Mary starts up in whooping laughter. “Hahaha! What the fuck is wrong with you Ren? Ahahaha!”
“Mary, you wouldn't understand: It's about a man's—I mean, it's about a guy's—well, it's about a person's pride!”
“Ah-ha?”
Obviously, there's something Mary doesn't understand about the bond you and Renko share. Which puts you in a similar situation, one guesses.
Your Pip-Boy interrupts the conversation, “Are you guy's ready yet?”
“Almost,” lies Mary, who flops back on the bed.
“Well, you better get ready little lady, because hell's coming to breakfast.” Oh, you're not getting away with that one, Usami.
“It's still a little early for the John Wayne quotes, Ren. Even if you are wearing a poncho.” Try again later, maybe at 'high noon'.
Censured, Ren mutters, “...Eastwood, not Wayne.”
“I'm going to take a shower,” says Mary, finally sitting up. “Max?”
“I took one last night.” You could probably do with another one, but you kind of need to talk to Ren.
Don't pout at me, Mary; we're pressed for time!
Ren starts chuckling once Mary leaves, holding the finished product up to the ceiling light.
Ha ha. Oh wow.
“Maribelle Hearn. Combat cheerleader.”
“Or maybe a samurai goalie? You think she'll wig out?”
“I think she can be convinced that this is necessary.” The white shirt's puffed out appearance would mimic the dress of an onmyoji more than a miko. The peaked cap and chin strap, doubtless sewn together out of some bullet-resistant fabric. Velcro instead of ribbon ties keep the sleeves on, which are rather heavy you note as you examine one. Twisted lengths of fabric as trim give the appearance of shimenawa, with folded red, white, and blue streamers hanging off it. “My only regret is the armor won't leave her midriff exposed.”
“Oh ho? Here I was thinking you'd be an armpit man.”
“What, like you?”
“I'm not a man.”
“But you are a sexual deviant.”
Ren smirks and doesn't argue.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA19.mp3 ]

The armor itself is composed largely of the pouches of ballistic plates and Kevlar from the fairy armor, cut-up, and tied together in the fashion of scales. From the looks of it, it'll protect her chest and shoulders, as well as her legs, given the matching skirt. Over all, Renko's constructed something befitting a yamabushi, which isn't far from the truth, considering the 'cloistered' Vault environment she was raised in.
“Dai, you've been awfully silent all morning.” Too silent. “Are you there?”
She doesn't show up on the display of your Pip-Boy, but she does make herself heard. “I'm always here, Max. Just a little... busy fixing some last-minute details before our exodus.”
“Well, that's fine. Gives me time to take a shower too,” after that sequence with Mary this morning, you could probably do with another. “You too, Ren.”
“I think I'll go for that now.” Leaving me to explain this to Mary? Or jumping at another chance to get peek at her naked? “Hold down the fort, Maxey.”
Well, whatever. “Aye. aye.”
And then there were two. It's still rather early. Not even eight by the display on your Pip-Boy.
“How long do we have until we have security dolls in Protectron armor storm our position?” If a man's home is his castle, his apartment is his fort at the very least.
“Oh? Well... that.”
This is not the kind of question that takes a great deal of consideration, Dai.
Besides, didn't she'll say she didn't like Randy Newman?
Maybe she's just not paying much attention?
“Yes. That. How long until that?” A half hour? An hour? Right now?
“Well, I was going to tell you all together.”
Oh? That doesn't sound good. That doesn't sound good at all.
Luckily you have minimal amount of time to fret alone about this, because a towel-clad Mary steps through the doorway.
“Hey, Max, you scrap one of those Protectron dolls last nigh—woah, sweet!”
Okay, maybe Ren is more knowledgeable about Mary's tastes more than you admit, as she holds up the various pieces of garment-armor to her skin.
“Wait, what were you saying about a Protectron? I didn't fight any of them, only security fairies and... a maintenance robot.” Okay, that one was not a 'fight'. That was a cold-blooded slaying of a machine just trying to do its job. You monster.
It's at this point that Renko bursts into the room. Well, as much as it's possible to 'burst' into a room with an automatic sliding door. Compared to Mary, she's much more wet, less modestly toweled, and definitely more alarmed than quizzical. She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it when her nervous, fretting gaze falls on you.
“Well, that was an awfully short shower. Something happen?” You venture.
Her mouth opens and then closes again, but instead of replying, she takes the large auto-revolver out from under the pillow, where she probably left it when she went to sleep. Tying her towel on more securely, she then checks the chamber, uncatches the safety, and leaves the room again with nary a word.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA20.mp3 ]

You and Mary look at each other, both of you wearing anticipatory expressions. About thirty seconds later, a gunshot rings out, the echoes reverberating doubtlessly from inside the tiled bathroom walls. Another few seconds, two more shots are fired in quick succession.
The door opens again. Renko is dragging a heavy Protectron in by its legs. It's damaged, but not in a manner that is consistent with lasers or gunfire. Rather the plexiglass enclosure, the doll's 'cockpit' is smashed open with what looks like great physical force. The doll itself is gone.
“What's all this then, Renko?”
She holds a finger up. Not done? She reaches around in your/her jacket pocket for her knife, then she leaves the room again.
Mary isn't even paying attention, as she's currently immersed completely in trying to put on her new clothing. She has the tabi-stockings on right, if little else.
“Dai, as much as I enjoy watching girls walk around half-naked in my room, you want to tell me what this is about now? I assume it's got something to do with the Protectron.”
“I think Renko has this one covered pretty well.”

Door opens again. Renko is carrying something by a tether which she tosses into the center of the room.
No, it's not a tether.
It's an antenna.
Oh. Oh no.
It's amazing how calm your inner monologue can be when your body is recoiling in utter horror, posture reminiscent of The Scream, a reference that the noise you're making is suited to as well.
You close your eyes, but the vision has already etched itself into the back of your eyelids. The bulbous compound eyes. The razor sharp mandibles. The still twitching segmented antennae. The splattered hemolymph on your apartment floor, stemming from the stump of its neck and the three large holes in its carapace that Renko gave it between its eyes.
Which isn't to say your body doesn't do its damn best to distract you. Your chest hurts. Your pulse is bounding. Your gut tightens, ready to retch up anything you might have eaten. Whoever called it the 'fight or flight' system should be tried for hackery: In your experience, it's been much more 'fight, flight, or freeze' or specifically 'fight, flight, or this-isn't-happening-this-isn't-happening-this-isn't-happening'.
But this is happening, because if it were a nightmare, having already reached the climax of your terror, and the malicious hemisphere of your brain would be satisfied by now and allow you to wake up, or at least let you move on to another dream.
All you have to do to move past this event, rather than relying on some external intelligence to decide you're done here, is to change these very thoughts into actions. Control your body, rather than letting it run on autopilot.
“So, we have an ant problem?”
A moment ago your fingernails were digging into your face hard enough to draw blood. Mary had already moved to your side, and Renko was looking ashamed; for you, or possibly for herself—who can say? Now they just look... spooked?
You gently take Mary's hands off of you and stand back up, “Let me correct that: So, the Vault has an ant problem.” Less of a question this time. “We still need to get the hell out of Dodge.”
Dissociation. It can be a hell of a thing.
“Uh, yeah,” Ren manages.
“Great. I'm going to take a shower. Ren, you still have soap in your hair.”
Taking a shower means stepping over the ant head. Well, why strain yourself? Kicking it away will work just as well.
It makes a hollow sound when it lands in the hallway, the portal to your room still open because the broken Protectron suit is blocking its closure. Surprisingly little gore is released in the process, and besides, you're taking a shower anyway.

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA21.mp3 ]

Ren follows you into the bathroom, but only stays long enough so that she can rinse off, and also probably make sure you don't wig out from the headless ant in the room. To be absolutely certain, it seems, she drags it into the hallway.

“So...”
“What is it?”
“Well, at first I thought you were leaning toward Usami, but with the episode this morning, now I don't know what to think.”
Right, we'll ignore the whole ant issue. For now. Even though the twitching, headless corpse of one is one stall over.
“This is probably the last chance I'll have to bathe in unirradiated waters for a while. I'm sure glad I get to spend it listening to your yapping.”
“Hey man, it's not like I've been helping you out from behind the scenes for years. Those cleaning fairies must just have sticky fingers and really like you!”
This soap does have a nice scent.
“Theft? Heavens, here I thought there was a chain-gang of fairies laboring behind the walls to crush rose petals into attar in order to perfume my detergents. Well, when I wind up in prison, I hope they'll be as liberal with the amenities as they have been thus far.”
“I have your ass covered, Max: Never drop the soap again! Thanks, soap-on-a-rope!”
“At least in the Vault prison I won't have to worry about bending over; there simply aren't any other men.”

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA22.mp3 ]

“With your luck you'll be locked in with the only situationally gay male in the Vault.”
Fine too.
Wait. No, it isn't.
“Some crusty old dude? Oh, gods. Do not want.”
“How do you know you wouldn't like it, Max? How do you know you wouldn't love it?”
“Here's a better question, voice-in-my-head: How many men are jailhouse straight in Gensokyo?”
“Well... huh. How could you tell?”
“I think it's something you just know. Maybe this self-delusion, but I like to think I have a fairly sensitive gaydar.”
“You're right, that is self-delusion; you're not that perceptive, Max.”
“It's not about one's general capacity for observation, Dai.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but I believe that every man is destined to meet his own El Guapo.”
“You're right. After a near miss with nuclear annihilation, it would simply be too cruel of the world to deny someone his nemesis-rival-mancrush.”
Now may not be the time to talk about how you've taken to narrating events in your head as they occur with the voice of Morgan Freeman.
“What were we talking about before? Women? I think I like that topic better. Yeah, let's stick with that.”
“Oh, right. So which one are you going to marry?”
“Both.” Dammit. “Neither.”
“You always clam up on that one~”
Shut up. “Tch. Women...”
“What's this little bit of misogyny my son is muttering?”
“Nothing. Just thinking that they make the highs higher.”
“And the lows?”
“More frequent.”
Oh?
Who is this?
“Hello!”
A little automatous doll. Very similar in appearance to Orléans, but without a machine-puppet to control, and wearing a backpack. It's just peeking over the top of the shower stall, hovering in the air.
“So, I'm guessing you escaped from that downed Protectron suit, and attempted to take refuge in here, where the ceilings are higher and the knobs on the stalls can be locked?"
The doll nods its head vigorously.
You look out into the main bath, and the way is clear. You're wondering what her deal is, since she could've escaped while you were in the shower. Maybe she wanted to thank you?
Or sneak a peek?
“Well, you better get a move on, then.”
She nods again and heads for the door, which opens as she approaches.
Revealing another giant ant, at which the doll hovers back to you very quickly.
“Hmph.”
Well, you're naked. You have no firearm. No melee weapon. You have magic, but how would you use it? An earth spell would block your only way out by causing the ceiling to cave in. Fire is hard to use when your skin is sopping wet and the room has reached maximum humidity. Wind? You could blow it onto its back, but there are no props about that you could use to complete the kill. Water it is then.
Tearing the shower curtain off its rings to use as a cloak, you start building pressure in the water mains, starting with the first and second shower heads, behind the insect, which has indeed taken notice of you, and is crawling toward at a slow pace. Menace (clearly) in its compound eyes. Then you focus on the last stalls—seventh and eighth—in quick succession. The metal spigots pops off the first stalls as piping hot water cascade behind the creature, blocking its escape. Then the seventh and eighth, cutting off its attack. With nowhere to turn to the indecisive ant remains as still as Buridan's ass, that is until the heads of the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth burst off and drenching the mutant ant in scalding water, which it writhes in. For a few seconds. Then finally makes some attempt to escape, toward you.
You're tempted to weather a scalding and bust the ninth and tenth drains, but a beam of white cuts through the air above your shoulder that quickly grows wider, and you wisely step away from the source. The beam still trained on it, within a few seconds the carapace of the insect starts to bubble, When the doll stops firing, the corpse is largely intact, but its eyes have melted into pools of black goop and the skin is cracked and steaming in a number of places. It does not move, and appears quite dead.

“Nice cannon.” You tell the fairy. She curtsies in mid-air. “Why didn't you use it before, though, when the other insect was in here?”
She points at her fairy-sized weapon which is still steaming, specifically the yellow-and-black trefoil it's labeled with. She pantomimes firing a number of bursts off in the distance, complete with faked recoil. She suddenly drops the gun (which is connected to her back by a tether), then with her hands makes a gesture for a big explosion.
Heavy Fairy. This could be a blessing or a curse.
“Dai. Identify this doll and its weapon for me.”
“Say the magic word~”
“Dai, could you please identify this doll and its weapon for me.”
You 'turn off' the water in the stalls by letting off on the magical pressure you were exerting. The tenth stall hadn't had the head busted off, so you finish your shower in it, which had been interrupted by the giant insect, and the doll, which quickly makes its escape.
“That's Novgorod, one of the more militant security dolls. The radiation cannon she used is extremely unsafe and probably a violation of the Geneva Accord on Radiological Weapons, but it certainly gets the job done. Given how that Protectron in the hallway was so easily overrun, I'm not surprised she's taken to extra-vehicular extermination.”
That's weird. You always assumed that dolls take on the role of whatever robot puppet they're controlling. Seeing an armed doll by itself, especially one so fervent in performing it's duties is a little weird, But then again you've never seen them outside the domes on LiL' Miss Handy and the cockpit of Protectron armor.

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA23.mp3 ]

Ants. Why does it have to be ants? Is it Karma? Divine irony? Fate? These are the questions you ask yourself while dressing your familiar Vault ⑨ jumpsuit, now with Ren's Snakes jacket for both protection and emotional reassurance.
Mary's already suited up for war, presumably with Ren's help. She sits on the edge of your bed, cross-legged, with a gleeful smile on her face. When she notices your stares, she covers her expression with a fan fashioned out of a stack of amulets.
She doesn't look away, though. Which means... she's planning something.
She stands up, fan still obscuring her face, and begins to sing and pantomime in a lilting, haunting voice:
“Swift as the Eastern wind~
She blows on the fan amulets as if it were dandelion wishers, and they fly over your room, air turbulence causing skirts and collars to flap.
“Silent as the forest wood~”
The wind dies, and her operatic movements halts, maintaining some form of mudra with her hands. When she moves again, she turns her hands over, revealing two more stacks that become fans, the ends of which, after a unvoiced moving of the lips, light ablaze. Dai must be paying attention by now, since the lights in the room have dimmed.
”Merciless as wildfire~
Mary strikes down a handful of non-existent opponents, her movements with the two sources of fire causing smoky trails and odd shadows on the walls.
”Stalwart as the mount~
A clap. The flame is extinguished, and of the amulets, only soot remains. Mary returns to the edge of the mattress, another amulet-fan appearing with a flourish, but she only uses it to fan herself, satisfied with her performance.
And during that entire thing you sensed not a bit of magic.
“Divine power, eh?”
“I could do that—maybe not with amulets. Mary, even if you were playing out the role of Kagemusha, your strikes left plenty of openings.”
You never give the girl any credit, Ren, which is why you'll never catch her.
Mary frowns and rises to argue—
“A mountain does not move!”
Oof. Shut down. Mary returns to her seat.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA24.mp3 ]

The Vault radio kicks back in. The noh drama is finished and the audience lights are back to their usual harsh intensity.
Still, Mary's dance cheered you up.
“Ren, can I have my gun back?”
“I gave it to Mary; not really big on energy weapons.”
What? “It wasn't for keeps!”
“Max,” Mary is back to her frivolously-tongued self and explains in a plaintive tone, “It's pink, and it says 'Princess' Smile' on it. And I don't think you're a princess!”
“You know what? You hold on to it for me, miko-hime.”
“Success!”
Turning back to Ren, “So what, I get the Nambu, or just the toothpick?”
“No, I traded Mary for the Nambu, and... I took the knife out of your—my...” Ren corrects herself. “...jacket pocket.” Then corrects herself again, noticing your frown. “That I'm lending you for the indefinite future.”
“So how am I supposed to deal with the cutthroats? And the raiders? And the giant insects? Use harsh language?” That episode in the bathroom was good enough a reminder on the limitations of your personal abilities.
“Maxey, baby, sit down.”
“Don't patronize me, Ren!” Still, you down sit down on the bed, but with your arms crossed.
“Mary and I were just talking...”
It hits you like a ton of self-help books on dealing with relationships: You're the third wheel. Your mettle was tested and you were found wanting.
“So what does it mean, huh? That I'm the party pack mule? Or maybe you plan on leaving me behind to take the fall for everything!”
“No, Maxey. First of all, you couldn't possibly handle all the logistics—you're just not strong enough—and secondly, you have a more important role in the party.”
“If you say 'cook' I'm mixing shards of glass into your can of beans!”
“You're the leader, Goddammit!” Ren nearly bites her unlit cigarette in half.
“What?” Leader? That's not a third wheel position. Hell, that's not even a second wheel position.
“You've got a pretty face, and mean mouth, and you can hurl balls of fire. I think that qualifies you as the group representative.”
“So I'm Hannibal, then?”
“Nuh-uh, I'm Hannibal,” says Mary, thumbing at herself proudly. “You're Face Man Peck. But... I'll delegate.”
“Mary, you don't smoke; how can you be Hannibal? I'm Hannibal. You're Murdoch.”
“Well, then who's our B.A. Baracus!” Mary yells in what you hope is feigned distress.
“You crazy, foo'!” Thanks, Dai.
“I don't wanna be Murdoch,” Mary still complains. “'Murdoch' sounds like the name of a demon—I'm a priestess; I can't be conflated with demons!” As an afterthought she adds, “Consorting is a maybe... but only if the price is right!” Whore economics, Mary?
You intervene before the female hysteria in the room reaches critical mass. “Look, if anyone is going to be called insane and abused verbally by a trash-talking black ma—err, fairy—it's me. So, Mary, you're Face. Besides I wouldn't trust you behind the wheel of anything.”
“Aces, Max. I don't like responsibility anyway!” That's not something to be proud of Mary.
“So what is the plan?” In a show of either patience or anxiety, Ren decides to ignore Mary's flippant behavior and get straight to business.
“The plan...” Knew you were forgetting something. “Of course!”
“By the fact you're smacking your fist in your palm... you have absolutely no clue?”
“Correct,” You repeat the gesture, “But I know who has the solution! Dai, what is the plan, which is reputedly so top-secret, even I don't know about it.”
“Well, I've got to tell you Max, it won't be easy.”
“How will we do it?”
“Easy.” The fairy on your Pip-Boy display mimics the gesture you made a moment ago.
“Wha—hey, wait a minute! I sure hope you've thought this through, Dai.” Because it's become rapidly apparent that no one else has.
A strange series of beeps come through your Pip-Boy, then you get a voice that isn't Dai's: “Hello, you've reached the Vault ⑨ AI hotline. We're not in right now; please leave a message at the sound of the bomb.”
Tch. “Well, fuck it then! Let's just cut a straight path to the Overseer's office. That's where the escape tunnel is!” It's not the kind of thing thing you they can move and hide somewhere else easily.
“I love it when a plan comes together! Gimme a light, Face. Er... I mean Murdoch. Aw, fuck the code names! Max, make with the flame!”
“Already on it, Ren.” Snap. “And I did forget about one weapon not yet allocated, besides the magic.”
“Oh?”

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA25.mp3 ]

Wham!
'This is cathartic.'
Whud!
'This is cathartic.'
Thump!
'This is cathartic,' you repeat in your head.
Whump!
You have to repeat it, otherwise, you might start enjoying smashing in the heads of giant insects.
Maple is a good wood. For example, did you know it can be enchanted to retain up to twice its weight in water? Like a deadly sponge. The water weakens the structural soundness of the wood, but frozen stiff by one of Mary's amulets? Now it's really more like a sledgehammer in its effect, except the weight is distributed more evenly, meaning the sweet spot is much larger. Even in untrained hands, it's a capable implement of destruction.
Oh, dear, that one splattered everywhere.
Renko is more than capable of dismembering the things down with her Nambu, meaning you just have to avoid stepping between their pincers when you smash their heads in. Which is not difficult when their limbs are all blown off. There were a few close calls where her weapon jammed (“stovepipe” you catch amidst a string of expletives), but between Mary's incinerating amulets, some frost spells on your part, and—when her pea shooter did fail—the auto-revolver, you've manage to keep all your limbs,
Thok!
Thok?
You're running dangerously low on onomatopoeia here.
This music certainly isn't helping things.
Niggaz With Ants?
(L.) Niger With Attitude?
You won't be held liable for murder if they start playing 'Fuck tha Police'.
You pass by another downed Protectron. By the looks of it, the ants either crush the legs at the joins, or swarm them to topple them down with their weight. Right smart of them, really.
But can they open doors?
No. These aren't velociraptors your dealing with. That one in the bathroom? Well, those doors open automatically by motion detectors.
And now this convenience of not requiring knobs on every door has become the greatest threat in the 'War on Hymenoptera' as Renko referred to it. Something to stuff in the cafeteria suggestion box, certainly.
SMAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!
Well, okay, that wasn't an onomatopoeia; that was just you embellishing how you busted the carapace off an ant without aid from the rest of the team.
'This is very cathartic.'
Half of the Protectron machines you pass have the dolls ripped out of them, violently, sometimes little limbs and stuffing are left. The other half of the machines are abandoned, the doll in it having apparently deciding that discretion was the better part of valor.
Luckily, due to the messages sent out (and in part due to your actions last night) most of the doors are still lit up in a red 'LOCKED' sign, although you get plenty of stares through the window blinds. This would have much to do with why you haven't discovered any human or fairy corpses, though the occasional injured or dead ant you come across indicates that someone is at least trying to fight these things.
You should be nearly there.
And you can see a familiar face now, rifle in hand, surrounded by dead ants herself and would be looking quite heroic—if she weren't absolutely covered in ant ichor. (Mary found out the hard way that lasers tend to make them 'pop', rather then provide the clean kill and/or dismemberment that bullets and amulets offer.)
“I know you. Sgt. Frisca was it?”
“And I know you, Special Agent Rockatansky, and Miss Usami. Here to finish what you started?” The officer's tone is more acidic than expected, but given present circumstances, you can understand that some of the Vault denizens might want your head on a pike. She doesn't raise her weapon at you, but given the hostility in her voice, you don't think she hasn't considered it. The wild look in her eyes and the hair matted against her forehead (to say nothing of the number of corpses) suggests she's been at this for quite a while.
“No, we're not looking for trouble.” You raise your arms to assure her you don't have any hostile intent. Well, you lower the one holding the bat quickly enough, anyway.
“I'd say it's already found us,” Ren chuckles, herself making no attempt to allay the officer's suspicions. “And you as well, officer.” She motions to the pile of ant corpses lying at Frisca's feet.
“Giant ants are nothing. I'll take arthropods with razor-sharp pincers over armed juvenile delinquents, hopped up on goofballs, any day of the week.”
“Goofballs? Well, I got some Med-X if you—oof!“ Ren coughs as elbow her in the gut.
“It's... good to see you're okay, officer. After all that had happened. Renko, well, she didn't really mean to shoot you, right Ren?”
It takes a prompting nudge. “What? No! I have... no memory of the event at all in fact!”
The fairy shakes her head in utter incredulity. “You have the right to remain silent, Miss Usami. I suggest you exercise it.”
You're not sure if that's a joke, or if she really is reading her her Miranda rights.
Let's assume the former.
“Right, well, we're blowing this popsicle stand, sergeant. You wouldn't happen to know what direction the armory is, would you?”
The fairy sighs. “It's cleaned out of weapons due to the APB call, so unless you're thinking of stealing some riot gear that won't fit any of you, I'd...” She looks away, “Advise you to collect what you need off the fallen,” she finishes bitterly.
“So, there wouldn't be one of those form-fitting Kevlar bodysuits sized for—“
“Spandex is privilege, not a right, sir.”
Curses!
She points down a hall strewn with blown apart ant chunks and splattered bug-blood. “If you're seeking to use the Overseer's emergency escape tunnel, her office is down this corridor.”
“Oh? You're helping us?” You didn't expect it would be that easy.
“I take my job very seriously, Mr. Rockatansky. As far as I'm concerned, you're nearly as much a danger to the Vault as these ants; if you want to go die in the Wastes, then that's one less insect for me to mop up after.” Noticing Renko sneering at the fairy's judgmental attitude, she corrects herself, “Sorry, I meant two less insects.”
“Well, um, thanks, I guess. Come on, Ren.” You usher the girl who is currently glaring daggers at the unfazed security fairy.
]“You hear that? I'm not an insect!” Mary whispers to the both of you, victorious.

—

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA26.mp3 ]

You're in the Overseer's office. Unoccupied, except for a few now-dead ants, and your three person party. It's furnished rather sparsely, and the air is colder than the rest of the Vault, such that you can see your breath.
Renko is at a terminal behind the desk, displaying text in a monochrome neon blue. The chair is too small, and the desk too short, so she just leans over to type. Eventually though, she becomes frustrated, hitting the same key multiple times, then allowing Mary access to do the same thing. After two more rounds of this, Ren is prying at the bookshelf behind the desk, which is supposed to be movable. Or at least how you remember it.
“'Inoperable during Vault emergency'?” You read off.
“It the fucking emergency escape tunnel! I think this qualifies as an emergency!” Mary points to one of the dead insects that were waiting in the Overseer's office, just for you it seems.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen. My shadow I left to operate the Vault in my absence tells me that the presence of 'xenobiotics' has locked the Vault under quarantine. It won't lift it until the infestation is cleared. I'd ask you to refer to page 451 of your Vault Operating Manuals, but I know for a fact you all lose your copies about as quickly as you get them replaced.“
“They are being picked up by sensors or something? Can't you just lie to it?”
“Send it dummy information?” Ren clarifies for you.
“Impossible. It's hard-coded into the... well, me that I cannot subvert the protocol. In fact, not even the Overseer herself can override the quarantine conditions once established.”
“Well that's just fucking peachy! Our clean get away is now a filth-ridden bug hunt. I didn't sign on for this, Dai!” Why did it have to be ants?
“Will you get your neuroses under control, Max? There's a lot out there way worse than ants, you know?” Renko coughs and quickly adds, “Uh, probably.” Yeah, nice save there, Magellan.
“Out there, maybe, but this is my home, my sanctuary! What happens in the Wastes was supposed to stay in the Wastes; now I find I've brought my work home with me, before I've even left the house!” How strained your metaphor becomes is probably a direct function of mental and emotional strain. Right now, you're two (maybe three) if-by-whiskeys away from a total meltdown.
“Max, it's not your fault. If anyone should be blamed, it's me; I'm the one who had that cavern hollowed out so they could build a shrine in it.”
Mary, you could be standing over the corpse of John Lennon with a copy of Catcher in the Rye in hand, and I still wouldn't be able to blame you for anything.
And Renko is clueless, as usual.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA27.mp3 ]

Which leaves... “Dai!”
“Shit.”
“What's the deal with the bugs, Dai! What's the fucking deal!”
“Well, this is only a hypothesis, of course, but the minor earthquakes we've been having—“
“What earthquakes?”
“Oh. Well. Neither you or anybody else should've been able to feel them: The seismographs registered tremors only about the 1–1.5 range on the Richter scale. However, it's possible that organisms more sensitive to seismic activity could pick them up.”
“And how long has this been going on for?”
“About... uh... seven or eight months?”
You resist the urge to facepalm. Instead, you take this time to practice your swing, plucking up tchotchkes from the overseer's desk, tossing them up in the air.
Snow globe?
“Checking this out was actually part of the reason—”
Strike one!
“A very small part of the reason, that I wanted you guys topside. But, I guess plans do change!”
Frosty the Snowman?
Your Pip-Boy buzzes out some nervous laughter.
Strike two!
“The oddest thing about it is its regularity: Every twelve hours the needle jumps a little, and quickly returns to normal.”
Olive, the other reindeer?
“So unless someone had the bright idea to build a Vault into an active volcano or a large geyser—”
Foul!
“This is a man-made phenomenon,” Ren finishes.
“Max that almost hit me!” Complains Mary. Seeing that you're not stopping, she moves out of the firing zone.
Magic ⑨ Ball?
“Precisely,” Dai answers Ren.
Right out the door! That's a home run!
Satisfied with the small amount of havoc you've wrought on an unsuspecting authority figure in traction, you bring the focus of the conversation back to the more immediate issues, “First however, we need to deal with these crazy giant ants. Which seem to be extremely hostile toward both man and knickknack alike.”
“Uh, right. Analyzing the sightings pooled from resident & security communications along with hall cameras, the source, or at least the main concentration, is in the Old District.”
“Right near the Shrine. So they're pouring in from a nest somewhere beyond the unfinished cavern?”
“Great, it is a goddamn bug-hunt,” Ren comments boredly.
“Sightings of considerably larger ants—these would be soldiers, probably—standing guard just outside the Shrine makes me wonder if they've already 'moved-in' so to speak.”
“Oh hell no!” Mary explodes. “Turn my shrine into a breeding pit for icky, squiggly things? They got another thing coming!”
“Uh, yes, I believe it's as Mary deduced, and that we'll find the queen there; regardless, we need to clear the place out in order to patch the holes that allowed them in in the first place.”
“Well, ladies, I believe we have our marching orders. Let's backtrack and see if we can recruit anyone to help us, huh?”
You all head back in the direction where you last heard laser fire coming from.

—

>“You've got a pretty face, and mean mouth, and you can hurl balls of fire. I think that qualifies you as the group representative.”
>“So I'm Hannibal, then?”
>“Nuh-uh, I'm Hannibal,” says Mary, thumbing at herself proudly. “You're Face Man Peck. But... I'll delegate.”
>“Mary, you don't smoke; how can you be Hannibal? I'm Hannibal. You're Murdoch.”
>“Well, then who's our B.A. Baracus!” Mary yells in what you hope is feigned distress.
>“You crazy, foo'!” Thanks, Dai.
>“I don't wanna be Murdoch,” Mary still complains. “'Murdoch' sounds like the name of a demon—I'm a priestess; I can't be conflated with demons!” As an afterthought she adds, >“Consorting is a maybe... but only if the price is right!” Whore economics, Mary?

Holy fuck, this' the Pulp Fiction of Fan-fictions.

[ (♫) ftp://falloutgensokyo.dyndns.org/Vault9PA28.mp3 ]

“Back so soon?” Sgt. Frisca is resting her chin on the butt of her carbine, obviously bored, despite the presence of a few new ant corpses. Half-smiling, maybe because you all must look quite dejected.
“We reexamined our priorities, and found that... clearing the insect infestation... just eked out a win over frolicking in radiation,” you explain.
“Taking a vacation in the Wastes is really rather silly if you have no home to go back to,” Ren adds.
“Goody gumdrops,” the fairy couldn't be more sarcastic. “All active security personnel has been ordered to set up checkpoints, so I'm afraid I can't help you there.”
“No, I think you've,” gesturing to the myriad insect corpses, maybe one or two added since you've last seen it, “helped us enough, sergeant.”
“You might find some security fairies in the clinic who are fit enough for duty, but haven't yet received or followed orders. As to whether they'd help you or not...” She glares a Renko, standing over your shoulder, “Who can say?”
“Forget the fairies, Max, they're useless,” Ren whispers into your ear. “I could have my Snakes hack through them ants in a nanofortnight.”
Mary is impatiently bending her gohei in both hands like a general's bullwhip, looking at any moment like she'll snap it in two. “You guys can take care of as many as you want, but I get the queen! I'm gonna curb-stomp that bitch and mount its head over my donation box!”
No objections here; you want to take on the alien queen in her den, by all means Ripley.
Well, it looks like you've got some choices here. You can't be in two places at once, but you can delegate. Though it would be more dangerous than moving as one group.

[ ] Check out the shrine area. Maybe this is something you can do on your own.
-[ ] Go by yourself. Sure, you might set the shrine on fire in a fit of myrmecophobia, but Mary would forgive you for that right? [Max]
-[ ] Send Mary. Her shrine; she'll protect it most fervently. Plus she's got that spell card. [Mary]
-[ ] Send Renko. She's built for this Rambo shit. [Ren]
[ ] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[ ] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[ ] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
--[ ] Hey, if someone starts making a ruckus, you can always remind them how got they in in there in the first place, and then stick them with some 'lazy pam'.
-[ ] Send Mary. She's the Vault priestess, of a fairy god specifically, and therefore whom they're most likely to listen to. [Mary]
-[ ] Send Renko. She can probably threaten to cripple them... more. [Ren]
-[ ] All bets are off with Daiyousei as the Vault AI, or they soon will be; she can convince the fairies. [Dai]
[ ] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes as cannon fodder to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[ ] Miss Ellen. You have to make sure she's alright. She could've mistaken one of the ants for a... dog or something! [Max]
[ ] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there.
[ ] Dai, get Tatara on the phone! She's a youkai, right? That means she has superpowers! [Dai]
[ ] Other (write-in)

AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[ ] Miss Ellen's got a large apartment. Tea and crumpets for everyone!
[ ] The diner. Today's... special... is roasted ant, Monsieur.
[ ] The cafeteria. You'll want real, Max Rockatansky, Level 3
║DNAᴱ: ♂Half-youkai (kirin, celestial)
║Occupation: N/A (criminal)
║Security Clearance: #ERROR#
║Vault ID#: 150-⑨-1195
║DOB: 9-22-2259
╟──────────────────────────────
║CND: Playing baseball (120bpm, 121/70mmHg, 98.7℉...)
║RAD: 0㎭
║ENV: ☣0㏙, ☠0㏙, ☢0㎮; Vault AM ambient (105㎪, 68℉...)
║EFF: Afterglow (+10 HP), Rested (fatigue immune for 12 hr.),
║Squeaky clean (+15 B-RES for 12 hr.)
╟──────────────────────────────
║HP: 250/240
║MP: 90/115
║AP: 77
║WT: 40/200
╟──────────────────────────────
║☠P-RES: 10%
║☢R-RES: 10%
║☣B-RES: 25%
║⇥DR: 16
╟──────────────────────────────
║☸ Karma: +350
║Alignment: Lesser Yang Road (⚎)
║Title: Citizen ⑨
╠ＳＰＥＣＩＡＬ═══════════════════════
║4 – Strength
║8 – Perception (+)
║6 – Endurance
║9 – Charisma
║6 – Intelligence
║6 – Agility
║5 – Luck (Today's Fortune: Disastrous Luck)
╠Ｓｋｉｌｌｓ════════════════════════
║23 – Barter (CHA)
║17 – Danmaku (AGI)
║21 – Explosives (PER)
║17 – Guns (AGI)
║21 – Lockpick (PER)
║52 – Magic (INT)
║19 – Medicine (INT)
║18 – Melee (STR) (+)
║17 – Outdoorsman (End)
║17 – Science & Repair (Int)
║32 – Sneak (Agi)
║52 – Speech (Cha) (+)
║[Note: Skills in bold are Tag skills.]
╠Ｔｒａｉｔｓ／Ｐｅｒｋｓ══════════════════
║What's in a Name – Acquire Karma at x2 rate.
║Animal Magnetism – Register more highly on animal's PER
║when not hidden; may affect disposition of animals & beast
║youkai.
║Chem Resistant – Chems work half as long, but are only half
║as addictive.
║Enlightened Comprehension – Skill books that give bonuses to
║Tag skills provide double the usual bonus; other skill books take an
║inordinately long time to read.
╟──────────────────────────────
║Bloody Mess – Things around you tend to die more messily;
║+5% damage.
║Lady Killer – You do an additional 10% damage to female targets;
║may also unlock new dialogue options with members of the
║opposite sex.
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Note: Individual Traits, Perks, and Skills can by be scrutinized
║further; e.g., “[x] Pip-Fairy:Status:TRAIT_NAME”]
║[Note: New additions are in bold.]
╚══════════════════════════════

╔Ｓｔａｔｕｓ════════════════════════
║Renko Usami, Level 3
║DNAᴱ: ♀Human, Japanese (Gensokyo-native)
║Occupation: N/A (criminal)
║Security Clearance: #ERROR#
║Vault ID#: 150-⑨-1187
║DOB: 6-25-2259
╟──────────────────────────────
║CND: Excited (102bpm, 122/75mmHg, 98.2℉...)
║RAD: 0㎭
║ENV: ☣0㏙, ☠0㏙, ☢0㎮; Vault A.M. ambient (105㎪, 68℉...)
║EFF: tobacco addiction (-1 END); Rested (fatigue immune for
║12 hr.).
╟──────────────────────────────
║HP: 220/220
║MP: 190/190
║AP: 83
║WT: 86/200
╟──────────────────────────────
║☠P-RES: 8%
║☢R-RES: 8%
║☣B-RES: 23%
║⇥DR: 25
╟──────────────────────────────
║☸ Alignment: Yin Road (⚋)
║Title: The Black Lotus
╠ＳＰＥＣＩＡＬ═══════════════════════
║7 – Strength
║5 – Perception (+)
║5 – Endurance (-)
║4 – Charisma (+)
║9 – Intelligence
║9 – Agility (+)
║4 – Luck (+) (Today's Fortune: Fair Luck)
╠Ｓｋｉｌｌｓ════════════════════════
║12 – Barter (CHA)
║22 – Danmaku (AGI)
║14 – Explosives (PER)
║51 – Guns (AGI) (+)
║25 – Lockpick (PER)
║22 – Magic (INT)
║46 – Medicine (INT) (+)
║51 – Melee (STR) (+)
║42 – Outdoorsman (END) (+)
║45 – Science & Repair (INT) (+)
║22 – Sneak (AGI)
║12 – Speech (CHA)
║[Note: Skills in bold are Tag skills.]
╠Ｔｒａｉｔｓ／Ｐｅｒｋｓ══════════════════
║One Hander
║Requirement: None.
║One of your hands is very dominant. You excel with single-handed
║weapons, but two-handed weapons cause a problem. You take a
║-15 to the relevant skill when using a weapon that requires two hands,
║and +10 bonus if it only requires only one hand.
║Stargazer
║Requirement: Special.
║You were a born savant in astronomy, and have an unerring internal
║clock. You always know what time of the day it is, even without
║environmental cues. Just by looking at the constellations and the
║moon, you can tell the date, along your exact position with a margin
║of error of only a few hundred meters relative to a well-known
║landmark. You gain an effective +5 to Outdoorsman at night; on clear
║nights this is increased to +10, and once you have found your path,
║you cannot fall off it, even under the influence of magic.
╟──────────────────────────────
║Gun Nut
║Requirements: AGI 4, INT 4
║Ranks: 1 of 3
║Benefit: You are obsessed with using and maintaining a wide variety
║of both energy-based and conventional firearms, and consequently
║you are a whiz at repairing & understanding mechanical devices.
║With each rank of the Gun Nut perk, you gain an additional 5 points
║to the Guns and Science & Repair skills.
║Survivalist
║Requirements: 4 PER, 4 END
║Ranks: 1 of 3
║Benefit: You are a master of the outdoors. Training for the worst has
║conferred the ability to survive in hostile environments. With each
║rank in the Survivalist perk, you gain an additional 5 points to the
║Outdoorsman and Medicine skills.
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Racial note: Humans lower initial S.P.E.C.I.A.L. points at creation,
║than do half-youkai, but receive an additional Tag skill.]
╚══════════════════════════════
╔Ｓｔａｔｕｓ════════════════════════
║Maribel Han, Level 3
║DNAᴱ: ♀Human, Caucasian
║Occupation: Shrine Maiden
║Security Clearance: Level 6
║Vault ID#: 150-⑨-1171
║DOB: 3-20-2259
╟──────────────────────────────
║CND: Excited (102bpm, 119/72mmHg, 98.5℉...)
║RAD: 0㎭
║ENV: ☣0㏙, ☠0㏙, ☢0㎮; Vault A.M. ambient (105㎪, 68℉...)
║EFF: Afterglow (+10 hp); Rested (fatigue immune for 12 hr.).
╟──────────────────────────────
║HP: 210/200 (+)
║MP: 190/210
║AP: 71
║WT: 34/200
╟──────────────────────────────
║☠P-RES: 6%
║☢R-RES: 6%
║☣B-RES: 6%
║⇥DR: 40
╟──────────────────────────────
║☸ Alignment: Yang Road (⚊)
║Title: Vault Priestess
╠ＳＰＥＣＩＡＬ═══════════════════════
║4 – Strength
║10 – Perception (+)
║4 – Endurance
║7 – Charisma
║5 – Intelligence
║2 – Agility (-)
║7 – Luck (Today's Fortune: Good Luck... you're gonna need it!)
╠Ｓｋｉｌｌｓ════════════════════════
║45 – Barter (CHA) (+)
║52 – Danmaku (PER) (+)
║26 – Explosives (PER)
║12 – Guns (AGI)
║44 – Lockpick (PER)
║52 – Magic (PER) (+)
║16 – Medicine (INT)
║16 – Melee (STR) (+)
║14 – Outdoorsman (END)
║16 – Science & Repair (INT)
║12 – Sneak (AGI)
║22 – Speech (CHA) (+)
║[Note: Skills in bold are Tag skills.]
╠Ｔｒａｉｔｓ／Ｐｅｒｋｓ══════════════════
║Border Sensitive
║Requirement: Special.
║You possess a unique gift that allows you to directly perceive
║topological discontinuities. You detect active bounded-fields within
║line-of-sight or radius-of-hearing, but you only know the laws which
║govern the bounded-field once you are inside of it.
║Divine Spellcaster
║Requirement: In service of a deity.
║You've dedicated yourself to a god or gods, allowing their power to
║flow into you, so long as you carry out their will. Your Perception
║rather than your Intelligence affects your Magic and Danmaku skill
║ranks as well as your MP pool. All other effects of Intelligence (such
║as bonus skill points per level) are unaffected by this trait.
╟──────────────────────────────
║Dedicated Caster
║Requirements: 4 INT, 4 PER
║Ranks: 1 of 3
║Benefit: Cook with it. Clean with it. Kill with it. The use of magic
║shapes every facet of your life. With each rank of the Dedicated
║Caster perk, you gain an additional 5 points to the Magic and
║Danmaku skills.
║Gokigenyou, Onee-sama!
║Requirement: Female
║Benefit: You posses a girlish elegance that makes other girls want to
║be you, or, even, be with you. This, you milk for all its worth.
║You receive a +15% discount when Bartering with someone of the
║same sex. You'll sometimes have access to unique dialogue options
║when dealing with the same sex.
╟──────────────────────────────
║[Racial note: Humans have lower initial S.P.E.C.I.A.L. points at creation,
║than do half-youkai, but receive an additional Tag skill.]
╚══════════════════════════════


The names in brackets designates who goes where. More than one person can go to the same place, possibly affecting the outcome, and decreasing the HP and/or MP they lose from random encounters. Similarly, one person can visit multiple places, again at the cost of time spent there and lower HP and/or MP due to random encounters. Sending some characters alone some places may result in their death or capture by security, but those choices are fairly obvious. Assuming everything goes well, you'll all end up at the chosen meet-up place prior to the assault.
There is no fixed time limit, but the ant queen's brood respawn constantly, which can again lead to decreased HP and MP, as well as deaths of recruited incidentals.

And we have stats for everyone. Inventory will come next time, though the equipment bonuses have already been applied.

You're almost out of the Vault. Really.

(RIP EAZY-E 1963-1995)

I love you.

THIS! THIS IS AN UPDATE! WOW!
You are the king.

>lobstrosity
I am not surprised at all and yet I love you even more.

>“How do you know you wouldn't like it, Max? How do you know you wouldn't love it?”
>“Here's a better question, voice-in-my-head:
I see what you did here and I clapped my hands in glee.

To >>104176 and all those agreeing with him, I would like to say :

YOU FAGS SURE GOT TOLD.

Thank you.

[x] Check out the shrine area. Maybe this is something you can do on your own.
-[x] Send Mary. Her shrine; she'll protect it most fervently. Plus she's got that spell card. [Mary]
[x] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[x] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[x] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
[x] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[x] Dai, get Tatara on the phone! She's a youkai, right? That means she has superpowers! [Dai]
[x] Miss Ellen. You have to make sure she's alright. She could've mistaken one of the ants for a... dog or something! [Max]
[x] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there. [Max]
AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[x] Kogasa's Potluck. Next to the Tower of Forgotten Chairs. Can't think of a more dramatic place to gather an army.

Coming up with a proper plan through discussion would probably be best, but I think this works out well enough with what we have. Might be overtaxing Max a bit, but he's a strong boy. He can handle it. Renko can gather the snakes, Mary can scope out the shrine, and we should have allies to gather, assuming having Max going to the hospital isn't a very bad idea, which is probably is if they aren't sedated especially given the strict time restraints we've given him. Any thoughts, fellow Anons?

>>106300
never been happier to be proven wrong

>>106306
With some more thought into it, having someone back Max up at the hospital while he takes care of the other two matters first would probably be better. Mary is the better choice for this as far as I can tell.

[x] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[x] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[x] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
[x] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes as cannon fodder to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[x] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there. [Mary]
- [x] Since that takes so little time, she should go ahead and secure the area where you're gonna meet up.
[x] Mother is the ace-in-the-hole, in case someone gets in danger, she can inform the other immediately and/or direct whatever is left of vault security to help them. [Dai]

AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[x] Kogasa's Potluck. Next to the Tower of Forgotten Chairs. Can't think of a more dramatic place to gather an army.

[x] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[x] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[x] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
[x] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes as cannon fodder to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[x] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there. [Mary]
- [x] Since that takes so little time, she should go ahead and secure the area where you're gonna meet up.
[x] Mother is the ace-in-the-hole, in case someone gets in danger, she can inform the other immediately and/or direct whatever is left of vault security to help them. [Dai]

AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[x] Kogasa's Potluck. Next to the Tower of Forgotten Chairs. Can't think of a more dramatic place to gather an army.

Sending Mary alone to defend the shrine rally seems like a bad move.

>Sending Mary alone to defend the shrine rally seems like a bad move.
I agree. Considering Mary's temper at the moment, it's likely that she'll try to liberate the shit out of the ants living on her shrine by herself.

>>106318
Nah, Max needs a short heart-to-heart with the doctor and the overseer (if she's awake) before leaving the vault for good. What are you afraid of anyway?
>║5 – Luck (Today's Fortune: Disastrous Luck)
See? That means that nothing can go wrong.

It's definitely an improvement over my initial vote at least. Seems kind of bad to be leaving Miss Ellen alone, but Meira might be there defending her which would make our presence unnecessary and potentially dangerous too.

>>104176 here.

I stand corrected.

I'm happy that I was wrong.

[1] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[1] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[1] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
-[1] Send Mary. She's the Vault priestess, of a fairy god specifically, and therefore whom they're most likely to listen to. [Mary]
[1] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes as cannon fodder to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[2] Check out the shrine area. Maybe this is something you can do on your own.
-[2] Send Mary. Her shrine; she'll protect it most fervently. Plus she's got that spell card. [Mary]
[2] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there.
[3] Miss Ellen. You have to make sure she's alright. She could've mistaken one of the ants for a... dog or something! [Max]
AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[4] Miss Ellen's got a large apartment. Tea and crumpets for everyone!

1. Max and Mary cover each other to the clinic while Ren gets her gang. Mary gathers the faithful to cleanse the shrine while Max eases his conscience. If shit goes down Mary can make a ruckus while Max gets away. Ren's job is to clear the areas Max is heading to since he has the least backup until step 2 is complete.
2. Max makes his way to the doll and fairy combo for backup while Ren continues onward to Miss Ellen's block. Mary starts to clean out her shrine.
3. Max and his small party head to make camp at Miss Ellen's. Once there, Ellen is suitably defended and Max is free to wisecrack over the radio or lend a hand at the shrine depending on how the battle against the queen goes. Ren and her Tunnel Snakes should be making their way over to the shrine to back up Mary.
4. Celebration! Ellen's place is already secured so why not kick back and enjoy the taste of victory crumpets. Plans to meet up can be changed accordingly. Like if Ellen is killed before you get to her. The crumpets could still be in the oven but they will taste like tears.

I'm pretty sure Kogasa can handle herself. Dai can just keep us updated on the situation at all times. tldr, Max strolls around while the girls do the dirty work.

[x] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[x] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[x] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
-[x] Send Mary. She's the Vault priestess, of a fairy god specifically, and therefore whom they're most likely to listen to. [Mary]

[x] Check out the shrine area. Maybe this is something you can do on your own.
-[x] Go by yourself. Sure, you might set the shrine on fire in a fit of myrmecophobia, but Mary would forgive you for that right? [Max]
-[x] Send Mary. Her shrine; she'll protect it most fervently. Plus she's got that spell card. [Mary]
-[x] Send Renko. She's built for this Rambo shit. [Ren]

[x] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[x] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there.

AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[x] Kogasa's Potluck. Next to the Tower of Forgotten Chairs. Can't think of a more dramatic place to gather an army.

I love your Kogasa.

Please don't kill anyone. I like all your characters.

Inquiry: 'Why the fuck is Sneak one of his tag skills? Has he even used it once?'
Suggestion: 'It may be more useful to change it upon exiting the Vault for good. May I suggest Danmaku?'

>>106392
Might come in handy if we don't get a party member to fill in the sneaking role. We should just focus on keeping our magic potent though. No need for danmaku training.

Hey, this is thread 018, isn't?

>>106397
What? This is the 7th thread for the story, unless you're talking about something else.

>>106397
Is it? Shit, I thought this was the second.

>>106393
That's way too situational to be useful.
Besides, knowing a skill doesn't hinder another. If anything, Danmaku should have synergy with Magic, if Fallout used that method, that is.

>>106400
I will admit that stealth is definitely situational, but from what I recall for this story, our danmaku skill is how well we can use our magic powers to be non-lethal. If we had that higher, we might not have had Dai giving mouth to mouth to Kisume, and that's just wrong!

>>106402
Your argument is compelling indeed.Still, I believe we need more information from the only reliable source: the author.

Dear writefag: Having high Danmaku and Magic skills will increase, decrease or not affect at all the MC's spells lethality? Will he be able to choose between lethal and non-lethal magic at will, as it'd expected?

>>106397

Err, I meant 08. The 1 was an accident and does not belong there.

I can't help but be reminded of that school in Fallout 3 right outside Vault 101. The one with the raiders trying to dig/blast their way into the vault, but they have to stop because they run into a bit of an ant problem.

But, I'm sure we don't have to worry about any raiders attacking here in the safety of the-

>“Oh. Well. Neither you or anybody else should've been able to feel them: The seismographs registered tremors only about the 1–1.5 range on the Richter scale. However, it's possible that organisms more sensitive to seismic activity could pick them up.”
>“And how long has this been going on for?”
>“About... uh... seven or eight months?”

>“The oddest thing about it is its regularity: Every twelve hours the needle jumps a little, and quickly returns to normal.”

>“So unless someone had the bright idea to build a Vault into an active volcano or a large geyser—”

>“This is a man-made phenomenon,” Ren finishes.

Oh

>>106525
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

>Inquiry: 'Why the fuck is Sneak one of his tag skills? Has he even used it once?'

The G.O.A.S.T. is a highly specific and rigorously-standardized test of one's natural aptitudes.

Really, though, sneaking has been used, though not nearly as much as Speech or Magic has been. Pre-G.O.A.S.T., there was a sleight of hand involving surreptitiously sliding a wrench up his sleeve. After the G.O.A.S.T. Max was able to surprise Renko in her own room and sneak attack Mary's armpits from behind. It was his unintentional discreetness that lead to Mary thinking he was Renko 'collecting payment', but eavesdropping on Ren's interrogation session with Yue was certainly an intentional use of this skill. An extended conversation with Kogasa was also contingent on having a high Sneak skill.

Sneak as a Tag skill is reasonably in line with a childhood involving multiple breaking & enterings, and the planning and execution of an outside-of-Vault exploration, but so are other skills. Choosing danmaku probably would have led to a backstory involving a more direct rivalry with certain parties (e.g., Ren and the Tunnel Snakes), and a more independent & aggressive personality.

tl;dr: I let you change it once. I'm not letting you change it again goddammit.

kirin can walk on grass with fire coming out of their hooves and not trample it, so yeah!)

>Dear writefag: Having high Danmaku and Magic skills will increase, decrease or not affect at all the MC's spells lethality? Will he be able to choose between lethal and non-lethal magic at will, as it'd expected?

The effects of having a high magic skill are analogous to the effects of having a high gun skill. While being more skilled with a firearm may enable you to aim away from someone's vitals more reliably, a bullet is a bullet and will still kill someone if it goes into the wrong place. Some guns (a canon, for example) are simply too lethal to do anything but kill and maim, and likewise, some magics (say, a save or die effect) are difficult or impossible to use merely for pacification purposes. Barring wacky things like spell cards and curses (contra Hekate qua fire goddess), naturalistic Greek magic mainly concerns itself with the creation (atmosgenesis) and manipulation (atmoskinesis) of elements.

Danmaku is the applicability of changing any form of damage into non-lethal damage, not just magic. With high enough danmaku you could fill the air with lead and not give someone any more than a bruise, while still causing immense pain and knock-outs. Think about how you take a -4 penalty when attempting to deal subdual damage in d20 with a lethal weapon. Danmaku obviates this penalty, while at the same time, it increases one's capacity to deal non-lethal damage with a weapon that otherwise be less effective.

In the games, and hence in historical Gensokyo, almost anything could be used for danmaku. In this setting, due to the border weakening, things have become more difficult. Magic has become weaker, and at the same time, more lethal. Similarly, magical beings, like youkai, are no longer immune to the effects of conventional weapons. (Though they retain superiority over humans in this regard, and are more readily affected by weapons with 'history'.)

>>106680
Ohhhh.

So I was right pretty much. If we had trained in danmaku, that scene might not have happened. Rather sad at the lack of votes though. What happened to all the people who voted last time?

[x] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[x] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[x] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
-[x] Send Mary. She's the Vault priestess, of a fairy god specifically, and therefore whom they're most likely to listen to. [Mary]

[x] Check out the shrine area. Maybe this is something you can do on your own.
-[x] Go by yourself. Sure, you might set the shrine on fire in a fit of myrmecophobia, but Mary would forgive you for that right? [Max]
-[x] Send Mary. Her shrine; she'll protect it most fervently. Plus she's got that spell card. [Mary]
-[x] Send Renko. She's built for this Rambo shit. [Ren]

[x] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[x] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there.

AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[x] Kogasa's Potluck. Next to the Tower of Forgotten Chairs. Can't think of a more dramatic place to gather an army.

>>107025

Still trying to finish reading the GREATEST WALL OF ALL WALLS. Seriously, I haven't finished it yet, but I'm a slow reader, so yeah.

>>106680
I hope you're happy anonymous writefag: I started playing Fallout 3 thanks to you. You owe me 10 hours (and counting)

So far, I'm a glorified scavenger (although the game titled me 'Wasteland Raider' or something like that) that makes a living by visiting abandoned storehouses and collecting burned books and empty bottles and by getting himself irradiated or maimed to satisfy the curiosity of a nutjob store clerk.
At the end of the day, after helping one or two innocent bystanders, he sleeps in an abandoned market full of bodies, dreaming that, one day, he will be able to fight 'the good fight' alongside the Brotherhood of Steel in the central Capital Wasteland.

The Vault part was too short though. Yeah.

>>107074
Seeing that massive wall made me start up yet another playthrough of Fallout 3 (This time, I'll probably try out a stealth/melee build) so don't worry, you aren't alone.

>>107185

Interesting, I did the same thing because of this story.
The Chinese stealth armor is awesome.

>>107025
the sites dead man.

[x] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[x] Go by yourself; you've ingratiated yourself with the doctor, at least. [Max]
--[x] At the very least, you can apologize to the Overseer and Kotohime (while they're hopefully still sedated).
-[x] Send Mary. She's the Vault priestess, of a fairy god specifically, and therefore whom they're most likely to listen to. [Mary]

[x] Check out the shrine area. Maybe this is something you can do on your own.
-[x] Go by yourself. Sure, you might set the shrine on fire in a fit of myrmecophobia, but Mary would forgive you for that right? [Max]
-[x] Send Mary. Her shrine; she'll protect it most fervently. Plus she's got that spell card. [Mary]
-[x] Send Renko. She's built for this Rambo shit. [Ren]

[x] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[x] You should probably check on that fairy you left with Orléans there... Lil' Miss Handy seemed a bit flaky, but that fairy might be some help, assuming she's still there.

AND you'll be in radio contact, but you need somewhere to meet up. Second, you're kind of hungry.
[x] Kogasa's Potluck. Next to the Tower of Forgotten Chairs. Can't think of a more dramatic place to gather an army.

>>107191
Right... The last update was on the old site, wasn't it?

>>107074

I think many of us played Fallout 3 because of this story. I know I did, and even named the MC as Max and tried the same attributes.

It was a nice game, but I thought there would be more to the Vault part than just 'escape or die'. Also, the game crashed a lot. I've been having BSoD ever since I installed it and even without it my pc still crashes sometimes.

>>107203
Tried the GOTY edition? Not sure how many things the latest patch fixes, but a majority of the (major) issues should be fixed that have existed since launch. There is also a lot more vault related stuff once you get further into the game. It just isn't the primary focus on the game though.

[X] Check the hospital for aid. Leading a fairy task force down the corridors would be kind of awesome.
-[X] All bets are off with Daiyousei as the Vault AI, or they soon will be; she can convince the fairies. [Dai]
[X] Using Renko's Tunnel Snakes as cannon fodder to clear the infestation is the right idea. [Ren]
[X] Miss Ellen. You have to make sure she's alright. She could've mistaken one of the ants for a... dog or something! [Max]

Meeting Place:
[X] Kogasa's Potluck. Next to the Tower of Forgotten Chairs. Can't think of a more dramatic place to gather an army.

updates?

>>109819

Been working on it. Had no computer over the holidays.

Is auto-sage 250? I'll probably make a new thread if that's the case.

>>109824
Yup, and we've now officially reached it.

>>109824
Hooray, looking forward to it.

It's been two months; it is update time yet?

>>111387

The writing is mostly done.

>>111545
Hooray

Months.

Guys, I think he's preparing the Great Wall of China.