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Previous quest:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=meguca+royale

Warning:
Madoka Magica spoilers. Do NOT read any of this if you haven't watched the original anime series. If little girls in frilly suits shooting pink lasers give you cringe, fucking swallow it and watch it you weak-ass motherfucker. It has great moral values. Suck it up.

INTRO (don’t skip this)

◕ Meguca Royale is a fixed multiplayer quest based on Puella Magi Madoka Magica. We will be using famous vTuber characters as stand-ins for NPC Magical Girls. It's all there already, after all: the cute dresses, the strong personalities, and the sheer suffering hidden behind cute smiles.

◕ Meguca Royale follows Richard 'Sad Richard' Abramovich, a man who wishes everyday he was a dog. It never happens. One day, a wishing star falls on his house and wrecks it beyond recognition, not even granting him his wish. Alone and homeless, he one day wakes up to find himself the only one spared by the exotic 'Mandela' epidemic, a virus that slowly but aggresively turns the phyisonomy and psychology of those affected into that of Morgan Freeman's.

◕ The update format this quest will follow is ‘sporadic, retardedly huge multiple gigaposts’. Because of capitalism, this quest will likely update at irregular intervals.

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STUFF (you can skip this)

◕ A few notes on narrative: Players are the consciousness of their character. Me, on the other hand, am the african american magical lamp peddler in charge of the /subconscious/ of the characters. This means that if for some reason you say ‘fuck it’ and decide to go full yuri menhera on an npc your character /will/ have to roll against the fear of being rejected.

Unless it’s Lucinda (but, she ain't here!).

Try not to build on top of the assumption that things are going to happen like you think they will: face everything as if poking strange, alien machinery. Red-eyed.

To keep with tradition, I'll use "Punching Jimena in the face" to illustrate my point: don't assume that she won't bend her face sideways to avoid it.

◕ FAQ:
Q: Six. Fucking. Months. Six.
A: Between the burnout piling up and having been assigned a completely different programming language than the one I applied for (yup, all that C# is in the trashcan) I just couldn't risk it. There were both the risk of fucking up all that building up and of fucking up /my/ building up my life back, so I think I might deserve a little mercy.

Q: Meguca Royale:Buenos Aires ain't even done yet. Really makes me wanna commit to your long-term turbo loli fanfic amigo.
A: Which is why I'm planning for this spin-off to be short! I'm planning it to be three threads long at most with the usual month-in-between interval if my niggucas still care. We will be taking it easy for now.

Q: Will the mechanics remain the same? Will Soul Gem tainting and traveling speed ever be relevant? What about. All. That. Shit. In the Mental Condiitons document?
A: Oh, that won't matter for now. Maybe it will! For those who memorized all that stuff I'm so sorry, I'll try to make it relevant I promise!

Q: Is bigguca ever coming back? Didn't we have enough of her in Lifathread already?
A: As I stated like six months earlier, yyyyyyyup. Even if you don't want her. Especially if you don't want her, lawl she comin.

Q: Hey fuckhead what about Jimena, Emma, Erika, Lucinda, Rita, and Helen with the edgy-ass background?????????
A: Not here; we will be starting from scratch with three new players! Guess what: I'm finally stable in my full-time job. If you think about it, that's actually good news. Think about this mini-spin-off as a way to shake the rust off my fingers, and as a way to see if people still care enough for me to suck that up again.

And trust me: I've thought about them.

Q: What happens if a player drops because life/got bored/etc?
A: The character they were playing becomes an NPC until they come back if they ever do.

Q: I jack off to megucas.
A: Hey, I won't judge; I'm into maids myself. But, we don't do that here. Right off the bat, I'll have to disappoint my fellow coomer brethren, since I can't see magical girls like that at all. We do a lot of handholding here though!

so! first things first:

first thread here will be to
a) see if anyone gives a shit
b) just like with the old quest, /chargen/.
a scary word, but trust me, not what you think. ill pick three players and, unlike last time where I wrote up the settings for their characters, give them each a background story for them to resolve as they want. in madoka magica, normal girls with personal problems are offered the opportunity to make a wish in exchange of becoming a magical girl that has to fight witches (i mcfucking insist: if you havent watched it, quit this shit and go you fuck). there won't be magic or jack shit now, it will be all boring-ass emotional love-dovey stuff until y'all make your wishes and see what's what.

the format for the request will be as following:

-Name: (write your shameless little girl self insert name here)
-Appareance: (write how your weird-ass menhera will look like. clothe descriptions are more than welcome)
-Quirks: (give her a little personality here. examples are very welcome. this space is vague intentionally, write what comes to head. feel free to be extense, but beware: simplicity has power.)


last thread went for like a year at least with 6 very gentle, devoted, and kind african american gentlemens, so you can take my word for it that your chargen efforts wouldn't go to waste

bit of a warning: i'm gonna pick up whichever ideas /I/ like the most. no rolling here, selfish as that. if i don't pick it, it won't mean your idea is bad, it will mean just mean that i found something to connect the others with (and i henceforth reserve the right of using yours later on in this quest should I please with or without your permission)

aight thread open

>>6030768
Oh shit it's megukin' time

>Name:
Koizumi Wakoko (Insists on being called 'Koko'. No one calls her this)
>Appearance:
Short, fluffy purple hair in a perpetual 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' state. Wears knee-high fishing galoshes (courtesy of her fisherman dad) and a ratty old hoodie her brother threw at her before leaving town to become a famous baseball star or some shit. Her mom left her a hair barrette in the shape of a dead fish before dying in a boat accident.
>Quirks:
Years of ingesting the local fish have given Koko a bad case of 'Mercury Brain'. She's a real space cadet even at the best of times, and spending her formative years watching her dad butcher fish like a budget slasher movie villain hasn't helped her personality much. TL;DR: definitely on the spectrum.

>>6030754
Alright, but could you spell out the core premise driving the game for the folks who only have a surface understanding of what a 'magical girl' is?
As players, what's our actual objective? Is this a cooperative or competitive multiplayer game?
Are we killing everyone else or working together towards some grand goal?
> Meguca Royale follows Richard 'Sad Richard' Abramovich, a man who wishes everyday he was a dog. It never happens. One day, a wishing star falls on his house and wrecks it beyond recognition, not even granting him his wish. Alone and homeless, he one day wakes up to find himself the only one spared by the exotic 'Mandela' epidemic, a virus that slowly but aggresively turns the phyisonomy and psychology of those affected into that of Morgan Freeman's.
What the fuck am I reading?

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>>6030796
>Alright, but could you spell out the core premise driving the game for the folks who only have a surface understanding of what a 'magical girl' is?
my titan of a man, if you haven't watched madoka magica i can only re-re-re-re-recommend that you skip this thread until you do- it's that good. that's, of course, your choice. the core premise of the game is that magical girls have to kill witches in order to purify their Soul Gem, which corrupts over time or as they use magic; everything else spans from this simple fact of the world

>As players, what's our actual objective? Is this a cooperative or competitive multiplayer game? Are we killing everyone else or working together towards some grand goal?
you can take the very first thread from the archive as reference if you want to be sure what you are in for, but tldr players will share a setting with each other, will be given a context, and can choose whether to cooperate or not accordingly. as for the 'actual objective', it's too early for that. just know that shit will go down after we are done with chargen

>What the fuck am I reading?
that's it. that's Meguca Royale. looking forward to your submission!

>>6030791
you commited a few cardinal sins by giving her a background yourself, but lucky you i do dig our new Wakokokokoko! now do me a solid and look for a pic of her yourself while I give her some of my soul cause i really like her

>>6030768
> Name
Rin Nakamora
> Appearance
Messy shoulder-length black hair with a heavy, eye-obscuring fringe. A rather plain face only notable in how it lethargically oozes from one vapid expression to the next. A lithe frame, bound with minimal muscle or fat, all wrapped in alabaster skin. No real conception of fashion sense, outfits are typically composed from the first things she pulls from her closet.
>Quirks
A blunt and profoundly dense girl, with no particularly outstanding qualities. However, through some unprecedented cosmic cock-up she has enjoyed a outrageous streak of serendipity over the course of her life so far. Mistaking this string of unveiled flukes as actual competence, this girl has grown rather arrogant.

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>>6030753
Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite sissy bitch weeb just in time for pride month. Hope you don't mind me backseating for the whole thread cuz that's what i'm gonna do
>>6030791
We are starting out strong I see, you got the right vibes for our ensemble.
>>6030796
Just follow your heart, make a girl, have fun and for the love of Madoka, put your foolish ambitions to rest. This place will humble you hard otherwise.

Good luck with this quest, Lumina. I would’ve thought the EoS of that Gacha game would’ve laid you out.
>I'm planning it to be three threads long at most with the usual month-in-between interval
So, Buenos Aires in December?

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>>6030822
Took ages finding something that wasn't AI-made, but here it is. That said, I think I may have committed another cardinal sin due to being confused.

Namely, are you looking for three completely new players? Or is this open to people from the last one? No problem either way if you want some new blood. I'm happy to watch like Jime's doing!

If you're fine with old players, though... I'll be happy to come out of RITArement....

>>6030906
i like this one because it's interesting yet leaves a lot of room to work with. the effects of good luck in psychology are always fun to explore

>>6030907
>if it isn't my favorite sissy bitch weeb just in time for pride month.
yuri is inherent to megucas for strictly logical reasons, so it felt fitting.

>Hope you don't mind me backseating for the whole thread cuz that's what i'm gonna do
i won't stop you from being merciful, but! would you stop yourself from letting the lulz flow? that is the true question and is up to you alone

>This place will humble you hard otherwise.
lawl senpa'ing from minute zero i see

>>6030973
not gonna lie, that might be the core reason why im back despite still having work. magireco deserves as much, and since im a poorfag from a third world this is what i can do to honor it

>So, Buenos Aires in December?
not making promises!

>>6030985
...awwwwwww. well, damn, i guess that's my bad for not being specific enough. yeah, the idea was to greet new players only. i always recall having left some of them out in the first thread, so I wanted to give them another shot. no wonder the design felt so in tune with the tone of the quest, it was our very own Rita still here and kicking. tell you what, i already spent like 3 hours working on the backstory lawl, so lets do this: if we are short on players you get in only cause i fucked up, but if we get three new ones (and y'all don't try to lie cause at this point im pretty sure i could smell you out) then Wakoko be an NPC

furthermore:

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Like glitter on a cake, sunlight sparkled against the lazy sea by the shores of Osaka Bay. The sun spied from the window as little Koizumi Wakoko, age five, laughed like a retard on fire while smashing the flailing fish’s head against the edge of the desk, over and over. No hit would quite kill it. His father’s grimace loomed over her shoulder, the man thankful for not being born a fish, who was yet considering that at least its suffering should end soon enough… while his own would last at least thirteen more years.

Crack.

Finally realizing that the fish had gone limp (at least a full minute late), Wakoko’s big eyes pierced into it to see what had changed, but her curiosity had been left lingering as the golem of a man that was her dad took it and put it on the table. The knife had a long handle, a small, sharp blade, which, under the two suns in her eyes, went into its belly and slowly made its way across. Pink guts came out; bloomed open by dad’s big fingers, the flesh had a reddish tingle that Wakoko wouldn’t quite forget for as long as she lived.

Knife goes in,
Guts come out.

Knife goes in,
Guts come out.

Crack.

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In 1971, Japan had seven hundred thousand seagoing workers.
In 1990, it had half of that,
and while Wakoko was smashing that poor fish who must have been Hitler reincarnated, it had less than eighty seven thousand active workers.

The advent of new jobs and commodities, the introduction of options that came with the rise of technology had left people with other choices than going bay fishing, which was risky and required physical strength. Not only that; sonar radars, GPS trackers, the advents in large-scrape deep-sea fishing… Traditional fishermen like the Koizumis, barely scraping by through grit and white rice, were also being left behind by the huge leaps in technology. Not without putting up a fight, of course; for some of them, fishing was all they had. The small boats would leave even in the cold winter mornings, carrying nets, rods, spare reels, and boxes filled with cheap bait and colorful lures, manned by grim men whose attitude was sculpted by the fresh winter winds. Inside her dad’s little cabin, chopping fish just like he taught her, little Wakoko was oblivious to how this lingering sense of impending doom was shaping the culture around her. Because she’s, well, not a very sensitive girl, or very empathic for that either, not really,

but she is, and nobody else knows, quite the scientist.

This time, instead of just taking the guts out, she took a good luck at them- almost burying her nose on the shit and intestines. The knife then became a scalpel, and fish after fish would end up less than the last, open wide on the table like a map to a buried treasure. The heart, the liver, the pancreas, the kidney and stomach; fish after fish, knife after knife, certain parts would always look the same. It couldn’t be, mini Wakoko thought, that they all had such a specific shape for no good reason. Laid out bare in front of her like a puzzle to be solved, neatly arranged in careful order, it was like the rotten organs of dead fish were taunting her.

Then it happened.

It happens to all of us; most don’t even remember it. One time, during our childhood, something makes us as happy as we’ll ever be- and we spend the rest of our lives chasing a high like that. Wakoko is fully convinced that even back then she finally understood, after weeks spent with dead fish with vapid, stupid stares, how the organs fit together in a system, and what each of them does. Only many years, eight years later, would Wakoko finally be able to explain it properly to his father, as the man is having the breakfast that will have to carry him to the end of his shift. Who even now is still thinking about that fish.

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Wakoko: -and then there’s the Pyloric Caeca! The one that looks like a finger? Well, that one helps the whole process by secreting enzymes that help to absorb the food that the fish ate. Oh! An enzyme is like, um, a liquid! It’s protein, mostly. And we have it too!

From under that woolen black beanie, stained with white paint, Wakoko’s giant of a father simply ‘hmmd’ almost in reverence, the sound reverberating from behind his massive gray beard. He knew of few things that could make his daughter smile as much as talking about awful shit and gore, but he liked seeing his daughter happy, so he just ‘hmmd’. There was not much point in following her speech, though: it was as if in a different language. At some point, though, even Wakoko would remember that the rice was getting cold, and he patiently waited for it to happen before spitting words himself.

Wakoko’s father: How’s the dog?

Wakoko: Lbivbelby!

Wakoko’s father: Mouth.

Wakoko: Oh!

Regardless, it was good to hear. Lately, there are a lot of things that the girl doesn’t notice. The first dog he found her with was, well, half a dog, but at least she was wearing a mask and using gloves. Puking was all that kept him from slapping the ever living shit out of that eight years old ass, but it also was what gave him time to reflect and tackle the moment carefully. After all, people sell their boats sometimes to pay the doctors.

No one else has to know.

Wakoko: It already woke up this morning, but it’s still moping about ‘cause anesthesia ain’t cheap, you know? The poor little thing (shakes head): it had a Sakura Cardcaptors toy blocking its anus. Do you want it? We can put it over the bow of Mom’s ship.

Wakoko’s father: No.

More rice. The man stands. It’s 6 AM. The sun isn’t even out yet, but college won’t pay itself and fishing, like his son said, is a dying business.

Wakoko: I love you, dad! Have a nice day!

The old, jaded fisherman doesn’t answer as he leaves . Wakoko knows it doesn’t matter: working hard is how he hugs. Wish she had some of those, though. Outside their private cabin, the dock extends into the endless dark, and the dark merges with the sea below, as if dark and cold was all there ever was.

When she stands, Wakoko takes a moment to grab her head. Slowly but surely, she’ll be fine again
it’s just another headache.

Of the clawing noises of the streets of Osaka only a faint, dying screech reaches here; after all, this is the secret world that keeps it alive. Oh well. She’ll have to follow it soon enough. Although it’s early, the school she attends is far.

…

…

…
What
What is this?

The alarm is still blaring wildly from the wreck that was a car; it all happened too fast or Wakoko was too slow to notice or both. Still dazzled, the shaking girl looks at her own hands, her own arms, her own legs, her own feet, feeling the veins and the blood pulsing through them. She’s still standing; it’s all still there, still inside, all the components of the system-

-unlike the contents of the girl that's splattered across the floor, almost split in half like a dirty, ragged cloth. Wakoko blinks, still stunned by the heavy sounds. Pancreas. Intestines. Liver. She’s seen these before, she sees these all the time. The head: the cranium is shattered, the eyes look vapid and stupid, as usual. Dead; she’s dead. Like always, Wakoko finds herself grabbing guts with her own two hands, only this time the guts are pretty big. Inspecting. Analyzing. Learning

until the shrillest scream she’s ever heard reminds her of the world.

People have gathered around. There’s light, flashes, a ton of cellphones much more flashy than the humble A11 she uses to steal wifi from the neighbor by hiding in the dog’s house.

Then reality sinks in.

>Run.
>Stay.

that's the idea for the format right now: give each girl a context and see how they deal with it, like a miniquest for each. aight! let's wait a bit and see how many people care

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oh also i'll let only ri-wakoko vote for this one, since its hers and we still don't know what will be of her questwise. at worst this is a demo or somthing lele

>>6031049
I'm happy to bow out if other folks come in--don't want to make shit too tricky for ya. And no worries--if 3 people show up then I'll be happy to watch from the sidelines. Just glad you're running something again, dude!

>>6031090
Ha ha! Awkwaaaaaard.
>Run
Normally Koko'd stick around for this prime research material, but all the lights and flashes are really irritating. She HATES that shit, man

>>6030754
YOU LIVE!

>>6030759
>I'm finally stable in my full-time job.
https://youtu.be/rpTlZMLZh0w?feature=shared

>>6030796
>What the fuck am I reading?
Don't worry about that, become meguca first, thoughts later.

>>6031049
>the idea was to greet new players only.
No problem with me, I'll be here if you're short of players or decide to increase the roster.

>>6030907
>>6030985
Eyyyyy, the menhera sextet is back together.

>>6030973
>Good luck with this quest, Lumina.
Tha gatcha quest was yours? Got to check the archive now.

>>6031523
Glad to see you and Jime are still alive! Was worried Meguca was lost to the sands of time...

>>6030973
Gonna have to check out this Gacha game too. Been a while since I had my Lumina fixxxx

>>6030796
QM's a goofball and likes to joke around, but writes some fine stuff. Would definitely recommend checking out the archived threads and making a character! Lumina's one of the good ones

Well, this is unexpected, and in a good way!
Welcome back QM, though apparently you were around running a gacha quest. Was it Deus Novus? Not many gacha quests in the suptg archive.
Good to see you doing better, and thanks for the heads up about a potential Buenos Aires thread in a few months. I'll probably need that much time to re-read everything, and the Lifa-posting, and the prequel thread with Lifa, and track down that Twitter link of yours you said was somewhere.
Honestly, I'm kinda glad it's newbies only for this one. I don't think I could make another guca to put through the wringer of cursed rolls at the worst possible time I seem to attract. Also because I have just last week been told my current workplace is letting me go at the end of July, and I am now looking for a job again. This feels familiar... There go my vague plans for quest-running most likely.

>>6030796
I played it and I still don't know. Mostly because we're still in chapter 1, despite everything going to crap. I tried making a guca with a solid support network who'd outlast the others with the mental health mechanics, and then I got bad rolls in a 1-year timeskip (in the prologue, yes) which broke my guca so hard half of my actions were trying to put her back together and failing, and the other half were general moping about while the world was ending. 10/10 though, would keep playing. Definitely different from your usual 4chan or even qst fare, but then again my favorite quests are the small committees where everyone knows each other despite us being anons still, so be aware of that, and same goes for anyone wanting to try this out. Your guca may start as a throwaway joke (just look at a certain someone's anatomically improbable wish), but she probably won't stay that way for long.

>>6030754
>>6030768
>Name
Marie-Antoinette Desire (Or "Marie". She doesn't like her name but she didn't choose it.)
>Appearance
A dark-skinned girl with large, black, kinky hair that's still kept under control. A foreigner who would stand out in any crowd you could put her in. She usually wears brown or black boots and a sweater in the same colour, trying her best to not stand out. She also usually carries a large backpack filled with random electronics.
>Quirks
She's a mostly calm girl. Except when she talks about something she's knowledgeable or skilled in, then she rambles a lot, very loudly, and without letting the other person talk. She also dislikes it when others insult her hair, she spends an unbelievable amount of time taking care of it. Overall, a normal girl, unless you count the part about her being obssessed with breaking into places.

This looks interesting. I looked a bit into your previous thread and you seem like a very talented, if not hard-working, QM. I hope I'm doing this right and can join.

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only now am I finally free from my job. sadly enough, we'll all have to get used to this pattern from now on. i'll try to pitch in when traffic is slow, but at least now we'll finally have a proper schedule. time to reply!

>>6031136
>Just glad you're running something again, dude!
aww thanks man. i'm glad to be running too. i think im gonna like not having to worry about interviews while i write

>>6031523
>YOU LIVE!
and you guys too! i wasn't expecting to find so many of you here already. i hope lucinda and helen are doing fine too

>Tha gatcha quest was yours? Got to check the archive now.
oh no, that one's not mine. i haven't run (or even written) anything for over half a year other than code and my own book

>>6031535
>Gonna have to check out this Gacha game too. Been a while since I had my Lumina fixxxx
but that ain't mine! if it doesn't have a) megucas and b) hard-working and honorable african american citizens making meets end it ain't mine

>Lumina's one of the good ones
no no don't make me blush, it'll go to my head and i'll start acting all stacy-like and condescending, i'll say stuff like 'if you don't like it there's the door'

>>6031590
>though apparently you were around running a gacha quest.
im getting increasingly curious about said gacha quest, but i get where this coming from. Magia Record, the gacha from which pretty much inspired all of this, is shutting down two months from now on after seven years, and not even because it's doing poorly. this really, really hurts me like to the point of tears because there's the very real chance that i'll never get to see anything quite like it again so i decided that running again was the right way to cope and honor it

>I'll probably need that much time to re-read everything
don't worry about that, read it only if you feel like it. if we end up back in Buenos Aires after a year i'll take my time to make a summary and tl;dr that will have all of the information that could be relevant. im still not making promises, and i recall that it was hard for you to read through my walls of text so don't force yourself to. im already happy enough to see you back here pitching in!

>and track down that Twitter link of yours you said was somewhere.
at this point my twitter account is just an endless collection of meguca pics. i made it my hobby to comment on what the japenese artists posts to tell them how pretty i think their stuff is and they seem to really like it, so that became the whole point of my account by now. just like two days ago one of my favorite artists drew my favorite character for me. pic related!
but if you still want to track me down, there's the clue

>the spoiler
what a kick in the balls. but don't lose heart, even the experience you've accumulated in these months should be enough to land you somewhere else, or at the very least it should make things easier one way or the other. that being said, even if job comes first and quest comes second you can still run something light!

>>6031599
a dark-skinned girl in my japanese animes! not gonna like, i'm getting some low-key-stacy vibes over here. question: besides abandoned buildings, amusement parks, concerts, aquariums, and school at nights, does this 'breaking in' tendency include other people's houses? this is more important than it seems

>and you seem like a very talented, if not hard-working, QM
with the experience i have i can attest that doing any kind of art is 1% talent 99% sitting in front of the pc clawing your hair not fucking because the sentence doesn't sound right, or is too long, or you've already used it too much, or the phrasing looks weird, or it could lead to a plothole or because it contradicts the character's personality, and when it's good prose it's not clear enough and when it's clear enough it's too plain and boring like a paragraph on a medical book about testicles- so you write it again. but thank you!

aight thing is like this: if by tomorrow (like eight hours from now) we don't have a third guca then we'll roll with wakoko. for now, i'll continue to write her and her alone so that, if we get a new trio, i can start them up at the same time in parallel. writin in a bit!

>>6031590
>Mostly because we're still in chapter 1
I'm going to be stuck in that cursed tower till the end of time and you on that boat arc. Good to see you all tho

>>6031714
>all of the information that could be relevant
why can't helen whistle? why does the hair color description keep on changing from reddish-gold, crimson, or blood red?

>>6031730
>why can't helen whistle?
some fucker at the orphanage punched her in the throat, which is irrelevant cuz that got fixed when she became a magical girl. so, it's still a mystery

>why does the hair color description keep on changing from reddish-gold, crimson, or blood red?
i recall helen being very convinced that there was something living inside her hair, even before making her very interesting contract. but, coordinators can't use magic, now can they? and her magic was sealed by A-chan so that she wouldn't explode or something. strange, isn't it?

this is my way of saying: i don't give secrets for free. also good to see Helen-a back! you guys showed up on such short notice

also
>>6030906
>>6031599
rinanon and marianon, im also tasking you with finding a pic you'd like for your guca, cause
a) you'll run her so might as well like her
b) im lazy

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>>6031744
Here.

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>>6031720
>question: besides abandoned buildings, amusement parks, concerts, aquariums, and school at nights, does this 'breaking in' tendency include other people's houses? this is more important than it seems

No, unless they ask.
People generally don't like it when you break into their house, even when you explain that their keyway is vulnerable to wave rakes and kinetic attacks. In fact, especially after you say that.
So she got rid of inhabited houses from her list of targets at Age 12.

>>6031744
Here.

I'm very sorry Wakoko, but this seems too fun of a quest to pass up (though I probably won't be able to come up with as fun a character concept)

>Name
Akiko Okaya
>Appearance
Long white hair in a ponytail (may or may not be bleached) with purple eyes (may or may not be contacts over normal brown eyes). Thin and rather weak, but always has a confident good-natured grin on her face. Dresses up well, because looking cool is everything!
>Quirks
Unfortunate tendency to use strange metaphors she thinks are cool instead of being comprehensible. Despite how she comes off, surprisingly insightful and offers good advice, if you can decipher it through the layers of nonsense she buries it in. Thinks of herself as the cool mentor/rival to whoever the protagonist is, there to be the beacon of hope in the darkest hour and sacrifice herself in the process since that's what all the coolest characters do. Secretly afraid of death and a huge coward who won't follow through

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>>6031882
No problem at all! I gracefully and happily withdraw--lord knows I've got enough on my plate with Ritaliiin. Who knows--maybe the Buenos Aires gang will have a field trip to Japan and meet you fuckers!

>>6031744
You've got a third player, pal--go ahead and retire Wakiki and let some new blood have some fun!

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>Run

Dazzling lights, deafening sounds, and constant flashes overload Wakoko’s senses as tender flesh keeps her dripping hands warm in this cold, dark world. Still mesmerized by the alien texture her fingers touch, the blurry faces from the crowd seem to lose their shape until Wakoko swiftly darts away from the spotlight, not out of a sense of worry or danger but simply because her eyes and ears hurt. If she was being chased, she didn’t notice. Osaka is one of the busiest cities in the world. Once lost in its veins, flooded by sleepless salarymen and takoyaki stands, finding anyone would be like finding water in a river of blood. Wading through the faceless, Wakoko felt /grumpy/. After all, that was very inconsiderate of them- she was already nursing a headache to begin with.

…

The bus ride is half an hour long, spent, as usual, staring at the void behind the tarnished window next to her seat. From the outside, she would seem lost, a bit dead even, but inside her head dots kept coming together in all kinds of ways. She couldn’t fully wash out the blood that had coagulated on her hands, and the shape and texture of a human organ lingered in her mind, even its scent. But then her mind would wander on its own to more terrenal things, to more normal things most would say. Yesterday, she was included in a group assignment without having to ask herself. And then that day, that one guy in class had asked for her opinion on the band their friends were talking about. She didn’t and doesn’t know anything about that kind of stuff, nor does it interest her, and to this day she can’t even begin to grasp why no one else is as fascinated by anatomy as she is, or at least find it important to learn about- since they all have a body to look after. And yet, and yet, and yet; little by little, grinding it up, Wakoko knows she’s getting close to finally making a friend.

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Stepping off the bus, or more like falling off it, Wakoko is still grumpy. She thought the scene was as interesting as everyone else, but that was just… mean! Bitching in dreamland, her eyes vacant, she joins the wave of students gently crashing into the school, all wearing the same white shirt and long tie combo that Wakoko hides under the thick black hoodie she brings to the sea. Oh, the sea… you grow to like it, she thinks. So quiet, so peaceful- even though, when the sun rises over the horizon, the crewmates get all touchy and feely for some reason.

As Wakoko steps into the classroom and eyes, she asserts with absolute certainty, if such a thing is possible, that no one will be touchy and feely with her today. After all, that’s Junko Imeredala sitting by the desk stacked next to hers.

Junko: Grand Autismo 8 came out today.

As Wakoko sits, Junko is still trimming her nails, not even looking at her. Then she sniffs, sniffs, sniffs.

Junko: You took a bath. Good for you, good for you…

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Although Japanese schools are often very strict regarding the position of the desks, this is Osaka. And although this is a very distinguished school, although Wakoko is piss poor, this is still Osaka. As the usual chatter grows, as the desks merge into islands, the fisher girl takes out the blowfish-shaped pillow she keeps in her bag, where the textbooks should be. Junko is not the prettiest girl in school, not the most popular, and not the smartest either, but she’s always a strong contender for first place in more areas than most people would consider. Long black hair, green emerald eyes, bulky breasts, and the resting bitch face that all other resting bitch faces pray to every night; she doesn’t look Japanese at all.

Wakoko: You missed the mark, Junko. The last Grand Turismo to come out was the seventh one.

Junko: Dear. If only you knew as much about shampoo.

Wakoko: Hello Junko-san.

Junko: Hello Wacko.

Yet Wakoko smiles- even though she still feels dizzy.

Wakoko: I only know because I play the third one a lot with my dad when we have time. It’s kinda fun, I guess!

Wakoko doesn’t really like it, and she doesn’t know that her dad doesn’t like it either- but, both think that the other does, and that’s what matters.

Junko: Did I ask?

Wakoko: No?

Junko: Oh, you are right.

This, whatever this is, is the closest thing to a friendship that Wakoko managed to pull off so far; this secret, tacit arrangement with Junko, the top bitch of her class. It, well, still seems kinda far from one, but there’s always room for improvement in anything. It was never spoken aloud, never agreed upon, never broken, and is still there. Wakoko doesn’t want to be the loner of the class and Junko doesn’t want to be the bully of the class; Wakoko gets to look like a friendly geek and Junko like a kind sister

and neither could be further from the truth.

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The teacher walks into the classroom, apparently nursing a headache himself. Junko stands from her seat.

Junko: Kiritsu! (Stand up!)

The students stand.

Junko: Rei! (Bow!)

Then bow.

Junko: Chakuseki! (Sit!)

Then sit, except for Wakoko who was sitting and now stands- until Junko drags her down by the hand.

Wakoko: ow

Junko: What’s this?

It’s Junko’s hand that’s now slightly sticky and reddish. Eyes wide open, she gazes upon the loner. Who shrugs.

Wakoko: It’s just blood.

Junko: …Shit, girl, why was I even worried?

Grimacing and shaking her head and hand (mumbling ‘disgusting’), Junko just looks away. Perhaps she keeps Wakoko close because she’s a great metric on what not to be. The teacher clears his throat. He knows what’s coming. At the very first word, no, at the very first sillabe to come out of his mouth- six rows of cellphones come out in perfect unison. He doesn’t even sigh. Earlier this year, Junko had spearheaded the school council into encouraging the use of cellphones in class, armed both with solid arguments and charisma, that and like thirty-seven guys that wanted to fuck her brains out, and maybe one or two actually in love. It worked. Wakoko, who already spends most nights doing actual, honest-to-goodness, high-level research through her humble apparatus, instead slides right over her beloved, ironically spiky fish- even though she’s right in front of the teacher. In every single other Japanese highschool she would be called out on the spot, and she did spend many awkward hours in front of that blackboard- but everyone gives up some day.

Today, however, her nap got cut short.

Wakoko: ow. Hey, that hurts.

…The usual resting bitch face is nowhere to be seen. In its place, the eyes of an owl stare right at her, distracting Wakoko from the screen almost shoved to her nose. Reeling back, accumulating grumpiness, Wakoko just mumbles harsh words as her eyes focus on the bright screen

and sees herself.

…

Junko: …Bitch. What. The. Fuck.

Ignoring Junko, Wakoko visibly turns around, a bit lacking in subtlety- only to find many eyes stabbing her back like spears. Some glance from over their cellphones, others straight-up point at her- all whispering. Even Junko.

Junko: It’s- it’s in the group chat. It’s… it’s on Twitter, X, whatever. That’s- you. You killed someone.

Wakoko: What? No, she was already dead. That liquid coming out of the craniu-

Junko looks at the screen with piercing intent, for a while, as the teacher, still talking, remains oblivious (or outright doesn’t care already) to the hysterics unfolding. The Wakoko on the screen runs away, casually dropping a chunk of meat on the way out-
and Junko can’t stop shaking her head.

Junko: Ok. So this girl just like /was fucking wrecked/ in an accident right in front of you and you just… grabbed her guts. The shit inside her.

Wakoko: Yes, that’s it! I study-

Wakoko finds herself chewing on a hand sandwich, her words blocked. The whispering grows behind them like a tsunami.

Junko: Ok. You are a psycho. You are a fucking idiot, also. And dear, you are in such deep shit.

Wakoko pushes the hand aside. Those mean words were finally beginning to get her upset. The new headache wasn’t helping either.

Wakoko: No- no, I’m not! I just touched it! She was already dead. It didn’t matter anymore.

Junko: …You don’t know. You truly can’t take a guess.

Still shaking her head, Junko is speaking tenderly when she isn’t biting her lower lip- which only makes Wakoko even madder, mad enough to feel scared of herself.

Wakoko: And wh-wh-why do you care?! You don’t get to be mean to people just because! It’s not even your problem!

Junko: Yes, it is.

The honorary president of the student council grabs her head. Whatever Wakoko was going to say decides to back off to her throat the moment she sees Junko’s face. Which is scary as fuck.

Junko: Yes, it is.

Yet, Wakoko’s anger is strong enough to overcome dizziness for the first time in years. She feels fooled. She feels… pranked, the target of a very mean, needless joke. All this aside, what problem could someone like Junko Imeredala have? What would she even know about real problems? About starving? About getting caught in a net? She’s just the perfect girl with the perfect image and nothing more- and she will now say all that to her face, all those mean prejudices that she had accumulated all this time, that she swallowed to be polite-

Junko: Turn yourself in… as fast as you can.

Yet before Wakoko could-

Junko: Don’t let them find you on their own.

-more sharp words come her way. It did take a while; but Wakoko managed to be worried. She considers: if this, for some reason /is/ that grave, if it /is/ that bad... She looks at the video again; the girl does look like her, and all of her classmates seem to think so as well, and there may be many more videos like this one- but maybe it’s still not enough. If she turns herself in, it’s guaranteed that the entire world will know that it was her who did that, her name will be on a big screen, and if it’s that bad then this will haunt Koizumi Wakoko for the rest of her life. But if she hides… if she manages to play it dumb, and dyes her hair and all that… Wakoko, thankfully, isn't that distinctive, certainly not as much as Junko. With some smarts, all of this may come to pass, and maybe only come back every now and then as nothing more than a bad dream.

>Turn yourself in.
>Pretend it wasn’t you.
>Write In!

>>6031927
Imeredala, of course. This seems to be going south pretty fast but fuck it, I don't have to tell Ritanon shit, not while my character is on stasis at least
>>6031730
>>6031590
>>6031523
>>6031136
oh boy, the gang is almost all here, or it is all here if that anon that came after me is Luci like I think. Not even six months of fuckery can keep us apart!
>>6031599
>>6031882
>>6030906
a very neatly balanced trio of autist, very good, not the complete insanity that's the BA 6. That's a very high standard to live up to, rookies, but I'll watch your careers with great interest

Akiko still needs a pic though

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>>6031891
Just wanted to say very sorry again- Wakoko's story is extremely interesting right now, and I have no clue how you're going to get her out of this one! unless a certain little creature is involved
>>6031990
It's going to be hard to match up to a magical girl with literal shit themed magical clothing, but we'll certainly try, I'm trying to catch up on what went down in Buenos Aires

Also here's Akiko, just imagine her as more smugly chuuni (hard to find good pics of chuuni white haired girls)

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ok so i already got attacked to Wakoko so we'll at least finish her story. not sure i'll manage today, but it should be one or two more posts at most. let's consider this an introduction

>>6031784
pic related

>>6031790
ok, so she does care a bit at least. i like that design, we can now tackle that diversity quota that Jimena used to fill

>>6031882
this one has potential, gonna take my time. find me a pic peter parker. wait, jimena beat me to it.

>>6031891
>maybe the Buenos Aires gang will have a field trip to Japan and meet you fuckers!
The day had come. Five, no, six, no, nine, nine players at the same time, nine menheras with very severe emotional issues. The bag of coke was ripped apart like the clothes of a cheap hooker, then down came his face into that white beach. Nine players; that's a lot of oni-chan yamete. No one else would do it.

>You've got a third player, pal--go ahead and retire Wakiki and let some new blood have some fun!
who knoooooooooooooooooowsssszzz

>>6031990
>I don't have to tell Ritanon shit
lmao jimena is only senpai to her kouhais, and yes we can talk weeb cause this is megucas japan

>a very neatly balanced trio of autist, very good, not the complete insanity that's the BA 6
it does seem congruent so far. but we'll see

>>6032030
gotcha. akiko certainly strikes me as a tribal leader, those guys putting up huge masks, screaming high, doing rain dances. its a hard pattern to explain

aight, we finish wakoko while i think up the new trio. no more entries; these are the new girls. i was tempted to say 'team', but technically the BA6 only share a cloud- altough going by that logic the holy quintet (for those in the know) wouldn't be doing that great either

i'll very likely come back with a list of questions to flesh out the newcomers

>>6031990
>anon that came after me is Luci like I think
No that was me

It would be interesting if the time comes that Helen being a public character sees use and anons can join me in scheming.

>>6031927
I've built an EMPIRE on making shitty decisions in Meguca Royale and I ain't gonna stop now, damn it! This feels like a 'damned if I do, damned if I don't' situation, especially considering everyone at school has pretty much zeroed in on Koko being at the scene, so...

>Write-In: Go to the police and explain how it's pretty much impossible for her to have done that to the girl. REALLY PLAY UP THE 'TISM!
If I'm reading correctly there was a car wreck. If Koko really plays up the autism then that'll understand the morbid fascination with the organs... it'll only get worse if she denies it and it seems like literally everyone has zeroed in on her and thinks Koko's a fuckin' creep already, so short of fleeing the city, well...

>>6031590
Wishing you all the best, Ime. You'll get there!

>>6031990
>I don't have to tell Ritanon shit,
The more things change the more they stay the same, ey you old salt

>>6032030
No need to apologize, just glad we can all enjoy Madoka Menhera together! And yea, this is pretty on-par for how shit goes.

>>6032046
I can only hope to live up to the Ass-eating power of Jimena. Though Wakoko is a kindred spirit.

>>6032136
by 'that' you mean 'kill' or 'grab her guts'? what she could be accused of is veeeeegy impogtangt

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While you guys figure shit out lemme just say man, chainsaw man is crazy good this week. Doesn't quite reach the peaks of part 1 or early part 2 but y'know, its kinda like Meguca Royale itself, the guy still got it even if the pace took a dip

>>6032402
>when the post-nut clarity hits

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im free

>>6032136
and i've been thinking, yknow what? let's make this fun. no char roll this time, i want our wakokokokokokokokoko to explain our kind and considerate law officers and therapists, with her words why she was found picking up 1kg of roast beef off the ground. lesse how this goes

>>6032310
i see a very different fate for our marie desu. but who am i to talk

>>6032402
damn. i'll pick it up once im done drinking my own bitch tears over magireco

ill be here slappin gucas together

Almost done reading the first thread, and this is some damn good shit
The timeskip was a smart idea, everyone already had a good idea of how things were going to go, and it had the chance of being mega-boring going through the same old discovering witches are megucas slowly when the show already did that. I really enjoyed the first post setting up all the characters and their starting positions, then boom the megasuffering core hits. Sorry Emma and Rita, it's only literary common sense to have the happiest get hit the hardest (even if it was just the dice lol). My favorite timeskip thing was Erika's really interesting encounter with "I wonder how a normal girl would've reacted to this" straight into "all of the friends I made are dead or hate me" Emma
Also there was a good balance of fucking vtuber comedy shenanigans, wholesome Erika being a good person despite the pragmatic weight of knowledge, badassery, self-destructive suffering, and ultra depression throughout

>>6032765
>no char roll this time
I'm sad that no dice rolling is happening, but I'm just a dice roller addict. Though thinking about char rolls, we never saw them used against a player.

Charisma's enemy stat is charisma according to that opening webm; if Salome had rolled against Erika to convince her not to go to that cafe meeting with Hush, Erika would've totally lost.

It is also a bit finicky, considering wisdom rolls are used to determine intent when charisma is used to convince, such as the Coordinator telling Helen that her life was in danger, which had an opposing wisdom roll rather than opposing charisma. If you had a high enough charisma stat, you could know that the person is lying to you/not be swayed, but you fail the wisdom roll part, and you don't know why they are lying.

Then again, I have no clue how squeezing some dead gal's guts like a lunatic by Wakokokokokokokokokokokokokookokoko can be talked out of exactly.

>>6032765
Of COURSE you ask me to do this the one week I'm away from my computer. Dick. Alright, here goes...

1) First thing's first: Wakoko didn't kill anyone! The victim was hit by a car! She just happened to be watching at the time--unless the cops are suggesting a Japanese School Girl can really enact this much damage on a person? Puhleeeeze!
2) Touching gore isn't a crime! It's merely a faux-pas! Koko's been really into anatomy and how organs work and got a little carried away, is all--anyone at her school can tell you she's a weird egg, but that's not harmful!
3) No evidence or anything was destroyed! It's an open and shut case!
4) Wakoko ran because she panicked! The photos and people gave her anxiety and she dipped! She even decided to come back and explain herself--thst's got to count for something!
5) Sorry for all the hubbub, but honestly it's also their fault for not sealing off the crime scene fast enough! What's happening to this town?
6) I have no idea if Wakako has some autism papers or not, but I'd recommend she whips those out too just to be safe

>>6032765
> explain to our kind and considerate law officers and therapists, with her words why she was found picking up 1kg of roast beef off the ground.
My two cents.
Trauma shock would be the obvious explanation.
She's a teenager, out walking the streets minding her own business.
Suddenly, a human collides with the pavement at terminal velocity a few feet away from her and literally explodes.
In her shaken state, she moved to help them, to see if they're okay, to futilely try and pull them back together.
As other people crowded around she snaps back to her senses and understandably panicked - by the gore, the overwhelming attention settling on her, the fact she was very nearly pulverized by a human-shaped ballistic payload, or a combination of the three - defaults to an instinctual flight or freeze response, going with the former.

>>6033069
Excellent stuff, Rinachan! Add this too!

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>>6033038
yaaay that works. so, then: the excuse for touching the guts is because she really likes anatomy- we go with that

oh wait, if you are gonna be a week away from the PC will you be able to answer the next post? wakoko's story is giving me some good time to flesh out (lel) the newcomers, but a week might be too long. also whatever you are doing: have fun! i was considering self-exiling myself from the pc for at least a week to see what happens

>>6032935
>Though thinking about char rolls, we never saw them used against a player.
char rolls represent confidence, which is used as a substitute for actual arguments. this is why you never see it used against players: the reaction of the player itself is the result of the roll

>Charisma's enemy stat is charisma
both intent, intellect, and confidence matter when convincing. let me try to get technical:

-charisma is a matter of association. we base our assumption that someone believes in what it's saying in specific factors such as its pose, manner of speech, tone, gestures, etc, anything other than the actual content of what's being said. charisma is charisma's enemy because other person with charisma may know these patterns as well, and know when they are being used either wrong or forcefully- ergo, smell out that the other is sure. a charisma fail is someone calling you out on the way you talk and present yourself

-wisdom is about perceiving intent or determining implications. a wisdom fail is when the other perceives your message correctly but fails at gauging what it means

-int is about, well, not being a dumbass

that being said: you can overcome int and wis defenses through charisma alone. 'this shit doesn't make sense to me, but this girl's cocky enough!' would be a common answer. int doesn't work against wis, wis doesn't work against int, both work against charisma, and charisma is the joker that works against all in exchange for not being useful on its own

>If you had a high enough charisma stat, you could know that the person is lying to you/not be swayed, but you fail the wisdom roll part, and you don't know why they are lying.
a high enough charisma lets you know if the person truly believes in what it says, if it's actually confident whether it's lying or not. wisdom is what tells you if they are lying since it's used to explain /why/ people do things, and it's wisdom again that tells you why they are lying

i appreciate you paying attention to the technical details of the quest. if there's an overlap between wis and char then it would be good to catch it early on. i won't mind changing it to something that makes sense

>>6032777
i often tell my players that there's no need to scavenge the archive, but it does make me pretty giddy that you are having fun akikanon. i don't know how much text it's at this point, so don't feel obligated to go through it to keep up with the quest. i'll explain everything once again here if needs be

>and ultra depression
farmed with love and care

>>6033069
>>6033080
and in it goes then. i can roll out an update today but behind the scenes is looking quite pretty already. tomorrow we wrap this up for sure! and then i may take a little time to make some solid ground, since i kinda rushed into this blind and i wanna learn from the mistakes of the past

>>6033083
I can answer, yes, just not immediately! Out of town at the moment so I'll be a little busy this week, but I should be able to reply sporadically.

>>6033083
>the reaction of the player itself is the result of the roll
Noted. However, I'm a fan that if I can use a stat against the NPCs, they can also use it against me and make me take a different course of action.
If a person runs into someone with high charisma, resisting them is an issue that must be considered. It's like making a mind roll not to succumb to fear when faced with something terrifying but charisma instead, and the bastard is getting you to join their cult and call them Lisan al Gaib and go on a space jihad.

>specific factors such as its pose, manner of speech, tone, gestures, etc, anything other than the actual content of what's being said
It does seem strange to me that charisma is considered confidence, but I see it as more of command over expression. A highly charismatic character is more effective at convincing, intimidating, lying, feinting, or pretending to be cowering in fear. A matter of presentation/influencing.
If it's all these things as you've described them. It seems to me that opposing a lie or convincing attempt requires two parts: catching the signs/not being convinced (charisma) and understanding why (wisdom).
Charisma would read body language, while intelligence and wisdom would gauge the message's actual content. Rather than just a single wisdom roll.

But it's your system in the end, though I do question how you described the wisdom stat as morals in the past, but it's possible to understand people well but still be a bastard.

Not gonna lie the second thread was getting a little meh for me even as necessary build-up but third thread, holy FUCK holy FUCKING shit the Hush cafe encounter was kino, Erika and Hush debating philosophy, Jimena on the fucking razor's edge of pulling that trigger, a fucking micrometer away from doing it, enough that Hush herself was spooked, but she just couldn't do it, she couldn't become a murderer
Also intense anime action sequence using megapowered crossbow shots to get across an abyss while fighting a giant ferris-wheel metal gear abomination was metal as fuck (rope was mvp for the witch's team though)

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Fear of the unknown takes over. To her, to Koizumi Wakoko, someone picking meat off the ground shouldn’t even be worth a glance, let alone a night in jail, let alone this much of a fuzz. But with what little she knows even she stumbles upon the same conclusion as everyone else: that it’s a weird world where we live in, and that people are weird, and that she’s not weird enough to pick up on its weird rules yet. And while this may be a crystal-clear reason to run away, from the sound of chalk scratching shapes into the black board and everything else, she’s anchored by a single thought:

that Junko would know of them.

Teacher: “...yet despite the fact that trains are bullshit because nobody is hearing me and that no quarter should be given in our sacred task to decimate each and all dolphins-” Yes, Wakoko?

Wakoko is standing; the tsunami of whispers crashes against her back, then rolls back quietly. For a second there, it’s like she’s choking on her own words- then something does come out.

Wakoko: Good morning. How are you doing? Me too. I want to turn myself in to the police.

The teacher, a young, short man with a very big mustache, just stares- likely waiting for the laughter to erupt. It’s not happening. Perhaps a punchline is waiting.

Teacher: Ok, I see. So, why do you want to turn yourself in to the police, Koizumi-san?

Wakoko: Because I didn’t do anything wrong.

…

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The kōban (the small police station) almost looks like just another convenience store from the outside. Its smell, once inside, makes very short work of that notion, and not being able to pinpoint /why/ makes Wakoko’s heartbeat all that faster. It feels dry, yet clean, and it reminds her of ink as she follows the steady officer’s sharp hat past the scary door that was behind the reception counter. What she’s met with, however, is not unlike the classroom by much. Smaller, yes, and it has a whiteboard instead of a blackboard, with some thick markers scattered around instead of chalk. Thinking of chalk makes her teeth grit; but, at this point, she doesn’t know if that’s the actual reason.

Man with hat: Sit.

Wakoko sits where she would sit in her classroom: right in front of the teacher’s desk. Schools and prisons do seem very similar.

Man with hat: Do you want some water, young lady?

Wakoko: I want to go home.

Said sheepishly, but with feeling.

Man with hat: Look, whatever happens next won’t be that bad. Some friends of mine will come with takoyaki, ask you a few questions, and then we all pay for our part. You too. You don’t pay, you don’t eat.

Wakoko: Oh… okay. Thanks.

That curt informality did make her feel at ease, at least. For a split second, Wakoko wonders: will not paying her part end up being why she sleeps behind bars tonight? After all that? Before she noticed, the policeman had left back from where they came from.

The loner sighs; and she finds herself /pissed/. Angry. Nothing makes sense here. She’s already seeing it coming: Junko laughing her ass off tomorrow. Her prank paid off, alright. Wakoko is sure she won’t ever hear the end of this.

When the men come, however, there’s no takoyaki. That dry smell reigns unchallenged. They are three, and dress quite alike. One has glasses, one is smoking, and the one that came with her first is still keeping that hat on. All three of them greet her as they come (even the first one), then pick up a seat each, and place them awkwardly in front of Wakoko’s desk.

Then sit at once.

Man with glasses: Alright, sunshine: what happened?
Straight to the point- and Wakoko is already sweating enough to feel dizzy. But, she did nothing wrong, and of that she’s quite sure.

Man with hat: Just state what happened. Take your time.

>First thing's first!

Wakoko: I didn’t kill anyone! I didn’t do what happened there? How could I even do something like that?!

Man with cigar: You aren’t being charged with murder.

Wakoko looks at him; then she coughs. Fishermen believe that the fish can trace the smell, so they don’t often make a habit out of smoking; she isn’t used to it either.

Man with cigar: We know. That is not the point here. Just answer the question.

The man with the cigar seems… special, to say the least, even though he looks normal at a glance. There’s something robotic about him, as if even his gestures were precise and measured- not to mention the fact that he’s a police officer yet he’s smoking.

Wakoko shuts her eyes. It’s just too much, and she needs to focus.

Wakoko: There was, um, a traffic accident, yes. And, a car started spinning, not horizontally, but vertically, I mean, not just vertically- and it ended up upside-down.

The one with the hat nods.

Man with hat: Go on.

Wakoko: A… female person came out of the windshield, full force. She was shot from her seat while the car was spinning vertically. Then, this female person, which was dead because the cranium was leaking, and and it wasn’t leaking cerebrospinal fluid, it wasn’t an CSF leak, no, there was visible gray matter, it was-

The three men share silent glances with each other- yet they don’t say a word. When Wakoko stops, the one with the hat nods at her.

Wakoko: Um. Um. That means I have to keep talking, right?

Man with hat: Yes, please.

Man with glasses: Did her research, this one.

The shaking, the memory issues, the mood swings… It’s only in such an extreme situation that Wakoko is finally face to face with the reality of what only ever eating fish did to her, that it’s clear enough to trap her. Because she had known about the symptoms for a while… but denial is a luxury we sometimes can’t afford. Mercury poisoning. Scared, Wakoko opens her eyes.

Wakoko: Ok. So,,. This female person is dead and there was abdominal leakage and… there were- intestines. I grabbed an intestine. And people took a lot of pictures. And then I ran. Because it hurt… my… ears.

The three men share yet more quiet glances- yet right as the one that’s smoking open his mouth the one with the glasses gestures at him to stop

then shrugs himself.

Man with glasses: Why?

Wakoko: Whywhywhy what?

Man with glasses: Why did you pick the intestine of a person that just had an accident right in front of you?

Wakoko: You said there was going to be takoyaki!

The man with the hat doesn’t answer.

>Touching gore isn't a crime!

Wakoko was /this/ close to saying that touching gore isn’t a crime. That we do it all the time when we buy meat at the butchery shops. That she likes anatomy. That liking anatomy is not a crime, and that neither is getting carried away just once.

She doesn’t.

>Trauma shock would be the obvious explanation.

It’s the Junko inside her head that stops her. The reason why? Unknown. It’s beside her, out of her reach. But she does know that the Junko inside her head told her to stop, because the real Junko told her it was bad
and that is the reason she stops.

Wakoko: …Shock. Trauma… I… I was shocked.

It’s a lie, and she’s bad at lying- but people are bad at taking the truth. Through the reflection of those glasses Wakoko can clearly see the sunset, the same beacon of light her dad often sails towards.

Wakoko: When that happened, I… wasn’t really thinking. I was just going to school and… someone died in front of me. Just like that. Puff.

She gestures the ‘puff’ with her hands. It doesn’t really come out well, but neither man comments.

Wakoko: I just thought… I wanted to help. I know a lot about organs. I like the subject. I-

Man with cigar: Hold on.

The man takes the cigar off his mouth, and becomes a simple man. He takes his time to check through a file- then stabs a page with his finger.

Man with cigar: Here it says that you are at the bottom of your class in Anatomy and physiology.

Wakoko puffs both cheeks automatically. That is because she often disagrees with what the book says, and writes her own vision of how organs work in turn going as far as to draw examples. Maybe she shouldn’t say that either though. Right now, she doesn’t know what’s safe to say and what’s not, so the less she talks, the less she risks.

Man with hat: Look, that doesn’t matter, alright? Young lady, keep going.

Wakoko: Ok. I- that girl. I did that because I… I wanted to pull that girl back together. To- fix her. Brand new. And then everyone else came. And I… I ran away.

Man with glasses: Because of the noise. It’s what you said.

Wakoko shakes her head.

Wakoko: Because I was confused.

Man with glasses: Wasn’t it the noise?

Wakoko: That, too, I think? I… don’t really know why I did that.

Man with hat: Were you afraid that people would think the wrong thing about what you did?

Man with no cigar: No leading questions. Don’t do that.

Wakoko: I don’t know? I think that… maybe I was afraid that this would happen?

It’s not true. It doesn’t matter. Everyone always thinks organs are weird and disgusting. And that’s not true either. The man with no cigar becomes the man with a cigar again- he fills his lungs with gray and carelessly spits a cloud above.

Man with cigar: Alright. I think we all here remember you saying that this female person was already dead. Then; why help her, then?

Wakoko is so nervous that she swallows. The very real reality that any wrong step could send her to a madhouse is slowly creeping through her spine, slowly, as she also considers how the mercury poisoning could be perceived. It closes her throat, it makes her brain try to be somewhere else that is not here, that is not now

but problems are only fixed here and now..

Wakoko: I… said… that… because… I… didn’t… want… you… to… think… I… killed… her.

It’s almost as if her head is burning.

Man with hat: So you found out later.

Wakoko: YES!

The man with the cigar looks at the man with the hat- yet the other doesn’t return the look.

Man with glasses: You need to understand that what you did is unusual. Very unusual. You need some help. A calm place, fresh air. A good friend to listen to you.

Wakoko's heart sinks.

Man with hat: Wait outside, Koizumi-chan.

But now is just not the time.

Wakoko: Um- where?

Man with hat: Where we came from. Just don’t run away.

Wakoko stands, and heads for the door-
but turns around.

>Wakoko ran because she panicked!

Wakoko: I came back.

Right as they just started talking to each other, touching her chest, Wakoko announces the truth almost proudly. They have to know, and she has to make sure that they know.

Wakoko: I ran away but I came back. I turned myself in. I did!

…Yet neither man says anything

Man with glasses: Wait outside, please.

and Wakoko, deflated, just leaves the room.

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Wakoko may have taken the order a bit too literally, because she ends up standing right outside the door instead of waiting in the waiting room like any other normal person. This comes with an advantage: she can hear what they say decently enough, and it’s technically not her fault- yet soon enough she starts to wish she didn’t. She’s being demeaned. Odd terms and labels are used to describe her. Someone mentions that she was obviously shell-shocked. The lines drawn by the patterns form a clear enough picture, and the core of it, shockingly enough, isn’t what she did or her odd, unique behavior- but that the people who saw those videos think that Wakoko is a dangerous psychopath. It’s the main topic of conversation. Because it wouldn’t look good for the police to just let a dangerous psychopath roam the streets and that’s the point- not one that is still basking in the spotlight.

Because that’s what people think

and what people think is what matters the most.

Eyes quite open as her mind continues to adjust to that reality, Wakoko almost doesn’t notice the man with the hat as it opens the door right in front of her. First, he sighs, of course, as scaring people shitless just in case is both their culture and their job- but then he talks.

Man with hat: Alright. Off you go.

His words are a silver lining in the dark cloud that Wakoko had barely just noticed.

Wakoko: …soooo…?

Man with hat: You will be seeing a therapist weekly. Soon, you will be interviewed. And I /need/ you to say that you are seeing this therapist weekly. Young lady, do not forget to say this.

Wakoko: …and?

The man with the hat shakes his head.

Man with hat: That’s it. No ‘and’. It’s a travesty, an overreaction, all of this.

He nods towards the receptionist.

Man with hat: Go give that woman your address.

Wakoko: But the takoyaki.

The man /stops/ to look at her from under that hat, a man who with absolutely certainty has at least once killed another with his bare hands. He takes up his wallet and hands her over some bills, then pats Wakoko’s puffy hair and leaves.

…

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The address Wakoko had given the receptionist for the cab was that of the dock where her father works. She still had to earn back his trust after losing the keys to her own house for the seventh time, so besides going back to school (which, despite it all, would still be heresy) her only option was heading for their private cabin. Once inside her safe, lonely place, she still feels dread, she still feels dizzy. How tremendously close that was, that is something only now she’s beginning to digest. But; free day.

“A psychopath”, a sad Wakoko thinks, as she absentmindedly smashes a desperate fish over and over against the edge of the table; that’s what the people think she is. “A psychopath”, yet she isn’t the one being mean to other people- yet even the dogs she saved are afraid of her. The young lady sighs. Her dad always told her that life wasn’t fair- but would she know how right he was? How would she know, even right now?

When her dad comes back, late at night, she gives him a big hug.
And he lets her.

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Stepping out of the bus, she steels herself. The night had given her enough time to chew on reality; armed with the belief that she is, in fact, a good girl, she will step into that classroom again- because I didn’t do anything wrong. As she again joins the wave of students crashing into the school, as heads turn and whispers sprout, Koizumi Wakoko gives no half a shit and continues striding forward because someone gave her takoyaki.

When she steps into that classroom, it’s as if the echo of her steps swallows all the sound. All eyes glue to her instantly as if she had forgotten to get dressed. Steadily, she walks up to her desk, sits in her chair, clears her throat, and takes out her reliable blowship-shaped pillow as is her duty. She knows she’s anxious, she knows; but she knows now too well not to show it.

Then the murmurs get loud enough for her to hear them.

Psycho. Freak. Weirdo. Dolphin-lover. The words thrown around carelessly pile up, and Wakoko soon finds herself wishing her pillow was much bigger. Then she suddenly goes ‘oh’, totally ready to tell Junko about what went down in the kōban- and that’s when she realizes that the classroom’s turbo-stacy had already merged her desk with some other girls. The spot right next to Wakoko’s was pretty much a very noticeable crater. When she looks at Junko, Junko looks away. No greetings, no insults, no nothing.

It’s slow: but Wakoko does feel all that steel crumbling off of her.

The teacher walks into the classroom.

…

When recess comes, Wakoko just leaves next to everyone else as usual- but stops at the door. No one stops for her. She feels utterly lost in a way that she had never felt before, in the realization of just how little she understands what other people think. Like with what happened: maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe it is. Who knows? Not her. And that’s the thing; where do I go, then? And so, she stays right by the door to the classroom, feeling her own heartbeat, finding a little comfort in imagining how the blood is being distributed all over her body- because her heart hasn’t given up yet.

Junko Imeredala: they’ve known each other for at least half a year already. Back then, after a school concert, Junko’s grandpa was praising his granddaughter’s performance and telling her to ‘not waste her best years’, a speech that Wakoko had unceremoniously interrupted by telling Junko to ‘eat ice cream every day!’. Junko had played it off by laughing and saying that Wakoko was a special needs student from a program because Wakoko, at the time had no idea that the Imeredalas were that big of a deal, and that the man had come from mainland Russia for this concert alone- and so they’ve spent time together ever since. As usual, Wakoko finds herself wondering why.

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???: OMG it’s you!!! hey look it’s her!!

Stunned, Wakoko doesn’t know what to do when a turbo-gyaru, a high-level gyaru, suddenly hugs her arms and starts rapid-firing selfies.

Turbo Gyaru: like OMGG you are so super famous! ok like trade me info

Wakoko: Ehmm… info.

Rainbow-colorer hair, makeup up the ass, unintelligible slang; poor Wakuku had simply not been exposed enough to these fascinating organisms.

Turbo Omega Gyaru: i wanna be a meme too11!! like wutchu think bae

The S-tier Gyaru strikes a silly pose, then laughs loudly at herself. Then, of course, her friends join in.

‘OMG besti you right its her’

‘pic it up bae like frrrr!

‘move bitch my bangs don’t fit’

Doing her best with what life gave her, Wakoko settles for smiling to the best of her ability (which still looks as if she was being held at gunpoint with a railgun) and doing the peace sign as many times as it takes.

…

The pattern surprises her- continuously, over this single recess. Many students from the other classrooms, who to Wakoko at this point might be even less than NPC’s or background music, came up to her, all talking friendly, all asking for photos and asking why the fuck did she pick up someone’s intestines off the ground. They are invasive, sure, but so far most were nice and polite, even considerate when Wakoko sheepishly demanded a bit of space. Of course, there was scorn and those subtle glares all over the place, but those were there from the start, and this much, at least, is a step up.

And so the same question, in different shapes kept coming up,

“So what’s your Twitter or X or whatever?”

“Girl you have like instagram right?”

“Hey, what’s your blog about, Koizumi-chan? Is it gory and stuff?”

and Wakoko kept thinking about it. Yes; she was already a denizen of the Internet, but she had never, ever, had any kind of social media account yet. Her main and almost sole interest was anatomy, and if any teacher would have cared to check how earnest she was about her pursuit of science they would have realized that she could give the class herself at this point. Professor Wakoko doesn’t sound so bad; but she had never thought about it until now.

Yet, as it keeps happening, as Wakoko’s popularity continues to soar for whatever reason, she keeps finding Junko peeking. What little people would give the time of the day in that classroom have pretty much exiled her- like Junko. So much for this also being her problem.

But then again, Wakoko is taking something from this awful experience- something very important. If anything, painful as it may be, and it is very, very painful because she spent half of the night crying herself to sleep, having woken up to the fact that she doesn’t understand how people work as much as she thought so early might even make all of this nightmare worth it.

Which means that, perhaps, she doesn’t understand Junko enough either.

>Apologize to Junko.
>Make a social media account.

ok so i may or may not be going full retard, i may or may not be coping over wakoko. but! for those a bit impatient, keep in mind that everthing else is getting fleshed out as well. like wakoko when she sails with her dad, you'd rather make sure the boat doesn't have any plot holes before you head into the seas- so be patient!!!!!!!!!1111!!11

>>6033750
i will never forget how hard i had to cope when jimena decided to fucking erase the mc from the previous quest right off the bat, and how that turned out to be for nothing, so im glad you at least find it amusing lawle. getting attached to the future is a trap, the sweet aroma of rails fucks you up and makes you stupid. also the rope was the true witch

also inb4 'jesus fuck a-chan talks a fuckton'

>>6033235
i'll give this the thought it deserves tomorrow, cuz its fucking 4 am almost

>>6034129
Well shit, that could have gone much worse! Didn't lose a water park this time, at least.

>Apologize to Junko
She did throw us to the wolves and betray the shit out of us, but these people don't TRULY appreciate anatomy and fads dissppear. Not sure how much I wanna apologize to her, per se, but....

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Who knew that some guts make a girl popular!

>>6034138
>fucking erase the mc from the previous quest right off the bat
The true comedy was reading Hush's thread and discovering her name was Lumina Kanima. Jim got close to killing the QM's insert, who had to kiss magical girls to survive.

However, the whole freedom deal offered by Hush makes me wonder why they can't just give it to the girls tricked into incubators rather than just sealing them. If an incubator girl loses her magic, the girls she contracted will become normal. There's probably a good reason why they can't.

Still, it isn't as bad as the whiplash as reading what the two Coordinators preach: love, hope, and believing Magical Girls to be good. How they're highly praised by NPCs. Then, their hypocritical actions. You enter into black comedy territory when one talks about love and turns out to be a groomer withholding vital info, while the other says to trust them and then proceeds to use a threat, a lie, and fear to instill lessons all under half an hour. As Jim put it, "fucking insufferable bitches the both of them."

There's also the whole 'believe in Magical Girls' thing, which I find rings very hollow when a million faces have been turned into one in Mexico City, Rome is a crater, and in Buenos Aires, the options being faced are death or brainwashing on top of drought caused by Magical Girls.

It might be just a difference in personal takes/interpretation, though. QM says magical girls are the kindest of humanity. While I think magical girls are no better or worse than the average person.

I remembered a line from Aloe's description that stood out to me: She is cute even by the standards of magical girls, which I find bizarre because Kyubey doesn't choose by looks. I don't see how that standard is different from normal. But then again, the descriptions in Hush Quest Pastebin were a bit weird. Though it proves Lifa's claim that Weird Eyes is the only girl to ever deserve to be considered 10/10 is utter horseshit.

Anyway, enough harping from me. I'll pipe down on Buenos Aires. I'm curious what the Japanese trio(quartet?) will accomplish. Christ almighty, 10 player characters...

Alright I just finished reading all five threads of Buenos Aires (went full /omniscience/ on this bitch, every detail absorbed every word noted every ounce of autism acknowledged) using every second of free time I had in the past three days, and I think I may be developing schizophrenia with all the words bouncing around in my brain
It was worth it, one hundred percent
I'll refrain from bringing up the past too much, both because we shouldn't be shackled to it/cuck a new beginning, and because it's more kino when you encounter references to past events without knowing every detail about them, but I do want to say I'm sincerely glad you're still here and megucking around, Lumina

>>6034129
>>6034335
I know only Ritanon is supposed to be able to vote, but I'd agree
I don't know if it's the self-induced schizophrenia or the Wakoko wakokoing in me, but we didn't do anything wrong, Junko distanced herself from us by her own choice, so if anything, Junko should be the one to apologize, but I do think it would be a good idea to have a conversation with our one friend and hash things out

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>Apologize to Junko

It makes sense. It’s a logical conclusion. If she doesn’t understand people, Wakoko thinks, then people don’t understand her either- and what she did wasn’t so bad, and Junko was just confused as well. The epiphany hits her right as a boy from another class was showing her a video of someone getting swallowed by a machine in a factory accident, which wasn’t so interesting to her because it was recorded with a security camera and the organs came out kinda blurry. She didn’t know what these people just asked her; she did know that Junko just turned around, yet again, to take a peek at her. Now, Wakoko knows how Junko looks with wide open eyes because the ender of fishes is walking up right to her.

Wakoko: Junko, I’m sorry.

Just like that; plain, simple, and efficient, with no honorifics whatsoever, right in front of her big group of ascended, five-stars bitches (some of which, despite it all, are actually good persons) who had now decided to fall into silence yet again. As for Junko herself; it’s like the blood on her face got scared and left.

Wakoko: You were right. I did something bad. I was wrong.

Yet that blood is a bit too quick to return- and a bit too eager.

Junko: So? Fuck off.

Wakoko: You mean that I should go away?

Junko: Yes! Do I speak English or what? Quit talking to me and go.

Wakoko: But; why?

There is disheartenment; there’s also genuine curiosity there. But in Junko’s face? There’s only panic. She just turns around and leaves. Not knowing any better, Wakoko follows Junko, squeezing her way through the horde.

Wakoko: Junko. Junko. Junko. Hey, stop.

She gets her wish granted. Junko turns around

Junko: Bitch, don’t you fucking know what harrasment is?

Wakoko: What is harassment?

Junko: I’ll beat the fuck out of you. GO. AWAY.

But Wakoko doesn’t.

Wakoko: I’m sorr-

The slap could even be heard even by that guy in the bathroom jacking off to a graphics card who was later going to use it to emulate-Banjo Kazooie. Wakoko herself, so far a complete stranger to physical violence since not even her dad ever raised a hand on her, simply kept looking at Junko aimlessly as she caressed her now red cheek.

Her heart started beating faster.
Her fingers became numb.
Her lungs felt shallow
and, suddenly, everything seemed a lot bigger.

The scowl on Junko’s face was quick to twist, like a towel being squeezed, into one of ‘I fucked up’ tier worry. Leaning against the wall, Wakoko’s shaky legs were quick to give in, and even though everything inside of her screamed to run away she just covered her ears because this is as much as she could take-
yet her heart just wouldn’t stop pumping blood regardless,
tears wouldn’t stop building up,
and regardless,
nobody came to help her.

Junko just stood there.

…

Back home, Wakoko would learn what that was: a panic attack. Perhaps she had been anxious all this time, and she’s as bad with her feelings as she is with anyone else’s. At the time, more than fear, she had felt confusion- lately, it’s hard to tell what’s good or bad. Just like yesterday, she had ended up alone in the private cabin, rocking herself back and forth in the old chair, pushing that spiky fish pillow into her chest as hard as she could. That had been the single most horrible experience she ever had, and right now Wakoko is giving herself all the time in the world to swallow that things like that can happen. Checking up her cell phone just to see when dad’s coming back, Wakoko finds that the wifi signal she often steals is being a bit more generous today; on a whim, she looks for that Twitter place. The people at school, after all, had been very nice to her, and if she could find more people like that then maybe she could finally make a friend. People that aren’t like Junko.

Not even checking up her own meme, she stops.

All of these years she had fought, a little every day, to make friends at school. Perhaps it was silly… but if she makes friends online, people she doesn’t even have to see or talk to, to her, it would render all of that effort meaningless.

And yet, everyone hates her now, the Internet thinks she’s a freak, nobody in class talks to her anymore, her brother left her, Junko left her, mom died, and dad works all day and night.

This time, Wakoko just cries without any hint of shame, but that still doesn’t stop her. If it isn’t the Internet, if she’ll have to keep pushing, then she needs something to hang on to. Checking upon Junko’s Twitter handle for the first time, which she had known for a while, Wakoko hopes that something there will help understand her so she knows what to apologize for next time. It’s full of, mostly, activism, motivational quotes, some cats, pictures of her in exotic places, flowers… nothing that remotely resembles the Junko she knows, and the posts are few and far between. Yet one comment that Junko had ignored, as Wakoko sips her own tears because they are sweet, appears particularly striking to her; a link to another channel. Forgetting that she’s sad, Wakoko blinks. That’s Junko. Like a year ago, and she’s playing music.

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Wakoko squints her eyes. The songs are mostly covers of famous bands, and she picks one among the bunch. The Junko playing in it, alone in a pretty room, is using an instrument that Wakoko had never seen- and judging by the comments, an instrument that nobody had ever seen either. A little research is enough: Junko creates her own instruments out of trash, out of broken electronics or furniture, or even out of pottery. The instruments themselves don’t resemble any other or each other and the way to play each is unique- yet the sound is beautiful. The numbers don’t hit the millions, but they get close- yet the last one was uploaded many months ago, in a date that Wakoko finds oddly familiar.

She blinks.

It’s the day they met.

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: I see. Human creativity isn’t bound by efficiency. That’s perplexing.

Wakoko: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

At some point, Wakoko finds herself huddled against the wall, her chest going crazy as the white, quiet figure looms closer from the shadows. In this sacred sanctum she’d only ever expected the sound of the faint waves

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: Koizumi Wakoko, make a contract with me and become a Magical Girl!

and not… whatever this thing is. White all over, long ears, looks maybe like a cat- and those red, shining eyes like cameras are perfect circles.

Wakoko: Who are you?! Go away!!

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: I mean you no harm, Wakoko. In fact, even in your current state, you are more dangerous than I am.

Wakoko could see that. She did study the anatomy of various feral beasts, and whatever this is doesn’t fit in any of those patterns.

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: My name is Kyubey. I can grant you any kind of wish that you want if you become a Magical Girl and fight Witches. Anything at all.

Wakoko: Wishes? Witches? You aren’t making any sense.

Kyubey licks its paw.

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: Communication between our species is always hard. The way our thought process works is very different from yours, Wakoko. But the message should be clear.

Wakoko dares to unglue herself from the wall. A wish, anything she could ever want.

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: Make a contract with me, Koizumi Wakoko! And become a Magical Girl!

>???

>>6034711
Goddamn, OP, you know how to twist those heartstrings around... welp, it wouldn't be a Meguca game without bad decisions, sooooo.....

>I want EVERYONE and EVERYTHING to appreciate my genius!

>>6034673
>Finished reading all the threads
You've got some mental fortitude there, anon. A lesser meguca would be a frothing pile of pink goo by now...

>>6034711
Look, thats him! He said the thing! Oh boy, oh boy, isn't this one of those things that's always exciting? Lets see what our pal comes up with this time, I gotta admit the Waterpark wish was a real hit.

>>6034735
Whew. Not what I'd have asked for but you know that already.

>>6033750
>>6034138
I am supremely proud of the impact I've had on our qm's blood pressure, I only hope to live up to that accomplishment by actually derailing the quest when it comes back. Despite this, I'm glad things went the way they did. Sometimes you gotta lose, to see the truth.

>>6034433
>QM says magical girls are the kindest of humanity. While I think magical girls are no better or worse than the average person.
No, I kinda agree with the sentiment. Their lows are low by design, when everything is stacked against you decency kinda goes out the window. But their peaks, well, you've seen it already. I think that more than makes up for it.

>>6034754
To be fair you set the bar pretty damn high with your wish, Jime. Hard to measure up to that kind of competition!

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>>6034851
And everyone still believes I made it as a joke. Oh, ye' of little faith...

>>6034673
Brother, 3 days? You've got what it takes. I'm thrilled more people get to see this rollercoaster, now imagine what it was llike being in it. Anyways, I won't bring up the old days though it would do us well to keep the thread somewhat lively while we wait. Its par with the course, here on /qst/. I hope the other anons used the time to do their homework on the series at least...

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White cats that talk and grant wishes- once over her initial dread, Wakoko can’t keep her curiosity in check, not with something so undeniably alien.

Wakoko: How- how can you talk? Cats don’t talk. Do you have vocal chords? How-

She notices them

Wakoko: -are those rings around your ears being held in place by magnetism?

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: I am not a cat, and I am not talking, Wakoko. I’m speaking directly to your heart through telepathy. As for my composition, the technology employed in it is too advanced for your civilization to understand. It would take humanity millions of years to grasp these concepts.

It’s the telepathy that sells it; all of the rest could be explained, all of it could be an expertly designed artifice. But she’s hearing it inside her head. It’s hard proof of the kind that makes her shiver, even in her current sorry state.

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: I don’t have much time, Wakoko. Do you have a wish in mind already?

Wakoko: Wait! What… what are Witches? Are they scary?

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: Yes. Witches are dangerous. They attack innocent people, and are the cause of many crimes and even incidents that human society considers natural disasters. You would be saving a lot of people if you become a Magical Girl.

‘Witches are dangerous’. People are dangerous, and she’s already going to have to live with them. But despite those hints of hatred that she still keeps from her heart, Wakoko does give the wish the thought that it deserves. First; guts aren’t disgusting, they are squishy and frail, and people treat them poorly with the way they eat- and it would be nice if they were nice to them. Second, she always wanted a friend, and has been pursuing that goal in earnest for a long time already. Asking for one could defeat the purpose, it would be cheating, Wakoko knows, but… at this point, she truly wonders if that would be the only way. And third, but not least, it’s the fact that everyone hates her right now. True or not, but it’s what she feels, and that feeling is fierce enough to haunt her. So; Wakoko thinks about it for a bit. She has set the filters, the conditions: now she has to fulfill them all at once.

/ 人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼: I see. You are a cautious person, Wakoko.

It is true; but, at the same time, she wouldn’t mind fighting Witches if it saves people. It’s what a good girl would do. Dad is people. The man that gave her takoyaki is people. Junko is people. After all went through, even if she wanted, Wakoko still can't believe that people aren’t worth fighting for.

Wakoko: I know.

It wasn’t hard. Wakoko ponders it some more, looks for holes in her logic, spends her newfound hope overheating her head to test her wish relentlessly. But like driving a Ferrari into a wall she’s met with the dread that Kyubey leaves, and so, on impulse, with no more second thoughts, she closes her eyes and speaks:

>I want EVERYONE and EVERYTHING to appreciate my genius!

…

It’s like the words are left lingering in the air, as if they are of solid matter. Wakoko doesn’t know how people turn into Magical Girls, but she hopes that it isn’t painful and that it’s over soon. Daring to open her eyes, looking around, she finds nothing different from before. Maybe she’s seeing things. Maybe the panic attack did things to her brain. Maybe that’s why she’s seeing Junko by the door.

※ Junko: Everything, Koizumi-chan?

Wakoko was going to say something; she did it. Junko looks… ominous. As if she came from space. Although Junko is standing in place, to Wakoko it’s as if she’s floating.

※ Junko: As in, you also want the rocks and cars and to tell you that you are a smart cookie?

At a loss of words on how to describe her attire, the fisherman’s daughter can’t do much but gaze into it. There’s leather, black and brown. There’s white, and copper flowers. The sound of whirring cogs is peaceful and soothing, as a million tiny gadgets share the industrial city that are her clothes, some hiding under layers of white silk and black leather, some resting on her shoulders, all doing something, all working together, the whole dress covering little more than her waist. Her legs are entirely wrapped in shining black, the leggings, unlike the dress, holding no pattern whatsoever; sharp, white high heels with small steel wings cover her feet. The blood red beret, looming over so much black, white, and brown, holds a single steel flower; inside it is a clock.

As for Kyubey, well; it has now become a chair, its stretched, still emotionless face being the cushion at the center. Junko sits on it, crossing a leg over the other.

※ Junko: Funny: I asked for the exact opposite thing. My wish was: ‘I don’t want to care about what people think’.

Wakoko: …Junko?

※ Junko: Hello.

Wakoko: You are a Magical Girl.

※ Junko: Hmh.

Wakoko: …Why are you a Magical Girl?

※ Junko: Because I want to be like you.

The thought of it all being just a dream becomes tempting enough. Junko chuckles.

※ Junko: What a wonderful thing; now I can say it without any kind of worry. I don’t even have to mix insults with my words to feel normal. I can finally be considerate without feeling weak.
And this all being a dream is starting to make more sense by the second. Wakoko just… walks up to her blowfish pillow, grabs it, and leans against the wall on the opposite end, just looking at the ground, just hugging that blowfish. She doesn’t talk. Junko walks up to her.

※ Junko: Is this too much at once?

Wakoko nods a little, not even looking up, holding onto her pillow as if it was the stray plank keeping her afloat in the middle of the ocean. Junko just stands by her side. She doesn’t say anything either. She waits. She had waited many months already.

Wakoko: Um. Junko?

※ Junko: Yes?

She giddied up too readily.

Wakoko: You always say that I’m an autist. That I smell bad. That all the smell of fish actually comes from my vagina.

※ Junko: And when you talk you never look at people in the eye, when you gesture as it’s as if you had fucking Parkinsons disease, and your breath sometimes puts garlic to shame, and that’s why you don’t even have any friends, but! Koizumi-chan, you are perfect. You truly are perfect.

Junko casually rests her hand against the wall, right over Wakoko's shoulder.

※ Junko: I don’t say that because it’s true; it’s just what I think. If I told that to anyone else, they’d... explode!, you know?- but not you. You don’t care. You care about things that matter. You care about your dad. You care about your organs- and you can’t even imagine why other people wouldn’t care about them either, and that is so obvious. It… feels so good that I can say it! It feels so free!

Wakoko: I care.

Junko looks at Wakoko; but the girl is still just staring at the ground, teary-eyed.

Wakoko: I care. And it hurts.

Wakoko is startled when Junko grabs her hands tenderly, and puts them between hers.

※ Junko: You don’t have to care- they all are miserable anyway. I was miserable. Why would you care about what miserable people think? Or say?

Wakoko: But I wanted to be like you.

…

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Junko’s smile lingers; now it’s her looking at the ground.

※ Junko: You have no idea… how much time I spent doing something I didn’t like because everyone else was telling me to do it. They all say it’s going to be great. It was supposed to be great a long time ago already, but there’s always more to do, more to climb, and it always gets harder. And the moment you step out of line /just once/, well- you are alone. Very fucking alone.

Now Wakoko knows what would have happened if she made that social media account.

※ Junko: Let’s go, Koizumi-chan. Let’s be free.

Wakoko: But I want to make friends.

Junko lifts an eyebrow amicably.

※ Junko: What do you think it means to be a friend? Going out? Shopping together? Laughing at other people? Why do you think I was sitting with you and not with them?

The realization that she had always had a friend all along hits Wakoko like a truck-

and yet; she stills pulls her hands out from that warm embrace.

※ Junko: Koizumi-chan?

She knows. That gap between them… became larger than ever. Impossible, like magic- because Junko had taught her to care about what others think. Silently, Wakoko lingers there, scared- because what little she could build up by herself over the years suddenly seemed to matter a lot.

And when she looks up, the Magical Girl looks just like her pretty usual, normal self- only infinitely different. Junko opens the door to the private cabin.

※ Junko: Do not become a Magical Girl. This is /my/ punishment for letting them live my life; not yours.

The honor student hesitates at the door.

※ Junko: Take this from me and I’ll kill you.

Wakoko: Junko; where are you going?

Perhaps surprised by how unphased Wakoko was at the threat, Junko allows herself to turn around and address her one last time.

※ Junko: To live today.


—------------------------※-------------------------

aight boys and girls and african americans, we done with wakoko, and im happy to say that i did my homework in the meantime. fingers feel a little less rusty, qst feels kinda dead but that fits cause i wont have as much time as I used to

yet, you know what comes next: maybe not tomorrow, but be ready to say hello

>>6034754
>I gotta admit the Waterpark wish was a real hit.
SEANANNIGANS IS DEAD!!!11 that fucking label in the archive still makes me laugh

>I only hope to live up to that accomplishment by actually derailing the quest when it comes back
too fucking bad, at this point ive learned how sinful it is to plan ahead. these backstories require some serious bones, though, but im sure its gonna get faster once we treadin on solid ground

>But their peaks, well, you've seen it already. I think that more than makes up for it.
thing is, gucas are either good or fucking explode. they always shine one way or the other cause they have to; it's an actual, factual matter of life and death to them. i think i said this a couple times

>>6034874
>And everyone still believes I made it as a joke. Oh, ye' of little faith...
motherfucker don't poison the youth, i'll go to sleep fearing the kind of wishes the new generation will bring to my old conservative ass. im already too fucking ready for the 'I WANNA BE A BOY' wish but im not sure how much more my old ass heart can take
jk, do whatever you want guys

>>6034673
jesus fucking christ, you really did. what the fuck, this is like being seen naked, im not sure i like it. buuuuut! since we are already here, what did you like the most? what did you like the least? what did you think of lifathread? and boy, fuck, am i impressed (and a little pressured) by your dedication lawl

>It was worth it, one hundred percent
>I'm sincerely glad you're still here and megucking around, Lumina
super glad to hear it. mark twain said that he could live two weeks on a good compliment and i used to poke fun at him- but i think i get the point nowadays

>>6034433
>who had to kiss magical girls to survive.
i'll never live that down. to me, 100% honestly, it was a good mechanic to force players to both empathize and think creatively- and as it turns out also very easy to view as pedoshit. worst thing is that i still think it would have been a great mechanic. just in case anyone is wondering, yes, it is canon because some things shouldn't be forgotten

>If an incubator girl loses her magic, the girls she contracted will become normal.
if you kill a Kyubey the megucas remain megucas

>QM says magical girls are the kindest of humanity
like i told jimena, megucas are either nice or explode. that doesn't make your interpretation invalid though, but there are some very clear constraints to how they can behave unlike us

>She is cute even by the standards of magical girls
Aloe is, in fact, very cute, and this is an important cheat fact that the newcomers could find very useful going forward. shh i said nothing

also yes; Lifa biased

also sike in case you thought wakoko was gonna end up meguking

>>6035005
I am going to need to make the most outrageous, poorly thought out Wish ever. Well- not really, but I am probably going to be incredibly selfish.

>>6035009
Probably for the best. It's tricky enough wrangling one meguca autist already-Ritaliiiiin's high maintenence like that.

All the same, thanks for being a good sport and letting me fuck around for a little bit, OP! I'll still be watching, judging, and offering words of priceless magical girl wisdom to the fresh meat.

>>6035202
Go for the gold, Marie! The dumber the wish, the better the girl, I say!

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>>6034735
>>6034874
>mental fortitude
>you've got what it takes
I'll try my best to match your expectations!
*Akiko salutes to her senpais while stepping backwards off a cliff because it's cool*

>>6035005
Well, I wasn't going to bring up the past too much (want me and my two new best friends to not be too influenced trying to 'match' it), but if you're asking for it... gives me a good excuse to spill my thoughts on some things lol
The final witch battle (SSS) was hype, but my favorite thing still has to be the Hush cafe sequence, that was peak kinography, that whole sequence is why I read, why writing exists
Hard to pick a least favorite thing, but I actually have a small personal frustration with characters like Emma (not indicative of her writing quality, which I can appreciate objectively despite personal feelings)
Lifathread felt long as hell, probably due to the fact that my mind was nearing capacity (limit-testing the hell out of that shit, reading a 55 post chunker at 5 am with no sleep and work in five hours), but in the end I liked it. (Yeah not my smartest decision but with sunk cost and general "nah, I'd tank it", it was fine). I was a bit wary at first, since it felt like there was a large chance of Lucinda's character being retconned with bigguca trying to force yuri shenanigans, but it ended up okay, then better than okay/bordering kino because of Jim's genius plan to include her in the chapter 1 finale. Glad you stayed with us Lumina, because otherwise we wouldn't be here today :(

Been rereading the quest and man did things change
>inb4 we go back to Helena's POV and the niji-gucas are killing eachother
>inb4 vsho-gucas, holo-gucas and the unholy sextet have to team up to defeat an invasion of phase-gucas

>>6034988
>>6035009
I was going to say Junko worst girl, but now she's based. Interesting how she was a semi-foil to Wakoko, semi-dumb she abandoned us in our greatest time of need, but she is a teenage girl, maybe was jealous of Wak's new-found fame, and I'm not sure when she made her wish. Possible she made it the day she met Wakoko, since that's when she stopped playing music, but if she wanted to be like (what she semi-idealized) Wakoko was like, she'd have to probably make it later? Her wish is basically a less bullshit version of Lucinda's
Glad Wakoko gets to be free of the cycle of death, she's a good girl and should be happy with her pops and her fish guts. Curious how Junko knew the cat was there, and also curious if we'll get to see the two of them somewhere as NPCs
It was nice to see someone not meguck out

If the cat approaches Akiko in the same way, since she's an insightful girl, I'll probably have her ask why no one has wished for there to never be witches again if they're so bad, but I don't know what kinda hyper suffering position the madman's gonna cook up, so that could all go out the window

well well well, look what we have here.

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Looks like a bunch of FUCKING KOHAI MEGUCAS and a NERD QM back from the grave.

I really missed you guys. And I'm pleasantly surprised to see some new blood! Welcome in everyone!

>>6036052
Welcome back, Ghost Lady Blender Fucker Lu!

>>6036052
Oh my goodness, it's the Phantom Fucker herself!
The Mistress of Not Giving A Shit!

>>6036052
The prodigal son returns! I knew it was a matter of time. Welcome back, Miss Newhorn.

>>6034988
This family is fucked up. Least Wakoko will live.

>>6035005
We'll see about that!

>>6035295
The whole lifathread is just the qm spewing out hit without filter, starting with a dumb framing of bigguca fucking around and escalating into deconstruction of the characters and setting, what a masterpiece.

>>6035432
man, I got no idea what goes on in the vtuber scene this days. Ironic.

>>6036052
LUUUUUUUUCE! I missed you, bitch!

Alright fuck it, since it might be months before a Buenos Aires thread and I gotta say it before I forget it, you senpais remember when there was that one wish spread in the second thread, and you were theorizing which wish was for who?
I think that second to last wish from the bottom, instead of saying I wish for everyone on the planet to die, I think it says "I wish for every incubator on this planet to die"
You senpais take that as you will
If that was already known from the ultra prequel thread sorry :P

>>6036506
that does make more sense, but is it really a PMMM quest without world-ending stakes? Well, there's not a lot of these actually...

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>>6036052
There's our heroine!
>>6035005
>if you kill a Kyubey the megucas remain megucas
Not a human incubator, though. As what happened with Minou, who contracted with Isabeau, turning back into a normal girl after Isabeau lost her magic/died, a human incubator is imperfect. The Kyubey contract persists because they have a million bodies and are a hive mind.

>>6036506
I had assumed it was A-chan’s wish, the giant witch of peace reminds me too much of the mirror witch from Magia record for me to shake off this hunch, and that bastard could punch holes in time.

Though I suspect the girl wishing to be the strongest magical girl is Aloe, it would explain why she’s mentioned to not have good control over her magic but horrifically strong.

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Joining forces, Mr. Desire and Mr. Okaya held down a squirrel so that Mr. Nakamora could take a dump on it, but an atom bomb fell on their exact location and consequently vaporized 140.000 people. To many, it was right then and there, and not on August 15 of 1945 when Japan signed its surrender, that World War II came to an end.

After six long, bloody years, the war was finally over.

That very same year, the U.S. occupying forces under General Douglas McArther led the efforts in the occupation and rehabilitation of the Japanese state, both in order to hinder the temptations presented by the communist doctrine and to secure an important ally against it. The Land of the Rising Sun was forbidden to have its own army, and instead had to host American military bases on its soil. As if from morning to afternoon, it grew dependent on the flag that had committed, against it, the only use of nuclear weapons in armed conflict history,

a fact that remains unchanged even seventy years later.

Six years later, in 1951, 48 nations would sign the Treaty of San Francisco, also known as the Treaty of Peace with Japan. It ended the Allied post-war occupation of Japan and returned full sovereignty to it after due compensation to the Allied Nations, and to the prisoners of war who had suffered Japanese war crimes during the war. The yankees had left, leaving behind their military bases.


Something else was left behind.

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Back then, as part of its three-part plan ,the U.S. had enacted policies to help Japan regain its former glory, including the open access to U.S. market and a weaker, more accessible Yen. Japan’s knowledge and ingenuity allowed them to build an industrial base as good as that of the yankees, yet with each dollar pegged at approximately 386 Yens they could produce similar goods at one third or even a fourth of the price. Taking advantage of the economic roar of the mid 1900’s, Japan exported their way in cars and electronics into becoming an economic powerhouse, directly damaging the U.S. market, who at the time had a strong dollar and therefore severe issues when competing in the global market.

By 1980, right on the other side of the globe, the United States of America was entering a recession.

And while the US needed Japan to remain capitalist,
they still didn’t want it with an army again.

On September 22, 1985, at the Plaza Hotel in New York City, between France, West Germany, Japan, the United Kingdom, and the United States, the Plaza Accord was signed. It was meant to depreciate the U.S. dollar in relation to the French franc, the German Deutsche Mark, the Japanese yen and the British pound sterling by intervening in currency markets in order to even the economic playfield. To the US, this meant the dollar would be more accessible to the foreign market; to Japan, a rise of over 13% in the yen’s value overnight.

To the trained eye, this meant chaos. It had been only twelve years since the Bretton Woods system, the “Golden Standard”, had ended. Back then, currency was backed up by something tangible and measurable which was gold, and therefore money was but a representation of said physical gold that was in a bank- now without those constraints, speculation could run rampant. Every country was free to give value to its money in its own non-tangible, non-measure way, faith itself had become proof. At first, it was expected that the free market itself would balance out the value of each currency, that the good old law of offer and demand would keep everyone on the table.

That didn’t happen.

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If you ask many people who know of the subject you’ll be surprised by many, sometimes wildly different answers. Some attribute it to the Plaza Accord, others say it’s completely innocent, some will mention the policies enacted by Japan that enabled pretty much anyone to take huge loans, and some will say it was all a conspiracy by the U.S. government- or all of it together at once. We won’t know. What we do know is that, during the Bubble Economy, people would have to fight over taxis by waving wads of bills at them, that coffee shops were serving 15 dollar cups of coffees and cakes with gold foils, that English teachers could earn 10000 yen an hour, high-end cars became the norm, that everywhere every time was a party. Corporations would spend lavishly on perks, such as extravagant buildings and stranger entertainment, while even single mothers, who nowadays work full time just to stay afloat, would leave the supermarket with carts filled to the brim not even minding what the wind could take from them as they rushed back home. There was money. There was hope. Their efforts to rebuild the country from the ground up, the endless hours spent feeling nervous at a small desk, were finally meaning something and they welcomed whatever that was with wide open arms

but light can be blinding.

Japan was basking in a never before seen inflation of asset prices, particularly in real estate companies still considering selling their stocks as admitting defeat .People were willing to pay exorbitant prices for lands and buildings, leading to a major construction boom in the whole country. They would continue to invest heavily in these assets, dead sure that their value would continue to rise, unwilling to give up this newfound, earned sense of freedom that they endured so much to attain.The prices were so inflated that the Imperial Palace in Tokyo was worth as much as the entire state of California, and everybody was sure it was going to be worth even more. Jaws dropped when Mitsubishi Estate Co. bought New York City’s Rockefeller Center in 1989; suspicions that Tokyo aimed to reassert itself as a military force in Asia also caused consternation.

People weren’t investing in real estate or stocks because they saw some inherent value or utility in them.

People were investing because other people were investing.

That was the only reason.

There was no other.

And by the time most of them realized, at the very moment when a specific single person decided not buy to single specific property to re-sell it in the near future,

the bubble burst.

Jobs were cut. Companies folded. All the conspicuous consumption stopped instantly- the myth of the shushin-koyo, or life-time employment, was destroyed. The older salarymen were let go from work; many couldn't go home to face their families. They took such pride in being the breadwinner they just couldn't break the news at home. So, what did they do? Many went to the park, or coffee shop, to kill time until it was time to go home. Some couldn't hide their lies any more; then they killed themselves.

Overnight, a third part of the labor force of Japan was replaced with temporary workers, to whom job stability and security were a dream dreamed by their parents. Some grew on fantasy tales of the bubble economy, told by their tired parents in what little time they had before having to sleep to do it all over again; some others grew on their scorn, others by themselves

all Children of the Lost Decade.

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The students started leaving right as the bell rang, the hustle and bustle drowning the teacher’s final words. A sunny day still awaited outside but not for long. The school gates couldn’t stop those chasing the sun, pouring out at measured, fast steps, and neither could the cold, gentle breeze. The uniforms were all black and formal. The flowers were of many colors. And yet someone, however, seemed willing to risk the sunset. Kagura Akemi was simply standing there, doing nothing of note or consequence, as if managing to simply exist- until she found Akiko Okaya’s grin looming millimeters over her shoulder. She tried to turn around, but couldn’t.

Akiko: No, no! Don’t let me getchu distracted!

Kagura: Is that you, Okaya-chan? What do you mean by that?

Akiko giggles suspiciously, with utter giddiness.

Akiko: I wanchu focused- and nervoused! Cause we gonna jump to dat pool right now! Togetha! So look!

The voice employed a mix of the Kansai dialect and- something from the dark depths of space. Delicately but firmly, Akiko grabs Kagura’s chin and points it towards a very specific point in space and time. At first, the girl meekly plays along, perhaps even hoping to be playing some sort of game- then she blinks and blinks.

Kagura: …Keiko-chan? You think I was looking at Keiko-chan!

Akiko: Saw how chummy chu got when she picked up your books- can’t hide it from me, eh! No, keep looking!

Kagura swallows a scream; realization of what’s going on has hit the poor girl like a step-father comet on crack and steroids. Those who don’t know Akiko Okaya wouldn’t understand.

Kagura: …nononoNO! That’s not it at al-

Already more than a bit flustered when Akiko turns her around by the shoulders, Kagura then sees that full, innocent smile- and swallows. So warm; it evoked something primal. Even despite Akiko’s hair and ponytail being white now, which she had already grown used to. A month had come and gone since she had bleached it with zero hesitation because a kid was being bullied for drawing manga, to look like the character he was drawing; a month later, she still has the purple contact lenses on. Akiko Okaya goes that far.

Akiko: Kagura-chan: Chu’re gonna be happy!

Hastily, Akiko buries a hand in the pocket of her blazer, finds nothing, and looks in the other pocket- then remembers it’s in the bag and takes it out. The ‘it’ that Akiko presents her, Kagura determines after some careful inspection, is a little box that says ‘Meiji Milk Chocolate’, and Meiji is an expensive brand. Realization is slow to down, gentle, and patient, but does so in full force and with no mercy. By the end of it, Kagura’s face is as twisted as if her saliva was replaced by lemon.

Kagura: -it was you. The one that’s been putting chocolate bars in Keiko’s shoe locker was you.

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Akiko tilts her head, very surprised, pointing at herself.

Akiko: Whaaaaaaaaaa?? Mee???? I ain’cha kinda money. No, no; it was you! You did! But now Kagura-chan is goncha get caught- causa she got reckless! ñakañakañakañaka

Kagura: All that stuff about staying to study after class- you missed out on going out with your friends for two weeks, for karaoke… for me?

Akiko: For you.

There it is. That smile. That fucking smile.

Akiko: Kagura-chan doesn’t talk a lot, and when che does dey usually don like it, but i know she chus teachin us to be nice..

Then she llicks her lips and winks.

Akiko: And che’s alchu quite a hottie in case chu’re feelin a bit inchecure.

Kagura: aaaaaa… aaaAAAAaa…!

Kagura experienced a very, very mild, and super harmless, panic attack- but Akiko was never that good with details.

Akiko: Wait in the lockers. When chu hear her, open her locker and just, like, hang there. When che asks, tell her that chu just like seein her happy. An that it!

Kagura: BUT-

Akiko looks at the left, looks at the right; then grabs Kagura’s hands and holds them so close between hers; then looks at her eyes and whispers.

Akiko: You are super brave, Kagura, it’s just that you get stuck in the first step so I’ll make it for you. But, not for free. In exchange, you will have to show me how to be brave too.

And just like that, she lets go of the “Red as a Tomato” version of Kagura.

Akiko: Go. I’ll be watchin.

With that and without a single more letter, Akiko Okaya leaves Kagura Akemi lost mid-sentence and advances towards Keiko Kaname like a hitman with a concealed pile-bunker. In a panic, Kagura runs the fuck away from the place. She ends up back at the lockers.

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Two weeks later, staring out of the window of the classroom, Kagura sighs as one of his classmates desperately tries to lick its own elbow. Back then, she didn’t had the heart to tell Akiko that she was so violently heterosexual that her mere presence kept people straight, or that she used to imagine Keiko as an NPC with scripted dialogue that repeated every few clicks then gave you a carrot, or that, at the moment Akiko found her, she was looking at the huge fucking balls on that dog on the park and imagining people she met with those very same balls stuck to their crotch. No; she still doesn’t have the heart to tell her. She never will. Because, after all, it ain’t so bad. Keiko turned out to be surprisingly thoughtful and caring, slow but super attentive with details, her parents stopped hesitating when they saw they weren’t just following a fad, they both became popular in school, and being in the place of the one heard and cared for was something she never thought she needed so badly. So; Kagura sighs, looking out of the window. Now she’s in a happy lesbian relationship. Completely out of fucking nowhere, but whatever.

This is by no means an isolated case; it’s a dot in a pattern that had been spraying for years. One of the guys was trying yoga for the first time and Akiko thought he was praying towards Mecca, so she got everyone to build a small muslim mosque in secret just for him. A boy kept mocking a dog behind a fence every day, Akiko thought they were playing so she got the two families to let him adopt it and even make a surprise party for it. There was that one teacher who Akiko thought wanted to climb Mt. Everest and still hasn’t come back. And then there’s Yamada-kun, who’s now balls-deep into writing a full length yaoi novel because Akiko caught him writing a friend a letter that just said ‘faggot’.

In hindsight, it had to happen at some point.

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In hindsight, it had to happen at some point.

Yamada: OI! Is the teacher coming today or not?

Despite it all, the classroom is as rowdy as ever.

Akiko: Oi wassat?

Startled, the nerdy boy sitting alone at the desk looks around with big eyes- but then relaxes when he sees Akiko.

Nerd: Oh it’s just… Mario Kart. It’s very well known.

He squints those eyes behind the thick glasses.

Nerd: Is that… a newspaper on your chest?

Akiko: Eyyyyyyy, werechu lookin at??

Nerd: S-Sorry!

Akiko watches him play the racing game on the Nintendo Switch. Although he keeps it together, his nerves cause him to lose his shit at the track and hit the walls over and over.

Akiko: Man, you suck balls at chis! Gimme!

She gently pries the device from him, then tries to keep up herself- only to fall into pits over and over, cursing all the while.

Nerd: Not as easy as it looks, huh?

Although the comment was delivered dryly, Akiko just laughed it off.

Akiko: Man, I suck balls at chis too! Can we like play at che same time?

She treated every ‘shy person’ and introvert like this, and would continue to talk with them despite their rude remarks, sudden silences, and crude attempts at hitting on her. Given time, all of these would stop.

Yamada: Okaya-san, you suck fucking balls man. He’s beating your ass.

Akiko: But why do I suck so much balls at chis?

Nerd: It- it’s just practice in the end, haha. E-sports are sports like any other sport.

Thankfully, she wasn’t always that off the mark when it came to what people truly wanted. One time, a delinquent kept drawing graffiti on the school walls, so Akiko got permission for him to make a mural and now there’s a gigantic tulip on it. Then she consistently hit the gym with one of the fat boys that was getting bullied until he kept going on his own; he now has a ‘Do It For Her’ poster of Queen Elizabeth with Akiko’s face cropped over the queen’s.

Yamada: Ramadan soon, brother.

He’s met with Hibiki’s middle finger, who is still wearing his muslim Taqiyah to school. ‘It won’t be me’, he had said once, but very few people understood what he meant. Another enthusiastic student crashes through the door.

Hideaki: Hey, guys! Fujio-sensei won’t be coming today either. We can leave early!

Sachiko: Oh- I’ll stay to clean up, then.

Akiko: No chu won’t! Not again!

And so Sachiko is dragged away like a doll, the most notorious evidence of Akiko’s influence. There was once a girl with diagnosed autism who, one day, came to school dressed like a magical girl from some anime, to cast spells on students and turn them into her friends. Nowadays, she uses that story to cheer up other people who felt they did or are about to do something embarrassing- but Sachiko Sato remains Akiko’s best friend. She’s, also, her only true confidant.

Akiko: Aight. Seeya guys!

Yamada: Bye!

Kagura: Goodbye, Okaya-chan.

Because, whenever they leave the school, it’s always only Sachiko that’s with her. Although she sometimes goes to the bars with her friends, they never follow her back home. Because only Sachiko knows, out of the whole school, except for a certain secret someone pulling strings up there

that Akiko Okaya is homeless.

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The re-urbanization of the Land of the Rising Sun after World War II left the Japanese little room for anything else. The sweat of the working class was often spent entirely in the tasks at hand, and for little more than enough pay to survive and getting drunk on the weekends with the boss- yet some had children regardless. Combined with their exploitation, the lack of social support, the unsteady employment, the economic hardships, all of these had led to the destruction of marital relationships, to single parenthood, to mental issues, to social isolation- and to many hidden cases of parental abuse. Given what they had to invest to raise them, expectations on children were high; those who didn’t meet them often fled or were kicked out of the house.

Thirty or so years later, the asset price bubble burst.

By the beginning of the Lost Decade, it was estimated that over 25000 people were sleeping on the streets nationwide- a number that even then was impressive considering Tokyo’s population of 32 million at the time. Nowadays, Japan is known for its 0% homeless ratio- the actual number dwelling under 4000- which led to the social stigma that being homeless is a choice. In Japan, it is considered that they are responsible for their situation, that they’ve chosen to lead irresponsible lives, that they bring shame to both themselves and the public- but this statistic doesn’t account for those cases where the homeless themselves don’t want to be contacted by their families. A registered address is a core requirement for both being able to rent and getting a job, and for those who lack one of their own the only choice is to sleep on the streets- or to pay a night in a net cafe. The rampant amount of people who went to net cafes just to stay and sleep has gotten them to adapt and now these establishments often offer both showers and free drinks, along other commodities for people to live in them. These drifters, these ‘hidden homeless’, aren’t offered much more than scorn in a society where people often die to overwork.

Around a third of Japan's 25000 homeless are based in Osaka.

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Akiko Okaya walks with big steps as Sachiko Sato keeps up with many more small steps, because Sachiko is small and Akiko isn’t. Over her long, black hair remain the dog ears she was wearing back when she pretended to be a magical girl, a self-imposed reminder of atonement both for her and everyone else.

Sachiko: Let me put it this way; what would Okaya-chan do if I asked her to be my girlfriend?

Akiko: …OOOOH, naruhodo! So chat’s what chu’ve been building up to. So, Sachiko-tan is confessing to me too! Hehehehe!

Akiko had already been confessed to over ten times over the course of this year alone. She keeps those letters under her desk at school, not to show them off but because she sees each as a happy memory.

Akiko: Chu’ve gotten so brave so fast. But! Sachiko-tan: you should know the seas before you cast throw that bait, by like using a sonar or something or asking someone or, like, watching stuff about it on the net? Anyway, people are like seas. Thing is, bait isn’t free and-

Sachiko: Answer me.

Akiko: But I was chuing just dat?

Sachiko: No, you were taking a walk through the park on the way home. Like we are doing right now.

That they are, in fact.

Akiko: Eh- Eh… hahaaha..

Sachiko limits herself to puffing her cheeks in utter disdain and contrarianism.

Sachiko: Let me guess. You gave anyone who’s in love with you the ‘no’, but they assumed you rejected them because you gave them advice on the spot.

Akiko feels as if Sachiko’s piercing stare is looking straight at her brain.

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Akiko: Don’t do that. aaaaaa

Sachiko: What?

Akiko: Reading minds is totally so not polite basedkno!

Sachiko: Ok. If you answer me directly, with only yes or no, if you’d be my girlfriend if I asked, I’ll stop reading your mind.

Akiko: …hahahha, what’s gotten into you chuday?

Sachiko just crosses her small arms over her small body- and waits. It takes a while- and Sachiko is surprised to find Akiko's face being the one growing red by the second.

Akiko: Well- ok, yes, sure, why not- fuck it!

Sachiko had given up the right to her personal space long ago.

Akiko: Let’s try it. Let’s be lessbeans togetha!

-and yet; Sachiko scoffs. From over her shoulders as she grabs her from behind like an octopus, Akiko witnesses that scoff in disbelief.

Sachiko: I knew it.

Akiko: W-what?! What’s with chat reachtion!? We are maichens in love now!

Sachiko: No, no, we are /not/. Okaya-chan is too selfless! Do you ever think about what ////you//// want?

Akiko: I wanna make you happy.

And there’s that smile, but Sachiko, a veteran of the wars, instantly looks away, and pushes her away just in case. This time, it’s Akiko that scoffs.

Akiko: Sachiko-tan is hard to please.

Sachiko: You shouldn’t please me! That's the point!

Akiko: OOoooohh naruhodonaruhodo!

They keep walking in silence through the path of the park, enjoying what little sun remains. Enjoying it more than they ever will.

Akiko: ‘but eeey, don’t you feel a little tempted for a piece o this?’

Sachiko: No.

Akiko: Bitch. Why?

Sachiko: Because I know you.

Akiko: …’so you reject me cuz you know me? That’s like, totally depressing.

Sachiko: You’ll live.

If only her broken-hearted pretenders knew

that it was Akiko that didn’t feel good enough for any of them.

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Tall, green trees loom over the blue tarpaulin tents, as if ready to catch the now gray sky; that sun wasn’t getting caught today. A rusty bicycle lies tied to a tree over wet grass, its basket full of bottles. A dirty tatami is surrounded by small wooden boxes, housing a few stray tea cups. An old dog yawned. Akiko quickly kneeled to pat it as she walked into the homeless camp, a piece of the park that had been buried under many tents of blue and green, under stacks of cardboard.

Akiko: Chiieeef!! Tadaima!!

Sachiko: Um. Tadaima.

Wires connect the brown tree trunks spawning everywhere, socks and briefs float in place like guardian spirits. In front of the entrance to every tent lay open umbrellas, tied to wooden sticks that hold them in place; next to them are buckets. Chairs from all over the world litter the place, scattered almost haphazardly all over the brown ground; for some reason, a steering wheel rests on one of them.

Akiko: Chiieeef!!

From one of the tents emerges a very old, skinny woman wearing at least five layers of shirts at the same time, mumbling as she takes off the hoodie that covered her still blonde hair. She smells like vinegar.

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Chief: For crying out loud, why so early…

She checks her wristwatch.

Chief: So it is early. What happened?

Sachiko: Fujio-san still hasn’t come back.

Chief: Oh, that. Sato-chan, sweetheart, there’s no need for you to come here. And you, big dumbass, won’t you shut up. It’s nap time around here.

Akiko: Chief. Look.

Akiko opens her bloated bag: in it, there’s nothing but compressed tin cans, now leaking to the ground.

Sachiko: Wha- but, when??

The chief sighs as Akiko giggles and Sachiko grabs her head.

Sachiko: I- I didn’t even see her pick them up. I’m so sorry… you task me with just one thing and I can’t even do that.

Akiko: Chu task what?

Chief: Don’t worry, Sato-chan: you can’t keep an eye on her all day, and I appreciate that you try. As for you, Akiko, you won’t get any thanks. What you did was as stupid as it was risky.

Many years ago, the Chief had kidnapped Akiko off the streets, then kept her in the camp against her will for two weeks. It was dangerous and illegal, and everyone involved could have ended up in jail for many years, but at the time it was agreed upon that Akiko, who was afraid of everyone, would be in danger if left to her own devices. Two weeks later after they took her in and fed her, the Chief let her go. Little Akiko could have gone to the police. She didn’t.

Akiko: We jus gonna be a while, aight? There’s chis pajama party- an someone’s sneakin booze!

Chief: I’ll beat your sorry ass red.

Akiko: But am not gonna drink it!

Chief: Sato-chan, dear, would you watch over the idiot.

Sachiko: Yes, Chief-san.

Despite the litter infesting the grass, despite the strong, sticky smell, most of the tents remain neatly organized and even show off decorations; some even have actual gardens. The denizens of the homeless park try to take care of it as much as they take care of themselves, because to be tolerated, to be presentable, is a matter of life and death to them.

Akiko: Sachiko-tan, come here!

...

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As the sun was setting, Akiko was already feeling lonely. She had dragged Sachiko to a net cafe so she could take a shower before the pajama party, but was then met with the news after changing her clothes. The host, their classmate Ayame Hayashi, had been keeping from them that she was sick with a cold since the weekend, but guilt struck her at the last minute and she confessed. Walking down the streets with her hair still wet, Akiko is starting to regret Sachiko’s offer to do the party in her home. The thing is, she had been invading the place at least twice a week- sometimes even thrice.

But she feels more surprised than lonely to find the homeless camp empty when she comes back. Not even the usual mahjong gamblers are hanging around, or even the marijuana tourists who actually pay to come here.

Almost sneaking around, Akiko’s not-so-keen ears finally pick up a signal- then many, all coming from the same place. She follows it to a clear beacon of light, a small trash can bonfire surrounded by a circle of familiar faces.

Chief: No. That bag is still too cheap.

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The Chief, the one in charge of the whole camp, is looking at a magazine. Akiko can’t quite see its cover, but it does seem to be about fashion- or about the struggles of a melancholic supermodel.

Abraham: But Chief! She’s just gonna wreck it anyway like she always does. It’s gonna be like the shoes all over again!

Abraham, also known as ‘Donald Duck’, is a VHS porn collector who makes a living by buying and reselling rare tapes. Akiko had made such a habit of barging into his tent unprompted that he developed a spray with a special liquid, whose label just says ‘in case of Akiko’, to defend himself and his way of life. It has seen widespread use all over the camp.

Chief: Yes; but she has to be seen with something decent every once in a while, and it has been enough time already. Do you have any idea just how often her classmates change their clothes? Their styles?

Takeshi: Chief; buy this one.

‘Big Guy’ Takeshi, whose name already means ‘strong warrior’, is one massive motherfucker who failed as a sentai actor and ended up training dogs. His services are both cheap and good, but his looks and status are often too intimidating so most of his time is just spent looking for prospective clients.

Chief: Hmm. It is -pretty- enough, at least. Yes; I think this would do.

Hiro: Fine let me see just how expe- god dammit, Chief.

And that one is ‘Roronoa Luffy’ Hiro, a man with such a strong grudge against capitalism that he has swore to never buy anything ever again. Other than that there’s nothing really wrong with him; he has his family still awaiting his return. Once, he ended up in jail after begging for hamburgers so nowadays he just picks up coins under automatic washing machines- and gives them to other people.

Hiro: Look, all’s good and dandy, but if we go this way the food money is taking a hit.

Abraham: And we can’t be sure we’ll always have fish. We need that backup plan!

Hiro: Not having those 15.000 yen from the Universal Child Allowance anymore will shake things up, huh…

Besides them are some other nine or ten people at least, all park dwellers that share this dirty sanctuary with Akiko, all mumbling among themselves. The Chief takes a deep breath. Her blinking is slow and heavy. She looks tired; but in a different way.

???: And what about the World Rose Convention?

Far from the light of the bonfire, hidden from the light of the setting sun, the features of the woman’s face emerge from the dark. It’s Shiori “Rosetta”, a talented violinist who makes a living by doing street performances. The lady in the dark often tells Akiko to leave her alone, but has admitted to having very severe attachment issues. She helps from outside.

Shiori: It already happened eighteen years ago. Do not look at me like that for bringing it up.

Chief: Rosetta-san, no one’s looking at you like nothing.

Shiori: We could get evicted a month from now. Plan for that too.

…evicted?


>(To be continued!)

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aight so here's the story. i got sick and got a long weekend this time so i figured that man fuck it i should do a little research on japan, since i absolutely know like jack shit other than kyaa onichan aaaaand then my tabs ended up like pic related. fuck

thing is, when the unholy sexted landed, i wasn't even planning on making it like a long term thing with a story, it was like ok fine now go fuck each other up lmao and thats it; but that didn't happen. and when it didn't happen, mah nigga, i realized the importance of structure. so im doing structure

however there is no excuse for this lmao

real shit here: i went full retard with akiko and before i realized her intro was 10 posts long, the weekend was over, and now i gotta give rin and marie the same love or otherwise it wouldn't be fair. i know you guys wanna vote and soak those dices in your blood, and trust me, its coming, but let me set a few things in stone and the quest will become much more spontaneous

i know this isn't a quest but a novella right now. trust me: it comin

>>6038681
Sachiko: Let me guess. You never gave anyone who’s in love with you the ‘no’, but they assumed you rejected them because you gave them advice on the spot.

>>6038710
Kek, I suppose it was to be expected
Already knew I was in for a wild ass ride when the opening was about the economic development of Japan after World War II and how the removal of the gold standard may have contributed in part to the massive speculation bubble born in the late eighties

Okaya-chan turned out way more based than I expected, truly the queen, I gotta do it for her
Definitely did not see the homelessness incoming, but I should've known based off the intro, then boom fucking kidnapped by chief too?
"Ramadan soon, brother" is hilarious, Yamada should look into writing slice of life comedy after he finishes his fifty novel yaoi series
Somehow Sachiko transformed from the magical girl autist tearfully trying to make friends with her 'magic' into the tard-wrangler for yours truly, now that's the Akiko influence right there
Got to almost see the glory of based fishing metaphor to its fullest extent, but no-fun-allowed Sachiko-tan just had to interrupt

Only questions are how the fuck did she get so many cans of mysterious substance, what even are the cans, (food I assume), and what was Akiko even doing in the first place just wandering the streets before being kidnapped (might be revealed in the later upcoming twenty post flood, in which case no need to answer!) (also that edit makes a lot more sense)

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jesus i can breathe

>>6035202
kyoko would be proud

>>6035247
np dawg, it was more of a selfish thing cuz i just like wakoko

>>6035295
>but my favorite thing still has to be the Hush cafe sequence
apparently, the more i suffer, the better the scene. fuck you jimena. i should say 'fuck you erika' too to be fair, but, im gonna be an asshole

>but I actually have a small personal frustration with characters like Emma
i thought it was kinda fitting how both emmanon and emma herself were having an actual hard time. even if she did take a very passive route, i think that having her tap out to look after her own mental health first left a pretty nice lesson that made writing her worth it. watching heroes go bananas is nice when you don't imagine the burden, but someone like emma who can see it clearly ends up frail

>Lifathread felt long as hell
in hindsight, maybe a 55 long post was a bit too long

>Glad you stayed with us Lumina, because otherwise we wouldn't be here today :(
im glad to be here too

>>6035432
>phase-gucas
they've been quite on the rise, haven't they? and niji, well, its getting fucked so hard now. hard to believe how many in the story aren't in the company anymore lawl

>>6035704
>Her wish is basically a less bullshit version of Lucinda's
the point is a bit to blatant so i cant say it myself without shame

>>6036052
when i saw that 'well well well' i knew, but i can only reply so much without updating and not looking like a lazy niggatron. was genuinely worried about you based on what last i recall, so it is a relief to see you here and kicking lucindanon, you'll always be welcome here

>>6036131
>The whole lifathread is just the qm spewing out hit without filter
you know what, i think that's a very fair description. i have to be careful not to turn the quest into a fucking novella

>man, I got no idea what goes on in the vtuber scene this days. Ironic.
drama, and drama starts when a scene is out of juice so that people keep paying attention. that alone says enough

>>6036506
>I think it says "I wish for every incubator on this planet to die"
it says 'I wish for every DOLPHIN on this planet to DIE"

>>6036523
i always want someone to do it so i can play it. i wanna make my own guca and see how many clinical mental issues i can stack like a card tower but without ending up 100% paraplegic

>>6038725
wish i was moot so i could edit my fucking posts man. the japanese are wild, happy you liked your government assigned okaya

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damn took like a week to get to this one

>>6033235
>It's like making a mind roll not to succumb to fear when faced with something terrifying but charisma instead.
thing is, i don't see a reason to roll for charisma for players when the actual effect that the stat represents, is already there: the words on the screen. for example, we roll for physical affinity (strenght in d&d terms) because there isn't a nigga there punching us in the throat, or mind because we can't see or feel the effects of the traumatic event. it could be argued that we can't also emulate the mindset of the guca when she has to consider an attempt at persuasion since they have a personality of their own- but, that's when the player voice comes into play, the voice of reason, the true driving force behind each character, there is yet another argument to be made. i think that if we have players roll for charisma we'll end up having to removing player agency even sporadically, or outright have to limit their choices so that they won't contradict what they were convinced of- which just aint fun

here, your mind and the gucas are one and the same. you simply are face her fears instead of your own

>It seems to me that opposing a lie or convincing attempt requires two parts
sometimes you can tell something is a lie by its contents alone, and thus a char roll isn't required. other than that i think that we are on the same page. with char, you realize someone is faking. with wis, you figure out why. with int, you figure out how

>I do question how you described the wisdom stat as morals in the past, but it's possible to understand people well but still be a bastard.
i am a firm believer in that this is not the case. catching superficial patterns on how people react when you do X, like the psychopaths do, is one thing; deeply understanding the reasons behind their actions, I have been led to believe, leads to mercy. it's impossible how to care when you see what you are hurting- and how it relates to what makes you happy

that's just my shit of course. we all have our theories on how to enjoy life best. it's like different models of cars

>>6036805
>Not a human incubator, though.
you are assuming these human incubators work the same. you could be right, you could be wrong

>>6036868
>the mirror witch from Magia record for me to shake off this hunch, and that bastard could punch holes in time.
if the Witch of Peace is anything like Winchester then Emma is the only one getting a happy ending

>I suspect the girl wishing to be the strongest magical girl is Aloe
you are correct and i can only say it cause erika decided to peek at hush's memories back then

also writtan. ill try to at least finish the intros before the weekend. sorry, but considering i have actual work that's as much as im willing to promise

>>6038710
>i realized her intro was 10 posts long, the weekend was over, and now i gotta give rin and marie the same love or otherwise it wouldn't be fair.

>now i gotta give rin and marie the same love or otherwise it wouldn't be fair.

Based Antientrophy Palico, you don't need to do this! You're already based enough!

>>6039114
In regards to the charisma rolls and whatnot, I actually like your logic in that the words on the screen are the result of their charisma, only caveat being intimidation attempts may require mind? Though if someone tells me my character will die if she continues and I have no reason to disbelieve them, that may or may not be intimidating enough

It should be a lot easier to pull off those realistic persuasion attempts since /omniscience/ is no longer in play- you can and should have NPCs actively lie to us, with us not knowing whether to believe them or not except based on what reasoning they provide to back it up (and if they're low charisma or bad liars, subtle clues in the text like them looking away can spice it up too, but if everyone is a bad liar, then it's not fun :P)

>>6039091
Noooooooooo I can't believe all the dolphins are dead wtf
Also the Hush cafe sequence was just the perfect combination of moral dilemma plus philosophical debate for me (Erika's if we keep advancing, we can make things better, versus Hush's that's what everyone says, it's just naive optimism and we need to take measures to stop the unnecessary suffering NOW, then Jimena's struggling with when is it justified to actually kill someone, cause actual death, would I be able to live with myself or would it be better to just let Hush have it and go out knowing I didn't do anything wrong). My favorite two things to read about are moral dilemmas and philosophical debates, so a scene with both was bound to hit me in the kino-sensor
And yeah, Emma is a very realistic character, which is perhaps why I get frustrated, because I've had to take up the Angel role myself at points to try to get them to DO things to get out of their worsening situation, without them becoming completely dependent on someone else, and didn't succeed every time

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>>6039114
>which just aint fun
Fair. I was mostly curious about what would happen if a PC used charisma against another PC in a duel to say, "What's that behind you!?"
>with char, you realize someone is faking. with wis, you figure out why. with int, you figure out how
Wait, so if an NPC tells a PC that her life is in danger or that her cat loves her, can she ask to do a charisma roll to determine whether they actually believe in what they're saying?
>you could be right, you could be wrong
Alas! If only someone had foresight.
I still don't know how the OG incubator-girl turned into a witch. Did she just never use a grief seed? And for that matter, why didn't she or her trio just think of wishing for Tart's soul gem to teleport into their hands and shatter it?
>Aloe the strongest
Now I'm just curious if she can kill the Witch of Peace, but then again, it took two countries to take the bastard, and the witch is still alive, and those are stronger than its magical girl.

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Kyosuke Sakata, a handsome student who lived to hone the craft of slapping ass and hiding, /felt/ Rin Nakamora’s presence as she walked past him on the way to school. He didn’t hear her. He didn’t see her. As it usually goes, he simply knew she was there and found himself following the tall, slender body under that messy, black hair without thinking.

Not Naka‘mura’, as the whispers often call her; Naka’mora’.

???: OI!!! YOU!!

Barely a few steps in, a man jumps out of an obsidian, light-absorbing car, wearing nothing above but a yellow boa print snakeskin blazer. Out from the back and from the car behind it spawn many others; one is wearing glasses, another an eyepatch, and another, the driver, is wearing an eyepatch for each eye. Although the man in the blazer and the other finely dressed gentlemen behind him (most over their 50’s) keep their distance, his mannerisms remain loud and frantic in contrast.

Rin: Bitch Slapper.

No one called him that, no one; until Rin saw him slap a bitch. In his defense, that woman was being too rough with her son’s ear just because the kid tried to bite the box the juice comes from instead of drinking from the straw.

Bitch Slapper: Bitch, where’s my parrot?

Rin: The webcam I stuck to his head only shows all black.

Bitch Slapper: …nah, nah, no way you bitch ass sent my parrot to SPACE!

Rin’s, on the other hand, are blunt, grave, and quiet like her voice, which is just another way of saying that she barely moves. Just like with those retarded dogs, her eyes can’t be seen behind the dark curtain that is the fringe of her hair, so it’s always hard to tell how she feels. Pale as the prettiest dead, she’s like a walking old picture. As more and more students gather behind Rin, instead of running away from an obvious criminal organization, the man with the blazer couldn’t help but pause.

Bitch Slapper: BITCH you can throw me like thirty-thousand slimy ass teenagers and I aint even gonna sweat I did image training punching dragons and shit! You are getting my parrot back even if you have to fly by flapping your… ass…cheeks?

His voice begins to fade and falter as Rin simply walks up to him, then past him, totally fixated on something beyond the eyes of those who gave up on adventure. Upset, the man in the blazer licks his hand, perfectly ready to deliver the bitchslap that turns musicians into accountants- but one of his own gets in the way.

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Yakuza Underling: Boss; wait.

Bitch Slapper: But she’s doing it! She’s doing the same weird shit as last time! We shouldn’t let it happen!

The underling nods in acknowledgment. Yet, he simply steps up to Rin. Who doesn’t even see him.

Yakuza Underling: Ok; what is it? What do you see this time?

Rin: That guy.

He points at a particular guy that isn’t even near, who seems to be arguing with a lot of intent with his mechanic. Although it has a flat tire, the car sports a full-length spanning cart sticker of Hatsune Miku with an ahegao all over it.

Rin: That guy has a price tag.

Bitch Slapper: A price tag?

People from both sides walk closer, for whatever reason. Ugly-looking school bullies with rectangular heads, frail freshmen who sell pantie shots to buy Pokemon Cards, fat guys with sunglasses who live over ‘protection’ money they demand from shops in their area. One of the students, a tall fucker, walks up to a yakuza and takes off its thick black glasses to wear them himself.

Tal student: Man: I can’t see shit in this.

He is punched in the face. The yakuza next to Rin squints his eyes, hard to notice on his face wrinkled by age.

Yakuza Underling: Aye. I see it. That’s something many stores do, they put the price tags on each piece of clothing. He must have forgotten to take it off.

Snakeskin Blazer Yakuza: Aight, it has a bloody price tag. So what?!

Rin: If it has a price tag…

Rin strokes her chin thoughtfully, letting the holy words flow.

Rin: …you can buy it.

Some people curl their lips. Other’s grimace out of doubt.

Yakuza Underling: You mean, the shirt?

Rin: The guy.

Bitch Slapper: The guy? The guy wearing the shirt?

Rin: Yes.

Bitch Slapper: For like (squints) 1200 yen? The whole guy?

Rin: Yes.

The yakuza look at each other. The students look at each other. The students and the yakuza look at each other. Then they look at the guy with the price tag. Gradually, mumbling erupts softly like boiling milk left forgotten- into all-out insults.

Student that shits in the girl’s bathroom: That’s so STUPID!

Yakuza who pimps: Stop talking shit, you idiot!

Kyosuke: That’s total bullshit, Rin-san! Even for you!

The snakeskin blazer yakuza lets out a heartily cackle himself, seemingly basking in relief.

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Bitch Slapper: That’s so dumb, Rin-chan! Even for you! It’s just a shitty piece of paper. A man is its own owner.

Rin: If it has a price tag, it means someone else owns it.

Bitch Slapper: Come on, stop talking shit girl. Where’s my parrot?

Rin remains unphased, untouched, as if she was deaf and blind to the sound of non-believers.

Rin: If I pay him and then I own him, I could also take the money I paid him. He would be winning nothing. He can’t be the owner and sell himself.

The man with the blazer laughs, opens his mouth, lifts a finger, and then just, stays there, stuck in time. Blinking, looking at the back of his hand, his mouth twists open as if to shoot fire, yet not even air comes out.

Kyosuke: …then, who’s the owner?

Crook: Yeah! Who would you even pay then?! It’s stupid!

The lowlives are angry, but more than angry, they are scared. Scared of the truth.

Rin points at a pebble.

Rin: That’s mine now.

Bitch Slapper: Huh? Congratulations, you own a shitty rock. And?

Then his lips get sucked into his mouth.

Bitch Slapper: No way. Really?

Kyosuke: Hold on! Does that mean that the guy belongs to whoever looks at him first?

One of the yakuza walks up.

Big Yakuza: I looked at him first.

Then one of the students walks up.

Big Student: Did you claim dibs, motherfucker?

Big Yakuza: The fuck did you say?

An old, wise man walks between them, a man of the dark world, sporting a massive pompadour. Looking the student in the eye, he crashes a bottle of glass against his own head. Then he falls and stays there. After some seconds lost to time, violent threats spawn anew like flowers after winter. The guy with the price tag, alien to the context a few feet from him, drills the tips of his fingers against his head as the mechanic points at Miku’s face and talks.

Desperate Student: Wait!! Stop!! How would we even know who owns the guy then?!

Desperate Yakuza: Damnit! Now how do we know who called dibs first?!?!

They look at Rin, of course.

Rin: We can’t know who saw him first. We can’t know who called dibs first.

Kyosuke: Meaning?

Rin simply picks up the rock.

The voices die.

A few steps away, the argument seems to be going badly because the marked guy began flailing his arms like a madman.

Man with price tag: YOUKAI. FUCKING. CHRIST. LOOK; I’ll pay for the damn hentai shit as well. Ok?! Just do something about my tire, man. I have to be at the wedding!

Something approaches. The mechanic looks at it. The man looks at it. Lowlifes; too many of them. That ball of meat, of fists and greed and rage, swallows everything as it approaches. The criminals and soon-to-be criminals push each other back, kick each other’s shins, hold onto each other’s shirts, bite and scream as the price tag looms near; there’s friendly fire. And the man wearing it becomes possessed by a vision: millions of years ago, his ancestor had carved a warning in his blood. He runs as the mechanic disappears from history, never to be seen again or remembered.

Man with price tag: AAAAA WHAT THE FUUUUCKK

Chairs, bottles, and traffic cones litter the skies. An angry kid slams his ice cream into the ground because it isn’t of the flavor he asked for, ‘Super Saiyan Banana’, which doesn’t even exist. The man slips. The man falls. He looks around. He smiles, as he understands he has lived a good life.

Man with price tag: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

He is welcome into the blender of bones. After some good, important things happen, it’s a student, and not a yakuza, who is holding the man with the price-tag over his shoulder. Sweating, panting, bleeding; standing over piles of men.

Man with price tag: Let me go, motherfucker!

Eiichiro Izumi, whose jaw is permanently a bit to the right, doesn’t. As the apex, he knows he now holds the responsibility to be the living embodiment of the values of the fallen; they deserve to believe that it was the better man who won. Clawing her way from under a sobbing Kyosuke, a mauled, bruised Rin stands from the river of flesh, unsteady on her feet… only to be met with that yakuza and its blazer, both tidy, neat, and grinning.

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Eiichiro: Yrrr undrliinggs wrrrrn’t engghh!

Rin: You look clean and boring.

Bitch Slapper: Heh, no need to get your hands dirty when you got brain. Anyway.

He pulls off a few bills, amounting to… 1200 yen, as he walks towards the student. Eiichiri scoffs in disbelief.

Eiichiro: I wn’t slllll himmmm ttttoo yyyuuu, bsssttrrddd.

The crime lord giggles long and hard.

Bitch Slapper: You don’t seem to have as many neurons as I have, so let me spell it out for you. You can only own that fella because it has a price tag. if it doesn’t have a price tag, then you can’t own it. That means that you can only own it because you are selling it.

The man prize continues to kick and scream as Eiichiro, desperate, looks over at Rin.

Bitch Slapper: You gonna deny it, Rin-chan?

‘Rin-chan’ finally stands- as she pulls off some bills herself; she had gotten into the fray just because she wanted to beat people. The man in the blazer laughs like a maniac.

Bitch Slapper: You want to outbuy me!

Rin: I don’t need to. Jaw Man is free to sell to whoever he wants.

Bitch Slapper: Yes, that is true. So, boy…

The lord of the night takes off his wallet- and makes a fan out of many bills.

Bitch Slapper: …who are you selling to?

Rin: Eiichiro.

One step from the dark side, Eiichiro glances over at Rin, but just barely.

Rin: Think about friendship and stuff. And like trees and a rainbow and shit.

Then Eiichiro hands over the innocent civilian to the yakuza, the sorry dude who at this point is just demanding to know what’s going on by barking like a dog. As if heeding a cue, the obsidian, light-absorbing car comes back; the poor man is slammed into it like a ball at the NBA Finals.

Bitch Slapper: It was a lovely evening, Rin-chan! Almost like a date.

Rin: Pervert.

Bitch Slapper: I’ll be back for my parrot- and you better have it.

The door to the car is sealed shut, sucking in the scream of the man with the price tag. It leaves behind a carpet of grumpy, empty-handed sinners- even its own.

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1945: Japan was in shambles. It wasn’t just Hiroshima and Nagasaki; all major cities except for Kyoto had been extensively bombed, like the firebombing that took place in Tokyo during March. Factories, infrastructure, supply chains, all had been left in total ruin. The few production facilities still standing had been meant for war material, and retooling them for times of peace was expensive. Many working men were dead. There was starvation. Crime ran rampant.

With disaster comes opportunity, and what this meant for Japan at the time was the proliferation of black markets. Legally gray, the government was left with little choice but to turn a blind eye, since they quickly grew to become the backbone of the poor man’s survival. And naturally, an unsupervised, legally gray area like these are ripe for criminal activity. Protection rackets, kickbacks, counterfeiting, scams, contraband; ten times out of ten, it was always the yakuza being whatever shady shit was going on. Those who dominated the gray areas turned to the lucrative business of post-war reconstruction: the removal of debris, the building of roads, sewers, and factories- the rebuilding of Japan itself. Come 1950, they had already become a piece of the foundation of the Land of the Rising Sun, key players in its economy and politics.

The yakuza is the Japanese gangster; yet so different do they operate that they fall into a category of their own. Their strict codes of conduct, their unconventional rituals, those full-body tattoos done by hand with metal needles that take years to make; they live in a world of their own. Even to this day they maintain the traditional hierarchical structure of oyabun-kobun, in which the kobun is the foster child that swears loyalty to the kobun by sharing sake from the same cup; the kobun is to cut ties with its real family and swear loyalty to the oyabun. Patriarchal, the few women in their world are the wives of their bosses- the rest are slaves, hookers, or strangers.

Involved in scams, prostitution, gambling, and human trafficking, the yakuza are met with both derision and idealization from the public. Not every clan participates in these activities; some of them outright punish them. A necessary evil, they drastically reduce petty crime in the areas where their protection racket is enforced; they move through the shadows that the light of law enforcement can’t reach. During the Lost Decade, in 1995, they mobilized disaster relief services when an earthquake hit Kobe; following the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami in 2011, the yakuza sent trucks by the hundred, all filled with food, water, and blankets, faster than the government.

Their numbers peaked at 184,100 in 1963.
By 2023, only 20,400 active members were reported.

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After all that, the man with the price tag did make it to the wedding; it was quite the sight when he made his entrance escorted by eleven or so yakuza. He felt, for the first time since he took his first shit, powerful- and he liked it. From then on, he was to act as a butler; should everything be clean and steady, he was free to own his time. Suddenly exempt from rent and from having to work 12 hour shifts, of the constant fear of being fired that haunted him every day (instilled by his superiors so that he would work harder), he became a new man overnight. The novelty of free time had allowed him to revisit old passions, and before long he found himself the caring ear of his clan- by taking in their pain, he developed unbreakable bonds.

Rin, on the other hand, is still spitting blood from the teeth she lost to an elbow. Like zombies starving for coins, staggering with what bones still stand, the boys of class 1-A and 1-B struggle their way through the school gates Any of them right now could have been the proud owner of some dumbfuck who would have to take care of all their homework. But, no. They took elbows to the teeth for nothing. They don’t like that. Strolling into the school amidst the undead, ignoring their grumbling, Rin notices a little boy beckoning a fat, orange cat with a taiyaki, a fish-shaped cake filled with red bean paste.

Bleeding student: Fucking Eiichiro, man! I’ll get him for this.

Student with one less rib: You and what army, asshole?

Coughing student: Ginko-san, you gonna let him call you an asshole? Break his fucking jaw.

There wasn’t much more she could do for that guy, but finding that parrot… no, that’s a challenge for another day. Distracted by the weird shape of some guy’s chin, Rin didn’t see the two gyarus blocking her path and bounced right off them, suddenly surrounded by gyarus in gyaru prison.

Gyaru 1: Kyaaa! Rin-chan is so daring today.

Gyaru 2: You kept us waiting, ugly freak fuck. Been waiting all day to make you prettier.

Rin’s face has blood, dirt, bruises, and cuts across the cheeks.

Rin: Bitche One. Bitch Two.

Gyaru 3: Shut up. Don’t you dare move, you piece of shit.

Rin doesn’t. Not that she could. A little black box spawns in one of the gyaru’s hands as if spit by her sleeve. Lip liner, powder puff, foundation, face powder, sponges and brushes, she wastes no second switching them with each other as she works on Rin’s face with commendable focus. By the end of it, the girl that looks like a dog now also looks like an actual clown. The gyarus break into laughter like lovely hyenas, making a ruckus and taking pictures everywhere. Rin grins, because she likes people that aren’t frail. She never smiles that much.

Gyaru: 6: OMG you look so fucking stupid!!

Rin laughs like a monkey getting swallowed by a wood chipper.

Rin: It’s true.

They aren’t bad people; they are just bored. That’s what Rin thinks, that everyone would be bored in a place like this.

Kyosucker: Nevermind that.

All the girls look at Kyosuke at once. He’s sweating.

Kyosuke: Shoo shoo whores! We are all whores getting fucked now!

Gyaru 1: The fuck is wrong with you, incel virgin weirdo?

Kyosuke: No, not with me. It’s a surprise exam. A pop quiz.

The gyarus grimace as one; even they know what that means. And, again as one, as Kyosuke’s words bounce from wall to wall, Rin’s class (that should have been in class ten minutes ago) find themselves silently sucked into her orbit once again. Thing is, Rin’s class hardly ever attends lessons. It’s not because they are lazy (they are) or because they love skipping class (they do) or because they spend their time messing with the rest of the school (all the time), but because of Rin herself. Aware of what happens if you drop out of school, she had made it her life’s goal to spend as little inside that classroom as she could without getting dropped- a sentiment that, as it turns out, was shared with pretty much everyone else.

Gyaru 5: Oi so like, who the fuck has the answers? We could just write them on our arms or something?

Bleeding student: We don’t even know the questions you dumb bimbo.

Student with black eye: Hey, fuck off.

Bleeding student: She ain’t gonna suck your dick for this you know?

Back then, when Rin realized that you can’t talk if it’s loud, students at random started playing a very loud and annoying BEEEEEEP sound from their cell phone whenever a teacher talked.

When Rin realized that you couldn’t be in the classroom and somewhere else at the same time, everyone began to beat the ever living shit out of each other before the start of class so that they would end up at the nursery.

And when Rin realized just how hard it is to see through the fog, the classroom would end up inside a cloud minutes before anyone stepped into it because someone had plugged a hose to a car’s exhaust pipe.

Guy with an almost fractured cranium: You are thinking it too much. Let’s go oldschool and beat each other up.

Gyaru 4: They don’t care no more, dumbass, they said we’d all get detention if we do it again.

It’s automatic; all of the hostilities blur into the air as soon as people turn to look at Rin again. That one guy is going to end up on drugs, then as a loan shark. That girl will end up cleaning the bathroom of a neko cafe; she won’t have kids. That one bald dude, the one full of tattoos, will end up becoming a femboy and fucking a rich guy because he can’t take the pressure of a full-time job in Japan. Yet, right now, they all are looking at Rin, almost pleadingly. True hope shines in their eyes- but no one dares ask for her help.

Yet Rin nods to herself unprompted.

Rin: Right. Yes.

Some gasp. Everyone walks even closer.

Kyosuke: What? WHAT?

It’s the same fixation Rin showed back then, when she had the idea to tie a webcam to a parrot to spy on the guy that multiple people swore had Kirby tattooed on his ass- which was true.But, the parrot never came back; the reality is that Rin just wanted it to be free.

Rin: If you have food…

Patiently, the dog-looking girl ponders about it for a bit under the pressure of the gazes; yet nods once again, fully committed.

Rin: …the cat comes to you.

…Puzzled, the failed generation shares glances.

Kyosuke: So?

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The cat has been completely mummified with the pages curtly ripped from the textbook, stuck to it with duct tape. Regardless, it purrs. Kyosuke and others dig their fingertips in their heads as they shake them.

Guy with broken nose: We are so screwed.

Gyaru 1: Girl are you like for fucking real? You think I won’t beat your ass?

Like any other of Rin’s ideas, this one is, as usual, being categorized as ‘utterly retarded dogshit’. Rin herself, in the meantime, is simply distributing cat food from a package.

Rin: 200 yen.

Kyosuke: Nah bitch you ain’t. 200 yen?! For like five shitty little rocks of shit? Do you also suck my dick or what?

Rin: You want this.

He does. Biting his lower lip without subtlety, Kyosuke hands her 200 yen. So does everyone else, cursing her each time.

Guy with an almost fractured cranium: Girl, 200 yen is going too far, too far you hear me? If I don’t get out there alive I swear to motherfucking Youkai God that I’m sticking a price tag on your ass.

Rin chuckles softly, almost tenderly.

Rin: It will.

Faced with those words, any sort of derision is wiped clean from the heavy boy’s face. Class was canceled for like a week that time the teacher came in and found a living cow just walking around in the middle of the classroom. “TEACHER, I CAN’T STUDY LIKE THIS! IT MOOS TOO MUCH!” had said someone as the teacher screamed. Then that one time, one teacher was about to give them an exam and someone hijacked the cab to take him partying; he quit his job and went on a crusade to South America. And when they all said they were depressed, that their dad was beating the shit out of them and that they were too scared to tell her mom (everyone using the exact same story), they had yet another week of total freedom just because Rin had said something earlier on. So, when Rin says

“It will,”

even if it’s arrogant,
they all hang onto her words.

Red-eyed, most likely because he’s been crying of rage or joy or both, the director addresses Rin Nakamora, who still looks like a clown, from behind the wide desk. He’s a Japanese man with a fat face and a fat body, and maybe he’s grinning.

Director: You are henceforth expelled from this institution, Rin Nakamura.

Rin: Nakamora.

Whatever face he’s wearing twists into something different, but regains its shape quickly. Rin’s teacher, the mild-mannered, aged woman with glasses sitting next to the school’s director, can’t look at Rin’s eyes. Or fringe, at least.

Rin: I’m not expelled.

Director: I see, I see?? Is that so, young lady? If so, do tell me, the director of this institution, why aren’t you?

Although mockery leaks from his voice, so does sincere concern. Surviving Rin has taught him of The Bullshit, and so he hates her with the sincere passion that only toddlers are capable of.

Rin: That paper has my name on it. That doesn’t mean I wrote it.

She points at the still mummified cat, who was quietly licking its own balls.The correct answers to the test, written on the paper all over it, had been marked with markers as it continuously chased food around the room- the whole class had made it through the test with flying colors. A very interesting feat considering they attended less than a quarter of the lessons.

Yet, the director shakes his head.

Director: It doesn’t matter. It has been determined that there’s a deterministic pattern-

Rin: What’s a pattern?

Teacher: A… repetition.

Rin: Of what?

The director bares his teeth without modesty. This is the girl he sees in his nightmares.

Director: A repetition of /you/. /You/ are the common element in /many/ cases. That means that you are the cause. That means you are getting expelled from my institution.

Rin: You need proof.

It had never happened; no one had snitched on her yet. Rin knows. The director knows. He won’t try that lie again.

Director: That is the proof. I just gave it to you. You are the cause.

Rin: I could sue you.

…his face slowly devolves into more normal, human features. He shouldn’t even be considering the possibility that Rin knows of laws despite her abysmal scores, and yet he doubts. The director is neither a bad man nor is he an unfair one, but simply the result of continuous exposition to bullshit, of being denied logical and sound reasoning over and over.

Rin: I’m not expelled.

Rin stands.

Director: Sit do-

Rin leaves.

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Right outside still waits for her, as usual, Aniki’s red car. And, as usual, Rin slams the door shut too hard after she gets in.

Aniki: AAAAAA goooOOood. Would it kill you to just, be, for once, careful?!?

Rin: Sorry aniki.

Yakuzas don’t have secret hideouts full of knives, booze, and dart dart boards. Their offices are right there in the open; their presence is still noticeable in many cities. Rin had taken the trip to headquarters so often that she could get there walking from school. Aniki puts on some music. It sounds like: ‘dame dame…’.

Aniki: So, what took you?

Rin: Director tried to expel me.

Aniki: Oh. Damn. Why?

Rin: I made a cat mummy.

Eventually, the car stops. The building looks like the front to a factory. Inside, however, is a neatly organized office. Just like the men Rin fought in the morning, the yakuza of the clan are mostly old people.With the advent of the Internet, fresh blood had found new routes.

Oyabun: Oh, if it isn’t my stars and sunlight! My little Rin-chan!

The oyabun of the Hitodama Clan, a direct subsidiary of the Azuma-gumi, is an old, bald japanese man with severe vitiligo skin. Rin sees herself reflected in those thick and round black glasses.

Rin: Oyabun. I want to join.

Oyabun: Join?

Aniki: Sir, um-

The aniki bows to the boss.

Aniki: -she was almost expelled from school today. Again.

Oyabun: …oh.

He scratches his head, taken aback.

Oyabun: Gentlemen, if you would excuse me for a moment. Rin-chan.

Rin follows him to his room.

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He waves at her. Rin follows the leader of a public criminal organization to his room. The desk is bulky and made of wood, behind it is a padded black chair in which the Oyabun takes his sweet time to sit. Many frames hang from the wall, most house to black and white pictures of normal looking men- the founders and previous leaders of their ‘glorious organization’ as they call it themselves.

Oyabun: You can’t join, Rin. There’s no room for you in this world.

Rin nods. This is what she likes about the Oyabun the most: he doesn’t take her for a ride with the way he talks.

Rin: Because yakuza aren’t women.

Oyabun: No, it’s not that. Not only that.

He’s looking at the pictures on the walls. Often, the Japanese would idolize the yakuza as the modern samurai, as fabled heroes who fight for the weak and poor.

Oyabun: We strayed. We got greedy and forgot our place. We got into the stock market, in real estate, in politics, in all that stuff about numbers and statistics. Back then, some of us knew our place. It was the shadow of the law, it was the streets at night, it was punching idiots who took advantage of legal loopholes to screw over their neighbor. We covered the holes, but then we tried to cover it all. We built a place for the rejects and exiles that weren’t born foxes but dogs. Then we ruined it.

From a nameless black bottle, the oyabun serves himself some liquid in a flat cup called sakazuki. It’s sake.

Oyabun: This world is dying, Rin. The five-year yakuza clause won’t let anyone leave, either. So don’t get expelled from school.

Rin just shrugs.

Rin: Nothing in it for me, oyabun. I either work a 12 hour shift in an office or suck a big fat dick so I can wash dishes. I can’t even sit still at my desk.

The oyabun visibly deflates, but he doesn’t seem angry at all.

Rin: What will happen when my luck runs out, Oyabun?

Oyabun: Nothing. It never will. I can make something happen.

Rin: I don’t want money I didn’t earn.

The man smiles to himself. So far, he hasn't managed to get Rin to ask anything from him other than the cheap ramen they share when he has time.

Oyabun: I know. You just want to have fun. I’ll think something up. You’ll see.

He waves for Rin to leave the room, who this time doesn’t forget to bow before she does- who, for the first time in many years, realizes that she’s genuinely sad.

From the very bottom of her heart, Rin Nakamura is just a girl who wants to have fun

who wants everyone to have fun.


>(To be continued!)

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radio silence for like three days and then the nigga drops a 13 post novella. good news, though: if i keep up the pace we may just make it to the weekend yet and run like normal decent human beings with actual choices dices and shit. i plan on going for short posts after this, but desu im enjoying making introductions as through as these. wutchu guys think? is it overkill?

Rin-chan's the master of bullshit, huh
Wonder if that string of miraculous luck somehow manages to continue or not
Didn't see the yakuza tie-in incoming, unsure if I buy the hidden altruism of her wanting everyone to have fun based off her actions, but we'll see where she heads from here on her character arc

>>6041148
I dunno if I have any authority to speak given that this is someone else's introduction, but I find them entertaining enough thus far, and if you enjoy it then it should be fine
I may or may not be getting withdrawal symptoms from binging five threads then trying to return to a normal schedule of not pumping words into my brain every second of the day, but that's my fault lol
If you feel like you're forcing length to match up to some standard, you shouldn't have to, and if you're reining yourself in, then you should only rein yourself in so that you can cut the excess fat off the story you want to tell and make it clearer/more poignant for the reader
Basically, well actually I don't really know what I basically want to say, but ganbare Lumina-san

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>>6039124
yknow what, fuck it, lets try something different; you are getting the classic introduction.

ask for a wish. no context, whatever you want; just like the unholy sextet

the idea was to give akiko and rin a context to make wishing make sense, but the niggucas loved owning their characters fully so lets try that once more

marie will start being a magical girl

>then you should only rein yourself in so that you can cut the excess fat off the story you want to tell and make it clearer/more poignant for the reader
while i think this is a good point, the thing is that, while i feel like im writing what i want, i also suddenly feel like threading on holy ground by defining our gucas too much right off the bat (even if the wish is going to turn them upside down). so; we'll try going back to the roots to see the difference

>>6041373
That's actually a good point I didn't think about, probably because I got used to being a passive reader during my archive days
Doing it that way and starting in media res definitely gives the player more control over their character, like how you thought Erika was going to be a bookworm but became the mad scientist, and by leaving the background vaguer, you get more of a sense of what the player thinks their character is like through their actions and can write/adjust accordingly (and pretend you planned it all along)
It's kinda like the difference between the Helen start and the first five nigguca start, Helen(a) started with a whole bunch of backstory posts meaning she was defined from the outset, while the first five just started with a situation and their actions effectively chargenned for them (Jimena chose to jump out the window rather than talk to her dad, giving you the sense that she's pretty rambunctious, Emma tried to juggle math homework and breakfast for everyone at the same time which fits her character even more now in retrospect, Rita's first action was to fucking throw the suitcase of money across the room and make fun of Marco Aurelio, Lucinda's was petting the dog, and Erika's was to begrudgingly help out randomfemalename and create the school tradition under the rain). Honestly all of their first actions were pretty pivotal in definin their characters, sorry for peeling back the magic

>>6041373
I'm phoneposting

Assuming Marie is just being approached by Kyubey, she's at a low point in her life so...
She would want to do what she likes (Breaking, Entering, Reconstructing) without hurting or angering others. But that's more of a behavioural problem that a wish won't solve (she thinks. Or is she just using that as an excuse to not solve that problem- no time for introspection now!). And so she would probably make a wish that allows her to do what she likes at a higher level. People like people with skills, right?

>I wish to be able to analyse anything I find. So that I can deconstruct, trespass, and reconstruct any system I see.

>>6041148
On this:
I believe that Consistency is the best thing to go for. Burn-out is the great killer of quests, and inconsistency can lead to it. You should go at a pace where you are sure you can get an update out at or before a certain time. If that pace happens to involve Mega-Posts every 3-4 days then so be it. Frankly, I'm fine with waiting as long as you don't leave.
You are completely correct about the whole "Defining our gucas" thing. Part of the fun of these kinds of quests is seeing how characters develop and what difficult choices they make. Collaborative Storytelling makes the experience exhilarating.

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>>6041398
>Doing it that way and starting in media res definitely gives the player more control over their character, like how you thought Erika was going to be a bookworm but became the mad scientist, and by leaving the background vaguer, you get more of a sense of what the player thinks their character is like through their actions and can write/adjust accordingly

>>6041488
>You are completely correct about the whole "Defining our gucas" thing. Part of the fun of these kinds of quests is seeing how characters develop and what difficult choices they make. Collaborative Storytelling makes the experience exhilarating.

you know: this is exactly what I was thinking while I was working on rin and akiko. something was missing, and it was that. the new idea was to set up a context to give the wish some direction, but, in the end I think I figured out that it's the wish itself that gave the direction all along

so

i have a proposition for both rinanon and akiko anon. reroll. use the old template. besides Name, Appareance, and Quirks. add Wish. the reality is that by this point rin and akiko are both girls of mine, and i think that a great part of the charm of thread 1 was, to my dismay, just how much of a fucking mess that chargen was- so i propose let's do it again. we barely just getting started and i had like 6 months of rust to shake off anyway, so thankfully no harm done yet

>>6041488
>I wish to be able to analyse anything I find. So that I can deconstruct, trespass, and reconstruct any system I see.
ill have to go ahead and tell you what the cat would say: wishes that abstract have unpredictable side effects. if you still wanna make it, you are good to go

>>6041507

>"Wha- Too abstract?! I don't accept that, but I will accept any consequences of this Wish. I may be a habitual trespasser and intruder, but I don't escape the consequences of my actions."
>"Do your magic, you White Cat-Fox-Chimera!"
>I'm keeping my Wish. Megucas always make wishes without necessarily thinking of the consequences all the time, and I won't break that trend.

>>6041507
On a short break right now so can't give my usual (unnecessary) commentary on stuff but I'll submit things so you got time to ruminate on it, feel free to pick and choose whatever works
Same name appearance and quirks as earlier >>6031882 obviously, did you want that mess of stats too?

>Wish
If the cat introduces it in the same way he does to Wakoko and explains that Witches are dangerous natural disasters
"...If these Witches are so dangerous, why hasn't anyone just wished for there to be no more Witches?"
Depending on whatever answer the cat gives the following wish might change, but
"...Without just changing my mindset or how I think or whatever, I... I wish my life will mean something in the end."
If the cat understandably asks what exactly she means by that, she'll get flustered and say "Y-you know, like how we say everything has a reason, or there's a purpose to life? I want my life to have meant something, so that... I dunno..."
Also obviously even though she's super serious during this chat with the devil, that's just because for some reason she feels like she has to be for this one/it feels life-changing/she's alone so she can be a bit more honest
Pretty much the rest of the time she's laughing/grinning ("heh heh hehh") and being the classic Akiko she always is
Curious what the fuck you'll do with this one

>>6041527
so
be
it

if only helenanon was here

>>6041586
my fellow ashen tarnished cursed one african american, what i meant was that i'm giving you the chance to reroll, to make a new character from scratch- one you own completely. thing is, i figured out setting the context for a wish makes the character mine and not yours, so i'm offering you the same route that the unholy sextit and now Marie took

that being said, there's also the choice to stick by akiko's side. at this point she's already her own monster even if you gave her the soul, but you could still try to shape her like with any other classic quest mc exactly like you are doing with that post

as for the wish, although it would still be early, i'll keep it in mind of you stick with her

aaaaaaa i want rinanon to come so we can get shit started already, its been like two weeeks

>>6041586
It seems that abstract Wishes with far-reaching consequences that weren't thought through are the theme with this team.
Oh, who am I kidding, that's the theme with nearly every meguca.

>>6041617
Awww shit nigguca, if you're giving me this much wish power we got a ton of options, from
"I wish I were the Prime Minister of Japan"
to "I wish everyone was a good person"
to "I wish 1+1 equaled 3"
to "I wish there were two moons around Earth"
to "I wish the industrial revolution and its effects weren't disastrous for the human race"
and I'm still curious about what the outcome of the "I wish to be a boy" wish would be though I wouldn't personally choose that for my guca

And on top of that I still kinda like Akiko too and don't know if I want to stick with her or not

I'll decide when I get home

>>6041617
I am here.

>>6041756
rinanon, wutchugonna do then? cmon i wanna post gucas

>>6041809
I'm sticking with the background OP has written.
On the rest, I have no strong opinions.
I can make a wish now based on the existing context, or if OP wants something else we can do that.

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>>6041828
then rin is yours. desu i feel kinda bad giving so much of myself to them, but from now on i have no veto in their background beyond what was already stated. for example, only you know which kind of chocolate rin likes- or her favorite bone to punch

i'll wait for akikanon to choose and go from there then, starting with all at once. i'll try to start this up like i started the first thread a year and a half ago to keep up with tradition, so there will be little dialogue, many small posts, and no more planning whatsoever

look forward to it

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>>6041855
Alright sorry I'm here
I can't decide whether I want to stick with Akiko or not, but being indecisive is a bitch move, so since I accidentally hyped myself up by coming up with outrageous wish ideas, I guess I'll make a new character? (I do like Akiko though, and white hair would've been a great addition to the cast, maybe we'll see her around somewhere as an NPC)
Also sorry Marie, this wish isn't gonna be abstract at all, but I gotta see what happens

>Name
Miharu Fukugawa
>Appearance
Pic related, but she also has a pair of sunglasses and a detective hat for when she gets excited
>Quirks
Wants life to be like her favorite stories, with satisfying character arcs and interesting plot threads (as opposed to the anticlimactic mess it usually is). Thinks life and the world is simple and easy to understand, may be right. Usually hard-headed in her beliefs, but can flip on a dime if she thinks the opposite side has a good argument (rare). Likes looking into problems and trying to solve them, usually not half-bad at it despite seeming immature. Acts arrogant "Heh, so you've come to the great Miharu for help," and may be a little chuuni, but is actually helpful
>Wish
"I wish the Earth had two moons!"
Would have wished for there to be a satisfying arc for every life, but thinks unearned endings are cheating, and also she just likes the aesthetic of two moons

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>>6041911
jesus
fucking
christ
that's one motherfucking wish aaaaaaaaaaaa

btw i fucking love her already

OK THEN, we've got the whole weekend to run, no more planning, no more structuring, we get into the shit >votes and the Rolled 1 = 1 (1d1000 ) tomorrow. niggucas are rin, miharu, and marie-antoinette. gnite!

also i really like the wish too

it's kicking my fucking ass

but it is creative

>>6041941
>>6041943
Glad I could be of service :P

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>>6041911
Holy shit yes Rita would be best goddamn friends with this bitch. Excellent wish, anon!

>>6041911
Oh my goodness. It may not be abstract, but it is absolutely ridiculous which gives you more points.
Also... is Miharu a fan of Star Wars' Original Trilogy?

>captcha: KYSD
Gee, thanks

we are here. we are writing. we do not forget. expect us. nigger

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It is eight in the morning of a Saturday. It's cloudy and windy, but the sun still pierces through to bring its warmth about

and welcome to Meguca Royale.

--Day 1--

Ӝ Miharu Fukugawa Ӝ

When she wakes up, Miharu Fukugawa's hair looks as if it was shaken by an earthquake, then washed up by a tsunami, then fire had rained on it. Cursing with gentle words because headaches shouldn't exist, she reaches for the executive bunny clock to turn off the alarm only to be bitten by her cat and let out a girly scream.

That certainly woke her up.

Brushing her teeth, still in her pajamas, she asks the Miharu across the mirror how she's doing. Do you like how the pop-up book is turning out? Are you still mad about those kids kicking that frog? Is being a Magical Girl too tiresome? Then she answers, and both sides end up happy.

Coming down the stairs, Miharu is still waiting for the new moon.

Anytime soon.

Even though it's eight in the morning, her two dads are already bickering about. One is white, the other black, one is the day, and the other the night. Not really, though; but Miharu loves pissing them off by making that comparison. Even when it doesn't make sense. Especially when it doesn't make sense.

From what she's hearing from the dad that cooks, the thing is as follows: the taco stand they manage gets a lot of costumers during the weekends, but the dad that drives says that they should take a break because they busted their ass all week.

>Hmm... what to do!

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๑ Marie-Antoinette Desire ๑

Nigger; lately, that's all everyone at school calls her. Not out of ill intent, at least, she knows this to heart because even his best friend (who is pretty much an angel) fell to the fad. Some idiot used Google wrong and thought that was the right word for 'black people', and then everybody tried to surprise her, to make her feel 'included' as if she wasn't already. Even right after waking up in her American-sized bed, Marie can't escape thinking about it. They were just trying to be nice to her, and yet she got very mad about that.

It can't be helped. After all, her magical powers are still going haywire.

Walking out of her room, a tall, bulky black man already dressed like a policeman asks if can a nigga get a hug, to which she obliges after scoffing a bit. The man works even weekends; he deserves at least this much.

As her mother and three sisters flock into the kitchen, as the usual lovely mess of a saturday's morning kicks in, Marie can't help but worry from the very depths of her heart. She had passed out three times already after using her power, and each time she never felt the same as before. But today is a free day, and the world is a big place, and she's widely awake.

>What to do with this rainy-ass day?

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Rin Nakamora

Cock; still sleeping, still dreaming, Rin Nakamora still cackles at the word. She had been laughing all day yesterday, and she was even laughing the day before that; there's something about English words that gives them too much power.

When she wakes up in her wreck of a room, Rin is not alone. She's greeted by an otherworldly presence as she stands, an elegant woman with long, white hair that's wearing the magical equivalent of a men's business suit. Who slyly tells Rin that she has been saying 'cock' and laughing over and over during her sleep.

Our of sheer innocent curiosity, Rin punches her in the face, so hard that the mystery agent is knocked flat into the ground.

After she stands, after she fixes that tie that look like a piece of galaxy, the mysterious woman comments that she won't smack Rin back because her head would be sent flying and bouncing like a fucking basketball. She looks pissed. Rin tell the 'bitch' to try, cause that, of course, would be awesome.

Taking a seat on Rin's pile of unwashed shirts and panties, the woman makes the effort of acting all slyly again and asks the delinquent if there's something she would really want to happen, something she'd be willing to sell her soul for. Rin thinks; not too much because it hurts.

Yesterday, one of the boys willingly took the fall for her and got expelled; the director had finally snapped and gone corrupt, going as far as to plant evidence to get at her. The loyalty of her classmates had proven solid, but it was taking a toll on them.

The day before, the oyabun had been summoned to court; back at headquarters, the anikis were all grabbing their heads silence because of the yakuza five-year clause. Even if oyabun's clan was hardcore about going the old yakuza way, about fighting drugs and slavery, they were still taking the fall.

And last but not least, she still couldn't find that parrot. It's not like it's a big deal and at worst she'll have to pay for it. Nevermind, fuck that parrot, Rin can't fly with her asscheeks.

When she looks back up, the woman's hair is now black. Awesome. And then the magical woman, whose face is bleeding, tells Rin that she can make any wish of hers come true. Cool.

In exchange of becoming a Magical Girl.

...

The woman, who introduces herself as Dolores Smith, explains Rin that, in exchange for her wish, her soul will be encased in a Soul Gem. That she will be duty-bound to fight Witches. That her Soul Gem will grow dark, and that only killing Witches will cleanse it. That she will eventually become a Witch herself, and that all of the Witches she'll have to defeat were, at some point, Magical Girls as well.

Rin laughs at all this bullshit and goes back to bed

until someone drags her by the leg like she was a rag.

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Being princess-carried over buildings ain't so bad. As the wind caresses the dark fringe over her eyes, Rin soon finds herself laughing giddily like a walrus on cocaine. But eventually she isn't bouncing off buildings anymore, there aren't clouds in the sky, the air feels weird, light flashes all over everywhere, and where the floor would be there's only towers of cameras coming from the white fog below- which is awesome.

Then she sees it from afar; and when Rin sees it, she doesn't have enough words to describe it. A bucket- a transparent bucket, with with what look like fishes in it, being held by a massive, single broken arm that's rooted in a tower of cameras, flailing wildly as it tries to catch a blitzing, darting light that's bouncing all over the place.

...

When it's all said and done, Dolores drops Rin at the top of a very tall building. The world is the world again. There's a floor, and it's boring.

That, the suit tells the delinquent, was a Witch; what was fighting her was a Magical Girl. And with a grave voice she says: they don't always win.

Is there a wish that would be worth this life?

>Is there?

>>6041969
One day, it'll be time for the disastrous duo to take the stage and solve every problem in the world! ...As soon as we scrounge up enough money for airplane tickets, find out if we even have passports, and figure out whether anyone will even make it out alive by the end of this

>>6042145
I see Miharu as more of an avid manga reader as opposed to anything else, and besides, that's an old man show! A New Hope came out 47 years ago

>>6042487
A white man and a black man taking care of a Japanese girl by jointly running a taco truck of all things in Osaka? Maybe that extra moon wish changed more than just the lunar cycles lol

>Miharu sighed. She thought becoming a magical girl would make everything more exciting, but there were still the same old boring dilemmas as always. Money, work, blah blah blah. This problem wouldn't even be interesting enough to show up in a filler arc! Where was the orphan with the tortured past, learning that the world could be beautiful? Where were the shadows haunting the streets, waiting for a hero to arrive? Where was her mysterious masked mentor??? At the very least, the new moon would make everything a little more magical at night... whenever it showed up...
>However... fu fu fu. If she couldn't solve a problem like this in five seconds, she wouldn't be the great Miharu!
"If you really did work hard all week, then that means you had to have already had a lot of customers this past week! That means you don't have to work this weekend! Unless you want to make more money or something I guess, bye!"
>With that, she runs out the door, eager to see if anyone was talking about a new moon suddenly appearing on the other side of the world! If that cat lied to her when it said it would grant any wish she had, it would have a thing or two coming!

>>6042569
Stretching as she levers herself upright, Rin turns her head to the sky.
The high-altitude winds tussle her fringe momentarily uncovering a Byzantine Blue mirror wildly sparking with excitement.
There is one wish she can think of that would be worth the price.
One wish where she could inflict fun on herself and others effectively forever.
When she speaks next her voice rings out over the gusts howling around the tower in a loud, firm monotone.
> I wish to be disparity. Such that all instances of disparity, both literal and conceptual, are me and vice versa.

>>6042638
im gonna have to level with you, rinanon: rin doesn't even know what 'conceptual' means. she's 'profoundly dense'. you are gonna have to word it like an idiot would say it
also that description was awesome, i finally have an idea of how her eyes look like

>>6042625
>that spoiler
i forbid you to say that again in this thread. it hurts

>A white man and a black man taking care of a Japanese girl by jointly running a taco truck of all things in Osaka?
must be magic or some shit

>She thought becoming a magical girl would make everything more exciting, but there were still the same old boring dilemmas as always. Money, work, blah blah blah.
fuck man, becoming an adult is just like going guca

>With that, she runs out the door, eager to see if anyone was talking about a new moon suddenly appearing on the other side of the world!
info gathering, then! lets hit some folks up

waitin a bit on marie, but shit is oonnnnnnn

>>6042645
Fair.
> I want to be disparity - every disparity that exists, whether you can touch them or not, will be me and I them.
Better?

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Ӝ:
>Let's see if anyone is talking about a new moon suddenly appearing out of nowhere!

A new moon: it will be as if the night had eyes! Eyes that will be watching over many fun stories. All of the good sci-fi stories have two moons, and all of the people in them live life as it should be lived: by taking risks, by caring, by being good or evil- but being something. Every day under two moons will be a new adventure- and then the characters in this story will finally stop caring so much about money.

...that it, when the moon comes, because it's not on TV, it's not on the newspapers, the internet isn't talking shit about it, and the guy who sells cabbage doesn't know.

But Miharu doesn't let that get her down. Great stories are about pushing through adversity: every good story has conflict!

A new moon... how should it even be called? And does that mean that the old moon gets a new name too? How will we call it from now on?

...

If only that nee-san Dolores was a bit easier to find. She'd know; she'd know for sure!

Because Miharu had already asked the milkman, the barker of that weird bar, the cute shopkeeper, her dog, the dude at the convenience store who seems soulless, that super strong guy at the gym, the yakuza who is always smoking- and someone else

but nobody knows.

>Well- maybe tomorrow! Who knows? It's coming, that's for sure. But, today is still a free day. Big world! If a bit dull.

>>6042650
rinanon, /I/ don't know what disparity is. what's the point of the wish?

>>6042669
> Disparity
The difference in {something} between two or more [things].
For example, there is a difference in {temperature} between a [lit campfire] and your core [body temperature].
> What's the point of the wish?
The disparities between things defines them.
In the absolute absence of disparity everything collapses into a stagnant, maximally uniform state.
To Rin this state sounds very boring, and if boredom is the absence of fun, then disparity must be fun.
So by becoming disparity, Rin becomes fun and provides fun for others.
With all that said, the wish is incredibly stupid - which is half the point.
The idea of the difference between things may randomly be replaced by an anime girl is completely absurd.
Its a monkey's paw that can curl several different ways, and almost all of them are catastrophically dangerous.

I am willing to choose a simpler wish if this is too unwieldy or high-concept.

>>6042736
im kinda surprising that rin would choose something so complex, or even know such a complex word. cause i mean:

Dense: slow to learn or understand; lacking intellectual acuity. “So dense he never understands anything I say to him”.
Synonyms: dim, dull, dumb, obtuse, slow stupid. lacking or marked by lack of intellectual acuity.

at this point it'd be safe to say she wouldn't know neither the word, nor the concept, and maybe not even what a contrast is. you seem like a very smart anon from which i could learn a lot int stat stuff, so i think you'd be veeeery limited by what would make sense for rin to do going forward considering the abysmal gap in intellect

if you want to, reroll. i don't mind making another char. i expected this thread to be slow anyway because i'd rather suffer structure than rush along like the first time and be met with the same kind of burnout that i can't afford anymore. so think about it. and if you still wanna keep going, i'll have to warn you about rin's unique trait which may be a dealbreaker for you: the more simple her plans are, the higher she rolls

>>6042523
I was asleep. It's currently 4:30 A.M Here.
And I'm phoneposting again, fuck.

Headaches and passing out hurts, sure, but she said herself to that white monster that she doesn't "Escape the consequences of her actions".
With that said, she might as well combine her favourite thing with magic. "That's what the Wish was for, right? You dense nigga?" Marie says to herself. It also helps as a distraction from people calling her that with a hard R.

>First: Get a notebook, laptop, anything to write or type on. Then write down my previous experiences of passing out. What was I even trying to do those times? And sure each time felt different, but how did they feel individually?
>Go to a lock located inside the house and focus my power on it. If I gain information about the lock from the "Analysis" part of my wish then compare it to the information on it I had before. Is there more information? Less? In what way does it present itself?
>...In fact, do my own powers count as a system for the purposes of my powers? Alright, I am not high enough for that. That comes later.
>If the lock breaks apart then try to fix it, magic powers or not. My family probably already know about my... interests. But I don't want to hurt them with it.
>Hm? Why am I breaking into my own house? The lock is small, I've probably taken it apart more times than I can count to the point where people are expecting me to just fix it after, and it's something I already know about. The fact that it's a small thing I know about is the most important part, maybe I tried to use my powers on a too complex system and passed out from information overload?

"Passing out is really not good." Marie thinks, for completely selfless reasons. "I shouldn't make my family worry. And if I'm going to have to fight 'Witches' as a 'Magical Girl', I need to do that without fainting. I don't think anyone is going to get me out of that situation."

>>6042667
Oi where the actual fuck is my wish, fucking cat gypped me what the hell Also lmao I just remembered that there's supposed to be a veil over magic shenanigans, fuck that shit, my wish will rip it to shreds
That philosophy that everyone should live life as it should be lived by being something is perfection
Also sorry, I spent some time with my grandma

Hmm, the dull scientists will probably get to be the ones to decide what the new moon is called, but still... it could be fun to think of some! Maybe she could even make cool names for her magical girl special attacks based on them! Luna... Selene... Artemis... Lunar Slash... she'll have to decide later

She hasn't transformed yet, and she feels tempted to try, but... she knows that she's only supposed to do that when all seems lost in this first act! Transforming now would be super anticlimactic, especially if she was just doing it to make things less boring or make sure last night wasn't a dream...

>Miharu uses what little restraint she has to hold back the urge to transform to see what happens...
>Hmmmm, what to do, what to do... only boring protagonists are the passive ones that let things happen to them, she needs to be active and pursue some kind of goal! She's a magical girl now, after all- it's a classic set-up for a riveting tale, but she needs to be able to play the part!
>But first, before we start, let's go find a gachapon machine, put a few coins in, and see what plush comes out! Whatever she gets, she's sure it'll turn out to be important later down the line as some kind of symbol or a callback, and those kinds of things only happen if you purposefully set it up in the first place!

>>6042761
Hm. You make a reasonable point.
Though I'd sooner choose a different wish than recreate an entire character.
Perhaps something more straightforward.
Worries were expressed over what would happen if Rin's luck ran out, so perhaps a more suitable wish would be:
> I wish that the wheel of fortune only ever turns in my favor.
or...
> I wish that, no matter what I do, I always gain more luck than I use.

>>6042771
๑:
>Do shit.

Even rainy-ass days have their uses, and thankfully it's not raining yet. A dense nigga she may be, but not a quiet dense nigga, neither a boring dense nigga. She made the wish. She got in shit. She's getting something out of this shit alright.

>First: Get a notebook, laptop, anything to write or type on. Then write down my previous experiences of passing out. What was I even trying to do those times? And sure each time felt different, but how did they feel individually?

The safest way to know why shit happens is to nail the pattern; dad came home late eleven times and the eleven times he smelled like roses. There's got to something else that happened the three times her power took her lights out.

"ATTEMPT 1: unlocking Dad's drawer to get some money.
-Seen some weird shit.
-Got knocked out.

ATTEMPT 2: unlocking Dad's door when he left to attempt to unlock the drawer again.
-Seen some weird shit.
-Got knocked out.

ATTEMPT 3: got stuck outside because fucking Margaret took my damn keys cause she's lazy. tried to use power on lock
-Seen some weird shit.
-Got knocked out.
-Dad saw and he took me to the doctor."

Marie finds that the similarity couldn't have been more obvious: her dad. All three times it was something related to her Dad. In conclusion: either my power is to die on command or my dad punched me in the head from behind all three times.

Nah, nigga, she thinks. That ain't it.

>Go to a lock located inside the house and focus my power on it. If I gain information about the lock from the "Analysis" part of my wish then compare it to the information on it I had before. Is there more information? Less? In what way does it present itself?
Hesitation feeds on Marie regardless as she, this time, settles for the lock to her own room. There won't be much to gain from breaking her own lock, but if that woman wasn't fucking with her then she should be able to rebuild it comes to it. Trembling a bit, awareness of the fact that she's fucked anyway is quick to dawn on her. Focusing on her lock, Marie uses her unique magic: Analysis.

...

...

...

...

This time, she woke up in bed, at least- but surrounded from all sides by a very worried looking family. When Marie sees her mother, the hard working woman breathes a sigh of relief, touching her chest, as her sisters just greet her awkwardly- and her dad just stares. The obvious questions come out: have you been doing drugs, did you drink anything strange, how long has this been happening, etc. The problem is that repeating 'i'm fine' over and over isn't a good strategy for the long run, and just standing up and leaving doesn't seem to have done Marie family any favors either.

...fuck. If only they knew.

Marie has a lifelong habit, a hobby, or perhaps even an addiction, of breaking into places people wouldn't want her to be- for many reasons she's still learning. One is that people lie a lot, that people hide their secrets- and that thankfully enough for her, some of those secrets can't remain in their head. There is true wisdom, Marie knows to heart, to seeing things others hide, to threading forbidden ground. One of his classmates had a collection of dolls in his room, one of her kind teachers had leather clothes and collars to spare; that weird guy who talks like shit was keeping a zoo of exotic animals. The truth hides; threading where it hides is an addiction.

>...In fact, do my own powers count as a system for the purposes of my powers? Alright, I am not high enough for that. That comes later.
After convincing her mom that, yes, she's hitting the doctor later, and that no, she doesn't need drive her, Marie opts for making herself some tea. It's what she does when she has to think: fill herself with sugar. The topics are how to keep her family off her back- especially now that their fears just got worse, and how her damn powers work. It's puzzling: she took her time to make her wish being /very/ explicit. She sips the tea, adds more sugar as she sits at the bar where she and her sisters have breakfast.

"I wish to be able to analyse anything I find. So that I can deconstruct, trespass, and reconstruct any system I see."

It should be simple, Marie thinks: get all the information I need on shit and then use said information to do with shit as as I please. Doors, cells, walls, even niggas; nothing should get in her way, and yet she's still where she started.

Thinking back on it, she thankfully remembers Dolores's words accurately.

"Abstract wishes are dangerous; the more abstract, the more that can go wrong with them. If your parents died in a fire and your wish was worded such as: 'I want you to make it so that what just happened never happened' then you would just forget how they died. Generalization is always dangerous- not only in wishes."

She had also said something more along the lines of having a power granted by a wish as a consequence vs asking for one directly, but at this point Marie is too pissed to think about it. She was scammed; end of story.

And she still has to kill motherfucking Witches.

>At least there's still some sun out there...

>>6042811
if you wanna walk this path, then pick one of those yourself. desu im already kinda worried cause you seem very different from rin herself, but maybe you'll have fun playing someone that's a lot dumber than you so there's that! it /will/ be a challenge for you, that's for sure
give it some thought

lets see if i can spit one more at least. writing straight on the 4chan little box makes things faster, but i have to compromise on quality and orthography

>>6042794
>Also sorry, I spent some time with my grandma
never be sorry for this. spending time with your grandma is the manliest shit

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Ӝ:
>Miharu uses what little restraint she has to hold back the urge to transform to see what happens...
No. Not yet. Not in the middle of the street- and not before one of her friends is in grave danger! Well, that could take a while; Miharu doesn't have that many friends, really. She's a very social and helpful, and gives the best advice ever when her classmates ask for it- but her classmates don't often ask for it. They like taking pictures. Like, a lot of pictures. Of things... like food.

Not. It /will/ be climatic! Even if the desperation to see how her magical form looks like is slowly chewing her out.

>Hmmmm, what to do, what to do... only boring protagonists are the passive ones that let things happen to them, she needs to be active and pursue some kind of goal!
The moon will come when it comes- which is tomorrow, of course!- but Miharu won't just stand and wait for it. Especially because lady Dolores told her it's hard to tell the way a wish will be granted... or how long it will take... or if it was going to happen anyway... aaaaaah! The passersby glance at the girl clawing her head, who is absolutely sure that the moon will be here tomorrow.

Bur first things first:
the hero needs a goal!
The princess will storm the castle to save the knight from the dragon.

>But first, before we start, let's go find a gachapon machine, put a few coins in, and see what plush comes out!
For things, to happen, things have to happen; it may seem simple, but it's not. Anything can be the trigger that sets in motion your happy ending, and even spilling all that oil on dad that drives yesterday will lead to saving a toddler from a car. And then to being thanked by her brother. And then to dating said brother. And then to realizing that said brother has a dark past with the underworld and that only you can help break him free. Oh, but then he dies sacrificing himself for you. And that's when he says: i'm free now, because saving your life has redeemed himself and therefore freed him from his guilt. But now he's dead.

Miharu is already crying when she's about to put the coin in the gachapon machine. She hesitates: but she'd rather that man live a single moment of light than a life in darkness! And so the coin goes in.

...clicklicki...

Miharu can't help herself from looking at the transparent storage pool, trying to figure out already which of the balls is going to come out. When she puts the coin and flicks the tiny level, she's presented with the little show of that ball going down an elaborate set of tunnels, playing little sounds whenever it hits a certain checkpoint. It ends; Miharu grabs the ball from the mouth of the gashapon machine. She opens it; from it, it's like the tiny Charizard is greeting her.

???: Oi.

Yes!! Before even looking, Miharu is already glad to have set things in motion somehow. But... what her eyes find is a very peculiar character, enticing character: a man nothing but a snakeskin blazer on his naked torso.

The fact that he approached her, looking like that, in such a crowded area; it's raising more than a few eyebrows alright. Miharu can't help herself furrowing the brow a bit at the presence.

Snakeskin Blazer Yakuza: Sorry for the interruption, young lady.

He bows. A lot. So formal; it leaves Miharu's mouth gaping.

???: That's the Charlizard, right? Got a boy that loves those stupid things. How about we trade, eh?

Miharu... still feels defensive, but not so much. Before, when she wasn't a Magical Girl, she'd have all of the right reasons to be afraid- but now? Muhuhuhu, you shouldn't try things on the great Miharu! Why would the wakuza want a little toy? Is it a super expensive super rare edition-

or is something else going on???

>A Yakuza wants to buy your newly-acquired little Charizard. It's quite the coincidence, is it? What to do?

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6042861
I'll be fine.
Anyway, going to leave my decision to chance. Seems fittingly ironic.

> 1) I wish that the wheel of fortune only ever turns in my favor.
> 2) I wish that, no matter what I do, I always gain more luck than I use.

>>6042897
so be it

this is the hour i go to sleep. i hope it was enough postin at least for today

>>6042861
Grandmas just keep winning

>>6042876
...ahh, I see what's going on here. Should have guessed from Dolores' description... I seem to recall that the cats try to fulfill the spirit of the wish to the best of their ability, so if this bitch pulls some technicality like "welllll the Earth HAD two moons at some point just not anymore" I'm gonna hunt her the fuck down myself and avenge Miharu's wish
Also immensely based romance plot, Miharu

>>6042880
This guy...
>Miharu looks rapidly between the tiny dragon in her hands and the large strange man. Hmm... either this cute plush will be important and she'll be dealing with dragon kings in the near future, or it's meant to be the bridge between her and whatever this man is offering...
>"Trade for what, pal?" Miharu puts on a cool yakuza tone to her words (or tries to, at the very least, yakuza was never really one of her interests). "If it's just money, I could find those slips of paper anywhere!"

>>6042856

God, Marie really does not want to make her parents worry too much.
...Wait, she's going to have to make everyone worry when she starts hunting Witches. Shit.
Dolores must be a woman of her word, or else.

>Try to recall what that Weird Shit I saw was, or at least looked like. It's the only common point apart from my Dad. And my dad wouldn't hurt me, right?
>Try to open my own lock completely regularly (by that, I mean with lockpicks) with no magic. The excuse I'm making is practice (to make sure these powers won't accidentally pop-off), but I'm really doing this to calm down and try not to hurl from recalling the Weird Shit
>Make a reminder in the notebook to go to the doctor later. Fainting four times in a row cannot be healthy, magically induced or not.

All newbie Magical Girls have to deal with some... performance issues at the start right? Just do what you're good at, and eventually the magic will come naturally as an extension of your experience, right? I mean, you can't create an entirely new Moon out of nothing without some training for example!

Ӝ:
>Miharu looks rapidly between the tiny dragon in her hands and the large strange man.
One way or the other, this plushie is important; it's a plot device. To what? To life, of course! To actual life, like the ones that live the characters in her mangas.

Ӝ Miharu: Trade for what, pal, eeh?!

That kansai dialect may have come out a lil bit too great- cause the man, the yakuza, the guy who kicks people in the shin for a living, is recoiling and going 'shhh shhh!!'. Then again, this is a /very/ public space, and he is talking to a little girl. Suspicious!

Snakeskin Blazer Yakuza: LOOK, just...

Ӝ Miharu: If it's just money, I could find those slips of paper anywhere eh! Eh!

Snakeskin Blazer Yakuza: -huh? You don't want money?

No. Miharu doesn't want money.; it's the most boring thing ever. It's what's got Dad & Dad stuck in that van everyday making tacos instead of slaying dragons, and now making tacos is all that they know! Granted, those are great and sell like bread; Japanese food, healthy as it is, is too tame. But... there isn't much worth telling about a day spent making tacos.

Snakeskin Blazer Yakuza: Eeeeh... kid, I don't know about that. I'm not slaying dragons either.

He scratches his head, shooting glances around almost sheepishly. Oh wait, she said all that out loud.

Snakeskin Blazer Yakuza: But, like, you can buy a sword with money. To kill dragons. If that's your thing.

Ӝ Miharu: But I want the sword!

Snakeskin Blazer Yakuza: I'll give you the money and you buy the sword, deal? C'mon, I'm looking weird out here.

Miharu HMMS. Yes, you /can/ buy swords with money- or whatever other literary device you'll need to kill whatever your dragon may represent, but... Is there a 'but' in this? Isn't this just going to be a normal trade, then?

Maybe that's the problem. That we still only have one moon.

>What do, what do? Who's the dragon, where's the sword?

๑:
>Try to recall what that Weird Shit I saw was, or at least looked like.
For someone who lives to trespass on sacred ground, being stuck like this is nothing short of torture. Things should be happening already, she should be using her power to get into Area 51 and steal some aliens- but no, nothing is happening. It's NOT fair- but what is, anyway. Still lounging around the kitchen restlessly, as the empty tea cup still lingers on her hand, Marie does an honest effort to at least remember anything of what happens before she passes away, still somewhat worried that even that could knock her out.

...

Marie is coming up with nothing. Dad already left for work, Mom went out grocery shopping, two of her sisters are already out there living the life- and she's still here, the only one with magical powers. Nothing; she's coming out with nothing.

...

.../almost/ nothing, but not nothing; an impression, at least. When she tried to analyze the lock under the latch to her own room, Marie remembers it, faintly, being- bigger. Much, MUCH bigger, much more complex, unbearably big, as if the lock was a galaxy in its own right. The memory alone makes her shudder, and Marie even wonders if it's safe to keep thinking about this.

>Try to open my own lock completely regularly (by that, I mean with lockpicks) with no magic.
It's either chill or die at this point; whatever fuckery is going on is clearly not to be taken lightly. Marie goes into her room, grabs her back (which almost chimes like a wind chime), leaves her room, and then locks it down with the key. Then it's time. Faint dread creeps over her back and seeps through her fingers as Marie takes out her trusty tension wrench and pick rake from her bag; if she can't even do this right, she'll die, she knows, because to live is to move. As she lifts the pin sets of the lock with her pick, she adds some tension on its plug so that it rotates just enough. The driver pin will catches the edge of the plug; now the tension wrench is like a key, and there you go, door open.

Whew.

Teeth gritted, Marie can't help sweeping the sweat off her forehead. This was just... too important. Relief washes over her; magic or not, she can still move.

>Make a reminder in the notebook to go to the doctor later. Fainting four times in a row cannot be healthy, magically induced or not.
Maybe Mom and Dad and the Robot Trio are right; maybe she does just need some g'old medicine. That Dolores told had told her Magical Girls get a much stronger body that almost never gets sick, but- shit is weird. I dunno. At this rate, there won't be much left of the weekend to just fuck around.

>Not every day is a weekend! Monday is coming soon- and Mom will have my ass if I keep missing school. What else can I do?