/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>>46165567
it's more of a meme at this point; people have been talking about “this/next thread is the last!” since thread 2. Considering the ways the writeanons write together, it's hard to gauge how many threads are necessary for all plot elements to be tied down. At the very least, all seem to be gearing towards the ending: the next Anon's Frens meeting, for example, will be the last one.

>>45676527
it was to celebrate the 3 months of project, though. I have something else for the completion of the main story!

>>45062875
it is an interesting power, but also extremely hard to work with and circumstantial. The non-euclidian movement and 'power to never be bound' is easier to interpret and use, and would have a use in the finale beyond “so you have a power that deemed from the start all this disgrace preventable, but just couldn't use at the time? Huh…” That can easily leave a sour taste in the mouth if handled wrong.

>>44828303

Two weeks had passed since that day, guilt, disgust, and shame perforated her mind like clouds in the fall sky above. What she did was bad enough but now the jetlag was setting in as well, it'd been the middle of spring or so when she had come home to find her father missing with only that disgustingly eerie gap showing her into a trap.

Her body still shivered at the sight of that tear in reality, and did so again at the memory of going into it... All that she saw after that, all that she did, all that she became back then. It stirred in her mind like a whirlpool.


Hana exited that building feeling sick with the tears still swelling her eyes even after they stopped. The way out was just as shameful and it filled her with rage, she ran past the baths and adjoining powder room, into the main lobby, and into the dressing room where she'd rushed out still wearing the mockery of a miko's outfit.

The building was it seemed, not the near empty husk she believed it was. Even through the tears and stirring dark emotions that she was barely able to recover from just moments ago she was acutely aware of the sheer volume of people, specifically women, that were all over the place!

The main lobby was filled with idle chatter, women who payed her no real mind aside from a few glances and side eyes. Some sitting in the padded booth seats, some standing in small groups, some in the taller chairs that were paired with small tables and clearly minding their own business. Perhaps it was due to her training or blood but she could feel the mix of humanity, youkai, and even divine...? energies mingling together in some sick parody of the order she was trained to maintain.

Along the wall was a small kiosk that a tengu lady manned who haggled over something or other, and beyond that she could barely see some sort equally wide, if not wider, room whose purpose she didn't know just yet.

The dressing room was as she remembered it at least, largely empty but not devoid of life it seemed. Standing behind a homely looking reception desk graced with brass reliefs in the same style as that damnable alter in the mockery of her home, was a someone she recognized from her past: Ran Yakumo.

As she ran out of the building towards the doors that wouldn't yield as if she was punching the bedrock of the earth itself she saw a tinge of pity on the fox's face as they made eye contact for a second. Her nose wrinkled for a moment and it was quickly replaced with a look of disgust, Ran didn't say anything as she sprinted out without changing.


The rain had started picking up and she hardly saw anyone on their way home, the few that she did she see looked at her for a second before returning their gaze to their path. No one seemed willing comment nor spend the time talking to or about the girl who sprinted down the mud filled dirt roads of the village.

It didn't take her long to burst into her home as its not like the route changed, she found the door unlocked and the inside in the same state as it was when she left. The inside of her home was dark and lonesome, the air was stagnant and smelled of the wood that framed it. She walked, not caring about the chill she felt from the lewd clothes that clung to her body as she walked into the kitchen.

Like she left it the chairs were flipped, the table bumped and out its place, the stove had long been cold with the kettle sitting upon it and the once wonderful meal that was being prepared sat desiccated as the mold that consumed it had long dried up and died away. She found herself with her eyes closed for a moment, she could still see it, the day before all that happened where she walked into the same kitchen following the smell of a meal already prepared and her father smiling at her as he read some nonsense in the bunbunmaru or one of the Suzunaan's books.

She opened her eyes, hoping for a second that she could open them and as if by magic he'd be there again, but no. Of course things weren't so forgiving. The kitchen was still empty, the food still long rotted away, the kettle still cold and empty, and the scratch marks she couldn't seem to ignore still leading into her father's room.

She walked into that room again, in the same kind of daze she'd been in earlier as she looked at the scratch marks that still lead up the center of the room. The blood that marred the little grooves where her father resisted furiously and the drops that once fell from the bottom of that gap had long ago turned to rust.

The once bloody stains had set, dried up, and all but turned to dust and blown away. The wood would forever tell the tale of what happened. She felt a shiver as she stared at the now calm air where that terrible portal was, it wasn't from the chill but nevertheless a part in the back of her mind knew that she had to get dry and she stripped off where she stood letting the clothes fall where they may.

It didn't take long to change, it took longer to settle enough to rest.