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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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Twitter: https://twitter.com/YumeNikkiQuest
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Yume+Nikki+Quest%2C+Collective+Game%2C+Yume+Nikki

First post momentarily.
>>
Time for nightmare fuel.
>>
>>33779726

>nightmare fuel

LITERALLY.
>>
>>33779758
What are we going to burn, anyway? You implied it would be something unsettling, but I honestly can't think of anything really flammable available to Stark, let alone disturbing flammables. So clearly this is going to be something really unsettling since I won't be expecting it.
>>
>>33779843
>What are we going to burn, anyway?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cj-Edr0k8TQ
>>
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>>33779642
>Stack effect
>The effect of fire on the lower floors of a building drawing air from outside to get burny
Wellsht.

Also I have a pic of madotsuki for some reason so here you go
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>>33779843

PUT YOUR FINGER RIGHT ON IT

post nao
>>
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Under the silent blades of rusted windmills and the shimmering shroud of the aurora borealis, a girl who's dreams involve headless corpses with bloated, mouthed abdomens and screaming pipes that walk and bleed is looking at you like you're the nutty one.

“A fire,” she says flatly.

“A fire,” you confirm.

Madotsuki cocks her head slightly. “What possible use could that serve?”

“Ever hear of the stack effect?” She simply stares at you, so you plow on. “Okay, you know how convection is the basic principle of heated air moving upwards, right? A smokestack, or anything that resembles one, increases the effect because of, uh, reasons. But the important thing is, if you've got an extremely hot fire under a stack, or a very widespread fire, at least half a mile square, the updrafts create low pressure... causing more air to rush in at ground level.” You point at the concrete rectangle set into the side of the hill, the dark passage leading to The Sewers. “And the ingress point is perfectly situated.”
>>
>>33779843
>What are we going to burn, anyway?
Jews.

Yes, I know it's not possible logically. We're in a dream world.
>>
>>33780046

Mado squints at you and shakes her head slowly. “That's impossible-”

“The updrafts are strong enough to lift a man off their feet, in a bad wildfire.”

“No, I mean – you really think its going to be enough to move those windmills? And generate enough power? Really?”

“Really,” you tell her. “This is a *dream,* Mado. It's not about line resistances or total airflow, its about...” you shake your head. “I know it's going to work. I can feel it.”

Madotsuki frowns. “And the power's just going to flooow to those pumps automagically?” she asks, waggling her arm like a beached fish to indicate the mysterious transmission.

“No, we're going to have to wire it,” you tell her.

“And how are we going to do-”

You simply point over her shoulder. She turns to look.

“Seriously?”

You nod at the distant, shadowed hulk of the gigantic dormitory building. “Seriously.”

Mado glances at you, doubt and confusion writ plain on her face. She's going to object.

[ ] Clarify your plan with the Power.
[ ] Clarify your plan with the Fire.
>>
>>33780046
Convection ashit
Adiabatic compression (or decompression) isolev
Source: I'm on a fucking mountain and it's cold
>>
>>33780088
>[ ] Clarify your plan with the Power.
We need wires. Or a huge ass satellite dish and a microwave or radio transmitter.
>>
>>33780088
>[x] Clarify your plan with the Power.
>>
>>33780088
>[ ] Clarify your plan with the Power.
>>
>>33780088
>[X] Clarify your plan with the Power.
Windmill World has a lot of objects we could theoretically strip wire from. Like that warplane or the...my guess would be boarding school or church, based on its description in last thread. Probably we're going to head to that one. It would have fuel, too. And plenty of opportunities for nightmares.
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>>33780118
>>33780128

[X] Clarify your plan with the Power.

You know the Fire's the big sticking point in your plan, but... you don't feel like explaining that, just yet. The necessity looms in the back of your mind, ominous and insistent, but...

… besides, its nice to have a problem you can actually solve.

You leap to your feet, pick up your axe and crowbar and stride away towards the distant, dark building. “We're looking for a four hundred and eighty volt three-cycle AC transformer,” you tell Madotsuki. “That's what the pumps the size of the ones in the sewer typically need.”

Madotsuki hastens to follow as you stomp past the wrecked warplane, kicking spent shell casings with your sneakers as you tromp down the hill and towards the distant building with purpose. “Come the fuck ON, Stark, even I know that equipment like that isn't that simple-”

“It is,” you tell her. “It IS that simple. It's a dream, Mado. Emotions rule down here, themes, loves, and – and fears. But the closer we get it to reality, the better, I think.”

She catches up to you, panting a little as she trots to keep pace with your long, rapid strides. “Yeah, but-”

“That,” you say, pointing at a small, boxy building to one side, “is a power substation of some sort, maybe a chemical battery or a huge flywheel to service peak demand, when the wind dies or something. With a handful of small windmills like this, line voltage for transmissions only going to be... forty-thousand volts, I'd think.” You nod, savoring the sound of informed rationality as it rolls from your lips. “That means you only need one transformer for the next reduction – like down to one-ten volt AC for house current... or four-eighty for anything else. Which means I can rip that fucker right off the wall and run that-” you point at the power cable running over your head from the substation to the first power-pole by the road - “right into the Sewers.”
>>
>>33780777
I like this. Stark trying to force the dream world to do his bidding by confronting it with inescapable logic. I'm expecting it to backfire horribly at some point, because the dream world hates logic, but for now at least it's pretty cool.
>>
>>33780777

“... yeah, whatever,” Mado says, her breathing a little ragged. “Think you can slow down?”

“No,” you say coldly, and keep on marching, your eyes fixated on the huge building ahead, its bulk intimidating in the nighttime gloom. “What's in there, anyways?”

“Duhnno,” Mado says.

You stop so suddenly that Mado crashes into your back. “Ow!”

“What the fuck do you mean, you don't know?” you snap, rounding on her. “I thought you explored every inch of this hellscape you call a braOW!” you yelp as she kicks you in the shin.

“Firstly, fuck you,” she growls. “Secondly, I... it was always there... I guess... but it kind of felt...” she shrugs. “Fuzzy.”

“... fuzzy,” you say flatly, balancing on one foot as you hug your aching shin mournfully.

“Like a backdrop painting,” she says uncomfortably. “Like that kind of landscape art that's just calming to look at, you know? Never really wanted to stay, though... it just didn't feel...” she shrugs, her voice dropping. “Didn't feel like me, if you know what I'm saying.”

You nod as your mouth goes dry. “Probably because it isn't.”

“I know,” she says lowly. “I know, all right? Can we just get your fucking doohickey and get the hell out of here?”
>>
>>33780871
Well, time to get our fucking doohickey and get out of here.
>>
>>33780871
Mood swing, give her a smashing smile, a thumbs up, then dash away.
>>
You advance slower now, more wary now that Mado's confirmed what you suspected – this isn't part of either of your minds, but... someplace else. As the building's hulk looms taller and taller as you approach, the shimmering neon ghostlights of the multihued aura overhead begins to illuminate features – broken windows, clap-board siding peeling away, an arched brick entryway half-consumed by overgrown ivy. A little footbridge crosses a dry creekbed a little ways from the structure; the weather-warped boards creak and groan sonorously as you tromp across.

The obvious dilapidation of the structure might lend it some air of quaint, bucolic peacefulness if not for its obvious abandonment. Nothing is so empty or as gutted as a completely vacant building; like the difference between a sleeping man and a corpse. Once the spark of animation is gone, its felt, not merely seen. An odd feeling of trepidation steals over you as you approach the place, the arched entryway looming wide and empty before you. The feeling you're walking into an open grave sharpens when you espy a tally board on the side of the archway, the kind a fire department or barracks might use to keep track of who's in and who's out. The board lies empty, and each named tally board lies shattered or discarded on the bricks underfoot, the names painted on them undecipherable.

You step into the courtyard and take a moment to gain your bearings.
>>
>>33781436
>this isn't part of either of your minds, but... someplace else.
Oh shit, we've entered the QM'S IMAGINATION.
Falling paladins, Shiny red buttons, Waifu wars and /a/shit await
>>
>>33781436
Maybe it's the villain's dream, then? Time to hunt for clues.
>>
>>33781535
>>33781507
>The QM was the villain all along
>>
>>33781535
It's filled with dreams of a father rapping his daughter and Mado goes into fetal position then starts sobbing
>>
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>theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVLfhzuMv_k

The place is gigantic; the yard seeming more like a parade ground. Long, four-story high buildings flank you on three sides, with a small clocktower situated to your right. A water pump is sited before the smaller, third wing directly across the yard from you, and smack-dab in the center is some large object underneath a moldy canvas tarp. Turning to look over your shoulder, you espy the power cable from the windmills passing over the wall to meet a transformer set into the side of the clocktower building. Its a very old-fashioned one; the glass insulator on the small support post set into the walltop is obvious, and the transformer itself has a big lever on it, the kind the power company would hook with a pole to cut off juice to deadbeats.

You eyeball the dark, hollow buildings. You've got no idea whats in there. Rotting floorboards, missing staircases,

traps

dangers unknown. If the power works, even a little, the light could help immensely. But in an old building like this, with post-and-straw wiring, lending power to broken connections could also cause... problems.

The kind of problem you hate the most.

[ ] Darkness bad. Activate power.
[ ] “Problems” are worse. Leave well enough alone.
>>
>>33781657
>[x] Darkness bad. Activate power.
Also I recognise that building. Haibane
>>
>>33781657
[x] “Problems” are worse. Leave well enough alone.
Madotsuki can become light anyway. We don't need frayed old rat-eaten connections sparking, setting fire to the place, and #rekt #scrubing us
>>
>>33781657
[ ] “Problems” are worse. Leave well enough alone.
>>
>>33781657
>“Problems” are worse. Leave well enough alone.
We should know a fire hazard when we see one.
>>
>>33781657
>[X] “Problems” are worse. Leave well enough alone.
Mado has a lamp. Better to use that than to risk causing an uncontrolled fire. Besides, darkness isn't that bad. At this point I welcome darkness. It means the enemy isn't escalating to worse.
>>
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>>33781744
>>33781757
>>33781775
>>33781890
>>33781930

[X] “Problems” are worse. Leave well enough alone.

You eyeball the transformer and shake your head slowly. Madotsuki can provide light... and its not like you two haven't been through deeper, darker places together already. Those were Stygian pits of nightmares made manifest, and this is... just a building.

Just a building.

Right?

Squinting upwards at the transformer, you espy what you're looking for – a second cable that splits away from the incoming service main, this one heavily insulated. It snakes into a conduit that follows the building's side to ground level and vanishes beneath the earth.

“There,” you say, pointing. “That leads to a secondary transformer. That's our ticket.”

Madotsuki looks up at the looming four-story bulk of the building, with the clocktower hanging overhead, and back to you. She shrugs.

“Lead on.”

The first door you encounter is locked, so you free your crowbar from the axe and jam the flat fork into the crevice between door and jamb. With your free hand, you twirl your axe around so the spiked end faces the crowbar. Underneath the spike, the axehead is hardened for use as a hammer. Wielding it one-handed, you smash it into the bottom of the crowbar's J-curve end and drive the forked bit deep into the crevice. With one violent shove, the deadbolt bursts through the wooden trim with a loud crack and splinter.

You enter.
>>
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>theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCRa7S8O-tU (copypaste into one of the “listen on repeat” sites if you wish)

The interior is dank and dark. Mado conjures her light; cupping it carefully in both hands; this time it manifests as flickering lamplight, the soft radiance lingering on sagging floors and drooping doors, the ruin that used to house many lives. You find a staircase and descend, your axe ready in both hands, but nothing sirs save the creak and groan of weary carpentry underfoot.

In the basement proper you rediscover the heavy-duty coated cable where it passes through the damp brick foundation and heads off into the darkness along the wall. With Mado at your side you creep deeper into the building.

That uncomfortable tension you felt under the windmills, near the shattered aircraft and the ground covered with spent shells, is fading fast, replaced by a deep, mournful brooding that seems to seep into your soul from the tired, forgotten structure that sleeps all around you. No dust tickles your nose, no scurrying rats or insects feed your ears; only the soft stuffing of your sneakers on floorboards. A chill steals into your bones as you walk deeper into the tomb of silence.

At last, the cable makes a right turn through a wall near a portal, and you gingerly tug at the doorknob, only to find the door stuck fast. You apply the crowbar, wincing at the mournsome creak the damp wood emits as you pry it apart.

Within the room sits a huge, powerful piece of equipment, pipes and valves running to and fro – the main water pump for the entire facility. On the opposite wall you espy your prize; a 480 volt transformer, covered with dust.

And glued to the corner near it, what looks like a gigantic silk cocoon.

The kind spiders weave.

>Acquire transformer, leave.
>Proactive fucking abortion.
>HEY MADO, WANNA MAKE A BUCK?
>Other?
>>
>>33782778
>HEY MADO, WANNA MAKE A BUCK?
>>
>>33782778
>HEY MADO, WANNA MAKE A BUCK?
>>
>>33782778
You like dark music, yes?
Here, have a Turgor
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3zLV1xmS1c
>>
>>33782778
>HEY MADO, WANNA MAKE A BUCK?
>>
>>33782778
>Acquire transformer, leave.
Spiders spin those cocoons to keep their food fresh. Which means anything in there is probably not a threat. Messing with it, could awaken whatever wove it, though. Let's just get the transformer and leave.
>>
>>33782778

>Acquire transformer, leave.

Fuck spiders. Just go.
>>
>HEY MADO, WANNA MAKE A BUCK?
>>
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>HEY MADO, WANNA MAKE A BUCK?

You eyeball the gigantic cocoon, big enough to hold three men. Your axeblade trembles in your hands; the cocoons silent silken promise almost insufferable in the absolute stillness of this forgotten basement. A wild urge skirls about your soul, a sudden desire to rush across the room and tear that thing apart, reveal the lurking demon and strike it down with one decisive blow.

TRAP

you halt halfway across the room, your weapon already raised in both hands. You lower it, trying to steady your shaky respiration. Stumbling back a few halting steps, you eyeball the damned cocoon, hanging within arms reach of the transformer.

“H-hey, Mado,” you say weakly. “W—w-wanna m-make a buck?”

“He came after me,” she whispers near your ear.

“What?” you ask irritably, still eyeballing the cocoon, a deep and sour frustration rising in your breast. You're feet away from your objective, but the risk is too great. You feel that old desire stir again, the anger that follows the fear; a deep-seated and powerful wish to make the terror stop, once and for all, once and for fucking ALL with a-

“He wasn't supposed to come here,” Mado whispers again.

“What the-” you turn to look at her.

Mado isn't there.
>>
>>33783466

You spasm violently as your head whips around the other way to find Mado behind your left shoulder, looking at you quizzically.

“He couldn't accept it,” that gentle feminine voice whispers again, weeping evident in its wilted tones. “Couldn't bear my suffering...”

From within the cocoon comes that toom toom sound, that horrible fucking toom sound of the drowning and the toom toom damned-

“HE SHOULDN'T HAVE COME HERE!” the voice wails in your ear, misery and longing echoing through the air, and from within the cocoon you hear /that/ scream of bubbling gurgling finality as the final life-breath leaves with the soul, bubbling and pouring out to rise towards the light as the emptied bag of flesh sinks into the darkness discarded “HE DEFILED ALL THAT WAS HOLY BUT HE DIDN'T CARE HE DIDN'T CARE HE COULDN'T ACCEPT IT AND HE DIDN'T CARE-”

a violent ringing crash tears through the air, ripping the sepulchral silence asunder as the cocoon breaks free from the wall, spilling a rusted tool-cart out over the floor as it falls. Mado's startled shriek pierces the air a moment after.

Something's rolling and wiggling within the cocoon.

Someone.

TRAPPED.

[ ] This isn't right this doesn't fit this doesn't fit anything
[ ] We are... we are... Master Stream told us not to fail, because we are...
>>
>>33783549
>[X] We are... we are... Master Stream told us not to fail, because we are...
Fuck, I don't know what any of this means. In general I vote for the option that represents us trying to figure things out rather than rejecting them, though.
>>
>>33783549
>[x] We are... we are... Master Stream told us not to fail, because we are...
Let's act like we know(?)
>>
>Fuck, I don't know what any of this means.

To be fair... that's perfectly fine, because neither does Stark. There *is* an order and a meaning behind it, and you might figure it out later, and make some better sense of it, but right now, in the basement of this silent tomb of a building, you're just trying to keep your goddamn brain glued together.

If you're really curious though someone already called out what's being referenced here
>>
>>33783549

[x] This isn't right this doesn't fit this doesn't fit anything

Is this... Stark? Or someone else? Where did this damn cocoon come from?
>>
>>33783549
> We are... we are... Master Stream told us not to fail, because we are...
>>
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>>33783549
>This isn't right this doesn't fit this doesn't fit anything
>>
>>33783687
See, that's the thing that gets me about this. I keep feeling like I SHOULD know what's happening, but it's just not quite gelling. Which means you're doing a good job, I'm enjoyably frustrated. But it still bothers me.
>>
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>>33783762
>I keep feeling like I SHOULD know what's happening, but it's just not quite gelling.

you just made me squeal like a little girl
>>
>>33783762

I have the same fucking feeling. I mean, we've seen this imagery before. I feel like it relates to Stark, I feel like I've ALMOST figured it out, but it keeps slipping away.
>>
>>33783901
Yeah, you're doing a good job. It's just at the tip of my tongue. There are some major themes emerging to the dreamscape that don't fit Mado, and so therefore must be either us or the intruder. Smothering, for instance. I'm observant enough to see the connections between the events and note the themes, but not enough to figure out what they mean.
>>
A gibbering, tiny voice in your soul screams at you to run from this place, with its whispering voice and cocooned monsters and creaking corpse of weathered construction. Instead you advance, your mind suspended in a trance betwixt two mighty tensions. Like in the sewers, you cannot run and cannot charge, so you simply drag yourself forward, step after measured step, knowing its a trap but unable to deny your voracious, ravening need to tear that cocoon away and free the supplicant, for they supplicate you.

The axehead comes up before you, and with ponderous inevitability, it falls upon the front of the cocoon with a wet ripping sound. A tidal wave of festering fluid gushes out and splashes over you, and into your arms tumbles a figure clad in a blood-splattered white robe.

A girl, thin and weak.

She clutches at you feebly, glancing up into your eyes.

“They couldn't stop him,” she whispers, tears cutting clean little rivulets in her blood-smeared cheeks. “He lived and breathed with death so long, the barrier was nothing... and-” her tiny hands suddenly crush your biceps in an iron grip as her entire body jolts and stiffens violently. “HE-” she croaks, “RIPPED – EVERYTHING – APHAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH-”
>>
>>33785187
>theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKwRm4SYu68

Under her gossamer gown her shoulderblades bulge and swell, and with a hideous ripping of flesh and muscle, two coal-black wings erupt from her back in a shower of blood and gristle.

You drop her, lurching back in terror as the girl's back arches, her drawn-out scream deepening and intensifying until the very walls and ceiling are thrumming and shaking with its hideous volume. Your braincase seems to implode upon itself, the horrible shrieking pain piercing to your core. The girl's twisting and warping upon the DON'T FUCKING LOOK you seize the transformer in both hands and YANK, ripping its mounting bolts from the-

“-WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” the building itself screams, the offended wall buckling convex, seeming to leap towards you. You turn for the door, where Madotsuki's already waiting, and run for your miserable fucking life.

An earth-deep shudder shakes the structure entire, worn plaster raining down from the ceiling as the old building begins to disintegrate. The vibrations are so powerful they seem to lift you from the floor and bounce you off the walls, the hallway seeming to rotate and leap under and around you.

I DREAMED AND FELL AND DREAMED AND FELL AND DREAMED AND FELL INTO THE WELL

The dim outline of the next doorway always jinking and leaping away as you and Mado desperately race towards them. The transformer hugged to your chest is heating up rapidly, seeming to simmer and sizzle against your chest as you bear the precious cargo through the rapidly disintegrating house.
>>
>>33785230

DREAMT OF ME AND IN THE DREAMS HE FOUND ME

Up the stairs you fly, three at a time. With a tortured, monsterous sound a beam twists and splinters, its end smashing clean through the staircase before you. Mado teeters on the edge but a moment before plummeting into it with a scream, but you catch her with one hand even as you clear the gap with one great leap, the remaining stairway swaying about madly as it dangles from its only remaining anchor point, the top.

HE DEFIED THE CYCLE AND CAME WITH HIS CROW SNORTING FIRE AND LEAD

The remaining staircase gives way with a sharp, final SNAP! and you surge upwards with every ounce and fiber of your being, pushing away from the risers with your toe muscles even, the transformer flying through air ahead of you as your axe comes down in a desperate, last-ditch arc-

RIPPED ME FROM GLIE'S COCOON LIKE A BABY FROM THE WOMB

-the axe's spike burying itself in the first-floor landing. You sling Madotsuki upon the ledge, her face already revealing the Demon effect. She sets her heels in and grabs the axe-head, her monster-form's strength pulling you back from the brink of the void.

TORE ME APART APART TO PIECES DASHED ALL TO PIECES ALL THINGS ALL ORDER ALL TIME HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE

You snatch the transformer from the floor and race for the exit, Madotsuki beside you. Your breath stings and burns in your lungs as your mind shuts down, your every energy and effort bent on the distant promise of that light-gray rectangle of salvation, the exit, the exit, the exit -
>>
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>>33785297

“THEY FALL FROM THE HAND OF GOD, YOU BASTARD-”

The dark hallway seems to stretch out before you as your vision fades around the edges, a narrow tunnel with a dubious promise at the end. You reach for it with your very soul,

“-NOT YOURS, YOU SELFISH BASTARD,”

-wishing for nothing more than to escape this voice that screams and wails and shrieks to pierce your very soul-

“WHY COULDN'T YOU ACCEPT? WHY? WHY? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY-”

-into the night, the sweet, clean night air you burst, the horrific chorus of snapping timbers and splintering structure finally exploding into an indistinguishable and gargantuan roar of death. You spin about to behold the looming black leviathan – and amidst its center, something brooding burnt-orange and bright appears, a narrow wedge like the pupil of a massive, staring snake-eye.

It widens, expands, and soon the moon itself explodes into your dark-adapted eyes, a brilliant bloody light bathing you as a mighty, booming GONG! explodes across the courtyard and smashes your eardrums sharp enough to send a jolt through your skeleton. The clocktower itself gongs again as its tall spire descends, following the collapsing dormitory wing into the deep recesses of the earth. As the building's shattered remains plummet into the darkness of a vast and deep sinkhole, you hear the clocktower's bell, sonorous and diminishing, the gong sounding again and again and again as it vanishes into the black.
>>
>>33785347
>[ ] Write-in.
>>
>>33785375
What? Did we just get attacked by the ghost of Rakka from Haibane Renmei? I don't even know what to put as a write-in, I'm too confused.
>>
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>>33785375
>[x]fucking what
>>
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You come to your senses a quarter mile gone, tottering down a dark road, following the bloody moon's gleam upon the power line dangling overhead; a glinting rubescent ribbon that will lead you on. You're hugging the transformer to your chest, its massive, leaden weight comforting and stable. You've got a task to do, a task that lies a few steps ahead in the darkness, out of sight, and you must reach it-

“STARK!”

You keep dragging your sneakers through the dirt, intent on your destination-

“STARK!”

-and you will not be-

“STARK!” Mado shouts a third time, slapping you upside the back of the head. “Stark. STARK. Earth to Stark. Stop walking. Stop.”

You stop, but say nothing, still staring down the road, down the path, at your task-

“Stark, talk to me.”

>Talk to her about... all of that.
>You dare not. Like she won't talk about some things you won't talk about this, you dare not.
>>
>>33785637
>Talk to her about... all of that.
"Mado, I think I'm being haunted by the ghost of an anime."
>>
>>33785637
>You dare not. Like she won't talk about some things you won't talk about this, you dare not.
>>
>>33785637
>Talk to her about... all of that.
I want to know. Reveal some of your personal trauma to me, Stark.
>>
>>33785637
>Talk to her about... all of that.
I'd like to know what the fuck just happened too.
>>
You look down at Madotsuki, who's gazing up at you with those warm brown eyes. Her brow's furrowed with annoyance, and her arms are crossed... well, crossly, but her concern fidgets and wiggles about underneath it, plain to see.

You close your eyes and hear the voice of the fallen angel screeching through your soul once more. What that building was, who those... things once were, you haven't a clue, but the message was clear. The tension you'd felt earlier, under the windmills, stands explained – like you told Mado. Worlds colliding. Places that weren't met to meet.

Places that SHOULDN'T HAVE COME HERE man wasn't meant to go.

Or stay in. Like you stayed in that puddle, grasping the wrist of Madotsuki's doppleganger, ready to drown HE COULDN'T ACCEPT IT rather than fail.

Like 'he' failed.

But you can't. Master Stream said as much, and... like everything else similar, you don't know why its important, or why you trust it, but on a level deeper then thought, you feel its true.

You can't fail.

“Stark,” Mado says, her arms unclinching a bit as the worry surfaces past her scowl. “What is it?”

“Its nothing,” you tell her.

“Bullshit,” she returns instantly. “Spill.”

You look up, over her shoulder. You're damn near back to the lonely hilltop of windmills, and smack-dab in the center you can see the dark concrete doorway that leads into The Sewers – where you're going to kindle your darkest deed alight.

You stand there for a long, brooding minute, pondering what to say.
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>>33786037
"Fuck"
>>
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148 KB JPG
>>33786037

THAT IS A WRAP FOR TONIGHT because I have to be up again in five fucking hours jesus christ oh my god what the fuck

YUME NIKKI QUEST RESUMES ON FRIDAY AT THE SAME TIME SAME BAT-CHANNEL SAME BAD JOKES because the fuck-train to brainville has just entered the 40 degree downhill slope and the conductor is smoking soy-sauce through a goddamn SKS

brakes?

ahah

no
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>>33786137
Thanks for running and leaving us at a giant cliffhanger, you bastard
>>
>>33786137
Damn right it has. Seriously, why did we run into a sin-bound haibane? I don't even know what to think anymore. The only thing I can guess is that maybe the villain goes from universe to universe harvesting victims, and he prefers ones that have themes of isolation and suicide?

Man, I don't know. See you Friday, faggot. I'm looking forward to wherever the madness train takes us next.



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