Haha! Time for nightmare fuel!

second for mindfuck

>>34191208
Third for soul-crushing despair

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Madotsuki's face is completely gone.

The hallway warps and wobbles and spins as you reel away, the faceless abomination steady in the center.

Madotsuki...

You hit the wall as you lurch away, unable to stand upright. Down the dark hallway you go careening, stumbling and lurching as you flee. The sallow sodium lamps flee each other, strecthing the hallway longer and longer as they space themselves out.

Madotsuki is...

You see the double-doors of the staircase at the end and make a mad dash, swaying and struggling to keep your footing as the hallway warps and spins around you. You hit the doors at a dead run, the old hinges screaming as they burst open, and go flying into an empty, dark shaft. You don't bother to scream as you plummet into the depths, watching the faint outline of the doorway dwindle and vanish into the distance.

Madotsuki is gone.

>>34191600
How many times has that happened now?

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You float in the void, alone with that single, awful truth.

Madotsuki is gone.

The sharp, hard-lipped expression she makes when sizing up something new, something dangerous. Gone. The cool calculation that flits across her dour expression, that flash of intelligence that plays behind her eyes as she reaches for an Effect, having already made her choice – gone. That squint, that little downturn at the corners of her mouth as she slides a sardonic look at you for wisecracking – gone. The little lopsided smirk that sneaks in under the dourface when *she* acts like a wiseass. Gone. The chestnut-haired girl who buried her face in your shirt, terrified of heights. Gone.

The single second of pleading vulnerability, when she first asked you for help.

Gone.

Soon you shall be a ghost for real, when the unknown threat in the waking world claims your last minutes, and you shall wander here forever trapped between waking and sleeping, life and death, unable to do a damn thing. Trapped in an endless void with nothing and nobody to look at but your own memories of a girl, a living, breathing, vibrant girl who deserved better. You'll never see her clear of this nightmare, much less find out what created it, or who locked her in that dusty room.

A girl you couldn't save.

As you curl up in a ball and begin to weep, you finally understand why so much of Mado's dreams consist of dark voids: they leave you alone with the worst nightmare of all.

Yourself.

>In the end, I was never strong enough. I have failed again, and now reap what I deserve.
>In the end, there was never a chance – I only hope I helped her, somehow, as much as I was able.
>In the end, this wasn't going to be free. Take me. Take me.

>>34192092
>In the end, I was never strong enough. I have failed again, and now reap what I deserve.

>>34192092
>In the end, I was never strong enough. I have failed again, and now reap what I deserve.

hurrah for self-loathing!

>>34192092
>This is not going to end here. I'm not going to give up.

>>34192092
>Write in
IN THE END, ALL I HAVE TO DO IS GET BACK UP AGAIN!

>>34192092
ARE WE A FUCKING MAN OR NOT

STAND THE FUCK BACK UP THERE'S WORK TO BE DONE

>>34192092
>In the end, there was never a chance – I only hope I helped her, somehow, as much as I was able.

>>34192204
This.

>>34192092
>In the end, there was never a chance – I only hope I helped her, somehow, as much as I was able.

>>34192092
>In the end, I was never strong enough. I have failed again, and now reap what I deserve.

No good options. Why does nothing ever work out good and easy.

>>34192092
>In the end, there was never a chance – I only hope I helped her, somehow, as much as I was able.
At least we tried. If nothing we do matters, let us at least remember that we struggled against our fate.

>>34192092
>Get up, we don't get paid to lie down and give up.

>>34192092

>In the end, there was never a chance – I only hope I helped her, somehow, as much as I was able.

At least we tried. Sometimes, that's all we can do.

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>In the end, I was never strong enough. I have failed again, and now reap what I deserve.
>In the end, there was never a chance – I only hope I helped her, somehow, as much as I was able.

When you were young, a car plunged into a dark lake with a little girl trapped inside. You were small, and weak, and scared. If you'd jumped in immediately, when you saw what was happening, you could've swung with all your might, your fist whistling through the free air as the car was still flooding, and pulled her out. But you didn't – you waited. And when it was far too late, you kept clinging to that car door, hammering at the glass uselessly, trying to make up in effort what you lacked in character.

You've spent the rest of your life trying to be the hero that little girl needed, in her moment of greatest need – and failing. You kindled the death of your best friend to save yourself, showered in the saving grace of fire-retardant as someone who loved you suffocated in a fucking tinfoil bag. You do battle with a raging beast, a snorting dragon that you're too afraid to face on even footing, hesitating at the breach even as the trapped and damned cry for salvation. And because of that, you never saw what Madotsuki really needed; never pressed her on her traumas, never did what truly needed doing. There was no one point of failure, no grand failure – just a general inability to make the cut. You just weren't good enough, smart enough, sharp enough. You're just some ordinary human, and that wasn't enough.

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Lost, alone in the dark, you know this is it. You've no way out, no way back. No matter how hard and long you weep, no matter how your soul screams with remorse and impotent rage, nothing changes. You can only pray to the angel you granted you benediction, pray and hope that what you did was enough – that Madotsuki finds her own way out, and wakes remembering a man who gave everything he had to give her a chance. She's strong; stronger than you – and if she knows that even one person, even in a dream, was willing to fight for her, maybe it'll be enough. Heroes are better than that; heroes survive and carry the wounded and weak to safety with their own arms. But you're no hero; you've got to pay a higher cost for less result.

But, as always in life, there's never enough heroes to go around. And if you have to choose between yourself and the sad, scared, scarred girl with the chestnut hair and brown eyes, you choose her.

And that'll have to be enough.

Curled into a ball, floating alone in the dark, you chose your last words carefully. A request – a prayer – that whoever, whatever was guiding you through your journey abandon you now, and find Mado. Your time is fast approaching its end (were you ever meant to survive? Was there any chance that you'd actually wake up?) and now its time for Mado to walk alone into the light.

You steady your breath, the brilliance of this last desire burning bright in your mind. Clasping your hands together, you force the halting, stuttering words out of your sob-wracked lungs.

And then someone kicks you right in the ass.

>>34192799
"Hey! Leave the dying to their peace!"

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You go flying through the nothing and face-plant on a very, very solid flat plane of more nothing, bruising your jaw, squishing your nose and generally looking like a grown man that just got kicked in the ass.

“Starky,” a voice says behind you, a familiar voice, a voice that vibrates familiar in your soul. “Starky, you gigantic crybaby son of a bitch.”

You stagger upright just in time to get bearhugged by someone, someone big and strong. He lifts you clear off your feet, the tears evident in his voice. “Starky,” he says, his voice quavering with happy tears. “Starky, I've missed you, you stupid asshole.”

“... Dougie,” you say softly. The name turns in your heart, smooth and tight like a well-oiled lock turning. The doors of memory fly open, and then you're gripping him back, burying your face in his neck and smelling his living presence and weeping with joy to be with him again, to hear his voice, to have your friend, your best friend back. Your sinuses choke off, forcing you to gulp down helpless, shaking sobs as you grip your friend once again.

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>>34193227

After an eternity, you slip apart to look each other in the eye. “Dougie... Dougie,” you say, tears flooding out your vision again. You mop them away hastily, not wanting to miss a second of him, of his face, the smokejumper, your childhood friend, your angel, your ghost. “I'm sorry, Dougie.”

He grins back at you, tears streaming down his cheeks as well. “I know, you dumbass.”

You lower your head, keeping your eyes on his face until you finally break away, looking at the ground. You seize his shoulders in both hands, squeezing his solid flesh as you prepare to pay the price, to cast away your anchor a second time.

“If you're here, then I'm...” well, you knew that was coming, didn't you? “Mado needs you, Dougie. She needs a hero, and you're the only one around. I'll wait for the choir fantastic bus here – but you need to go, now.

Dougie grabs your face in both hands and lifts your head to face his, a huge, white grin covering his face. He shakes his head slowly.

“Starky, I missed you so much.”

And then he slaps you across the goddamn chops.

>>34193263
No rest for us yet, it seems.

>>34193263
You reel away, cradling your aching jaw. “The fuck!?”

“Stark, you simple, sad, melodramatic, self-blaming son of a bitch,” he says with warm admiration. “I'm not the hero. You are.”

“But-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dougie says, waving your unspoken words away casually, “I was always first in, always hot to trot, big brass balls, yadda yadda. I was fearless, Stark, but that's why it was easy for me – and to be honest, I was a bit of a derring-do dipshit.”

“... adrenaline junkie,” you say with calm recollection. “Like that boneheaded fucking sled ride we took with that home-made ramjet of yours that just spilled gas all over the toboggan-”

“Yeah thanks back to the point,” Dougie says with irritation. “*Anyway.* My point is, I was always giving you shit for being a soft touch. Hatchings you found on the barn floor after cowbirds pushed them out of the nest – how many of those did you raise, again? Feeding them by hand every day? You were friends with every goddamn cat in the neighborhood, you were always sticking up for that weird shifty little shit in the back of the room nobody liked -

“Salinger,” you say. “And he's an IRS agent now, quite successful.”

“I rest my case,” he says snuffily. “Do you still cry at the end of Armageddon?”

“Bruce Willis is a good actor and fuck you!” you snap out of reflex.

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>>34193659

“Yeah. I remember when your guinea pig died, when you were thirteen. You cried for three days because you felt you never played with him enough, just left him in the cage all the time. You told me you were never getting another one because you couldn't give them the life they deserved.”

You sigh, hiding your face in your hand. “Oh god dammit you remember that-”

“-and a week later another one just followed you home from Wal-Mart.” Dougie smiles at you as he shakes his head. “My point is, Starky – you *love.* You love like no man I've ever known, and I always loved *you* for that.” He draws closer, grabbing your head in both hands again, gripping tight so you can't look away. Joy dances in his eyes as he speaks. “I've watched you blame yourself over me for years, just like you blamed yourself for that little guinea pig that loved you so much it whistled like a kettle every time you walked in the door. We took a risk, Starky, and it backfired.”

“No,” you say, your voice shaking. “No, Dougie, that isn't you, you're-”

“You know what my last thoughts were when I crawled into that survival shelter-”

“NO, DOUGIE,” you cry, grabbing at his hands and trying to pry them lose, closing your eyes and thrashing about. “PLEASE, PLEASE, I-”

“I was glad you were going to live,” he said. “I was glad my best friend, the one who deserved to live, the one the world needed, was going to live.” He releases you, then grabs you by the shirt with both hands, lifting you off the ground like you're a feather. He shakes you once, glaring. “AND THEN I WATCHED YOU, YOU STUPID, STUPID SON OF A BITCH, I HOVERED OVER THAT FIELD AND WATCHED YOU COME AFTER ME-”

“Dougie,” you choke out through broken sobs, “I had to, I couldn't, I had to-”

>>34193689

“YOU ALMOST DIED!” he wails. “I was so fucking scared, I kept begging God to be happy with just me, just like you were now, begging the Devil to take my soul in exchange for your life, anything, everything, dead and unable to do a damned thing about it.” He drops you, letting you sprawl over the floor where you hide your weeping eyes with an arm, unable to look at him. But his voice presses through with the weight of love, of sorrow, and of long, long years. “I was dead before you ever lit that escape fire, Starky. And then you somehow twisted that into being my murderer.”

“Your parents-”

“Were upset, and stupid, and wrong,” he snaps in reply. “You should've known better, but... that's you, Starky. You love. Too much for your own damn good.” He wipes at his face with a sleeve. “So someone had to love you just as much... so I stayed.”

>>34193659
>Bruce Willis is a good actor
Stark noooo, don't do this to us, we're losing respect in you.

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>>34193716
Its like putting on your first pair of glasses and seeing a sharp, vivid world you never knew existed; a paradigm shift. Your head swims dizzily to comprehend it; to see the world in color after a lifetime in monochrome. But what about...

“... Mado,” you say softly. “I see. Like the ghost of flight 401, huh?” You smile at him. “My work isn't done. Mado needs an angel on her shoulder... guess I'm it.”

“Haw!” Dougie says, smacking you on the shoulder. “Oh, Starky, you need to aim a little fucking higher, bro.” He leans a little closer, looking up from under his brow at you. “Starky, the thing about love is? It's dangerous. Its the most dangerous thing there is.”

You blink. “H-how is-”

“Why aren't you supposed to do solo rescue swims of drowning people, if you can help it?”

“They try to climb on top of you out of panic,” you reply automatically.

“Right. Panic. Air. They want to live. Its our most basic, primal instinct. It turns even the sweetest little grandmother into a vicious, clawed beast when they're fighting for survival. And love, Starky, love is something that gets into you just like that instinct. If you love something, you need it like you need air, and the thought of losing it makes you react the exact same way.” He leans a little closer, his voice dropping. “Did you really think you were using Madotsuki as a substitute for that little girl you couldn't save when you were thirteen? Did you really, really think that some girl you never knew, some pleading face you saw for a split second was the only reason you followed that terrifying little knife-waving shitbird through nightmare after nightmare? No, Starky. No.”

So is Stark actually our name? Or is Dougie just humoring us?

>theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPbj3xEZDFI

He leans even closer, his nose right in your face, staring you down eye-to-eye. “Did you think this was gonna be some kind of Eternal Sonata bullshit? Some last dying dream, a bittersweet tale of love and self-discovery and acceptance~” he says mockingly. “Oh, no. This ain't Glie, pal. This is happening in our town, and we've got our own way of doing things. Especially you. Second best was never in the cards, for you."

In your peripheral vision something winks into existence; a little red blinkenlight, then another and another and another, like mechanical fireflies swarming in the darkness. But your vision remains fixed on the deep, dark eyes of your long-dead friend. “You told her yourself,” he says, low and intense, the syllables burning bright in your mind. “You've got to trust that someone's gonna catch you. Well, we're catching you now.” He takes a step backwards, spreading his arms wide, and now you can see the blinking lights, red and orange and yellow, flashing in the darkness all around, the bright strobes illuminating the ghostly outlines of masked faces and helmeted heads. The lights sprawl out around you, stretching into the infinite distance.

“And there's a lot of us down here, Starky.” He smiles, a thin, grim expression of triumph and satisfaction. “You're scared, I know. And brittle, and weak, and unsure. But that's the point. That's why hope rides alone, my friend – it doesn't need might or good odds. Its like a flame; the tiniest lick can ignite a wildfire. The cure's as strong as the disease, any day of the week.”

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>>34194845

He holds out a hand, and two of the ghostly figures approach, their masks dangling free. They nod to you with grim approval and hand Dougie an attack line, the hose charged and wet. “This is Hope, Stark – Hope you've dragged through hell and more, Hope you linked together with your own hands, piece by piece.”

Two more ghostly figures approach, one bearing your Axe, another the Crowbar. A third steps forward with the Wrench, and a fourth, the Insulator. They hand you your tools one by one, each giving you a firm handshake and a resolute nod. One rips a patch off his shoulder and hands it to you, slapping you on the back.

“We're almost out of time,” Dougie says with frustration. “Stark, you know something's in this dream with you, an unnatural enemy. The fight doesn't end here, or up there. And there's more like you, ready to fight.” He clasps your hand in both of his and squeezes it, looking you dead in the eye. “They'll need you, Stark. Find them.”

He releases the hose tucked under his arm and drops it in your hand. “Now go.”

Your fingers find the locking lugs on the junction between two sections – the side that leads from the water source. The side that leads out.

“For every man who's ever braved the breach,” one says.

“For every man who's ever carried bright steel into the darkness,” says another.

“For every man who's ever loved another more than himself,” they all say together, a rolling chorus of soft voices made loud by their countless multitude.

The lights begin to wink out, one by one, each and every man waving to you as you they fade out. You watch them go till there's but one red, blinking light in the black. You discern the shadowed features of your best friend as he waves you a final goodbye, his face expressing more than either of you could ever say.

And then you're alone in the darkness again... holding the hose.

The first thing they teach you: Lugs Lead Out.

>>34194864
Fuck yeah. Final boss fight now?

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>>34194897

Try THREE.

>>34194966
Even better. Boss Rush. Okay, we've got Uboa, the Dancer, and...I don't know who the third would be. The monster Mado turns into in the manga after she gives up on trying to escape, maybe?

>>34195035

That's the ending I keep squealing about~

>>34194966
BOSS RUSH

>>34195063
Nice. I called that way back in one of the early threads. Go me.

>>34194966
THIS ISN'T EVEN MY FINAL FORM.

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You follow the hose, pulling hand-over-hand, the axe tucked under your arm. You begin hauling it through your hands with greater and greater speed, the stiff, charged hose light as a feather in your big mitts. Soon you're running along, flying through the dark. The heavy canvas lifeline takes a sharp upward turn and soon you're flying upwards, your legs swinging from side-to-side as you climb hand-over-hand, your heart singing and muscles burning. The dark void lightens to gray as you climb, then to white. Soon the atmosphere itself thickens into fog, then thick fog, then grains of -

- sand?

The hose is gone, and you're buried in the biting, sharp white sandgrains of the White Desert once more. You strike out with all your strength, seeming to swim through the semisolid dune as you struggle for breath. Your hands and face scratched and bleeding, nasty sand tickling your nostrils, you finally surface, gasping for breath.

In the distance you see Madotsuki, curled in a ball on the ground, and above her, a towering beast from the realm of nightmares.

You grimace, and ready your axe.

It's time to wake the fuck *up.*

>BANZAAAAI
>Go to Madotsuki first
>Write-in?

>>34195250
BANZAAAAAAAAAIIIIII

FOR THE GLORY OF THE DEPARTMENT

FOR THOSE THAT COULD NOT BE SAVED

KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER

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>>34195250
>BANZAAAAI
YOU AIN'T SHIT

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>>34195250
>>BANZAAAAI

>>34195250
ZAI posted CP. Ban him.

>>34195250
>BANZAAAAI

>>34195250
>BANZAAAAI
We love too much, Dougie said. We let it overwhelm our sense of reason. So instead of wasting time checking on her, let's go straight to saving her. Die monster, we don't belong in this world!

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>>34195250
>BANZAAAAI
I guess it's time to stop fucking around.

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Theme: >https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhtZWkNa3YU

Standing wide, your axe gripped tight in both hands at the low ready, you look up at the monster. It towers above, literally filling the horizon, supported by too many limbs that grasp and grope the white bluffs salaciously. Its huge red eyes and gaping mouth weep blood as it kneads and grabs the ground, seeming to snigger with satisfaction as Madotsuki cowers in its shadow.

Its every disturbing suspicion, every awful, suggestive image from Madotsuki's nightmares given solid form – and it pisses you off so fucking much you can't think.

You see red.

The axe feels light and strong in your hands as you charge towards the massive, groping thing, screaming a challenge that echoes over the barren sands. Its impossibly huge eyes slowly turn to focus on you, a spray of half-congealed blood splattering over the pristine white ground as it grins in satisfaction. Three limbs free themselves from the bluffs and come flying down towards you, ready to crush and mash.

>CAN'T TOUCH THIS
>LADDER TRUCK HAS ARRIVED

>>34195839
>LADDER TRUCK HAS ARRIVED

>>34195839
>LADDER TRUCK HAS ARRIVED
Because we don't need our music making us so hard right now.

>>34195839
>LADDER TRUCK HAS ARRIVED
It's on now you fuck!

>>34195839
>LADDER TRUCK HAS ARRIVED

>>34195839
>LADDER TRUCK HAS ARRIVED
Gonna beat you down oh yes.

>>34195839
>>LADDER TRUCK HAS ARRIVED
COME AT ME BRO

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You watch the limbs approaching, fingers thick as small trees warping and wending, eager to grap and grope and bruise something too small and helpless to fight back. You feel something inside you give way with a crack and splinter, a hot heady pounding pulsing hate flowing through your mind just looking at that fucking thing, that violating thing, so assured of its power and so eager to use it on the helpless.

You let the first limb come down, diving into a roll just before it impacts, the “fingers” whipping towards you with unnatural fluidity. The axe comes up and over, severing one neatly. The beast ROARS, a furnace-fury bellow of stinking rotten blood-mist that coats you, your jacket rippling in the gale as you charge the limb itself. The crowbar flies from your belt as you draw it. You let the hickory axeshaft through your hand to grip it midway up, twirling the weapon in your palm to bring the sharp spike to bear. You take a running leap, flinging yourself up and out with every ounce of strength you can muster. You arc through the sky like an arrow, the axe and crowbar ready.

A shudder goes through the beast as you slam into its soft, fleshy limb, the axe spike and hooked crowbar end digging deep into the meat. Using both hands, you begin climbing hand-over-hand again, slamming your weapons into the soft, sagging, disgustingly moist materiel.

You sense rather than see the other limbs swinging in to attack. Bracing against the body with your knees you yank your tools free and free-fall away just as another limp slaps against the first, trying to crush you. Your crowbar finds purchase on one of the flailing “fingers,” your axeblade vibrating as you cleave through another “finger” one-handed, preventing the “hand” from grasping you. The monster shrieks in pain, a keening howl that twists in your guts with the wrongness of it, and flings the injured limb upwards, dislodging your crowbar.

You fly into the sky, tumbling out of control.

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Muscle memory takes over, guiding your stance. You tuck in your arms and legs just-so, still gripping your weapons, and soon your freefall has stabilized, belly-down in the classic skydiver position. You lean forward, angling your body just so, arching your back just enough to create a semblance of lift, enough to nudge your trajectory. The monster is an ungainly and clumsy thing, only spotting you when its too late to swat you away. Its mouth opens wide, a gigantic, flaming red tongue emerging to lick and lap around the grotesquely wide edges. The blood gushing and sloshing 'round the mouth and leaking from the eyes is vaporizing into a fine mist, a thick veil of bloody air that seems to rise and fall like gigantic, slow-motion flames. From its gaping, eager maw to the throbbing, dull-red glow of its massive eyes, its a hungry, lustful thing.

You're about to feed it a last meal.

… that sounded cooler in your head, you reflect as the creature lunges up on all its limbs, the gaping maw opening wide to devour you.

>GIANTS DRINK, MOTHERFUCKER
>FROM TOP TO BOTTOM, YOU SHITBAG

>>34196422
>FROM TOP TO BOTTOM, YOU SHITBAG

>>34196422
>GIANTS DRINK, MOTHERFUCKER
We gonna go all Ender Wiggin on your ass.

>>34196422
>>GIANTS DRINK, MOTHERFUCKER

>>34196422
>GIANTS DRINK, MOTHERFUCKER
Might as well. I'd rather wind up in its eye than its mouth. Though it's kind of hard to tell which is which, honestly. Its sprite is designed more for vague unease than any real detail.

>>34196422
>FROM TOP TO BOTTOM, YOU SHITBAG

>>34196422
>FROM TOP TO BOTTOM, YOU SHITBAG

Both. Land between eyes. Hack our way into his braincase.

You reach for your chest and find the D-ring right where it should be – and YANK. The opening shock is as rough as ever, a nice hefty kick in the balls as the straps materialize, the steerable canopy blossoming into reality above your head. The cells have barley inflated, just barely braking your fall and altering your trajectory when your sneakers slam into the gigantic, bleeding eye.

You POP right through like you kicked a rotten pumpkin, the stench exploding over you awful and overpowering. You gag instinctively as you sink up to your knees in the semisolid slush beneath, the horrid creature shuddering and screaming beneath you. You take a deep breath, sucking it far into your diaphragm – and hold.

And then you go to work. The axe comes flashing down in a two-handed blow, cleaving deep into the meat of the massive eyeball. Your axehead rises and falls with frantic energy, your powerful blows thundering through the muck like the proverbial blowtorch through magnesium. Once you've opened a slit, your clothes dripping with fetid flesh and lumps of clotted blood, you steel yourself -

- and dive in.

>>34196422
>FROM TOP TO BOTTOM, YOU SHITBAG

Inside the eye, swimming through the slurry of rotting fetus-flesh and black, dead blood, you release the axe and swim down, down, down through the muck, your lungs already burning to bursting, your mind gibbering for release, for safety, for AIR, but you just keep striking out, your hands carving through the matter like steel knives, pulling you deeper without pause. Finally your fingernails scrape against something hard and horny, the back of the socket.

You reach for your belt and draw your second chance, your arming sword – the crowbar.

Your vision is fading as you hoist it in both hands, the thick slurry sludge sucking at your limbs and robbing your momentum. With every last ounce of strength in your body, you bring the crowbar down on the bone.

KOOMPH.

And again.

KOOMPH.

You raise it a third time, your vision fading, consciousness slipping away. With your world narrowing to a single, dark tunnel of thought, its easy to focus, to become the singular being of pure purpose that's needed now.

You already know what will come as you bring the crowbar's sharp, chiseled point down.

KKRAK!

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>>34196924

You come to in the rain.

The stark black sky now roils and rolls with muddy black and grey clouds, a churning deck of the low, heavy weather that likes to squat and stay a while, soaking the earth and flooding out the earthworms. The rain is cold, and fresh, and clean, sharpening your awareness like a cool shower on a hot day.

Madotsuki is hovering above you, her pink umberella propped over her head. She grins and kicks some sand at you.

"You look like shit!" she giggles, her face full of joy.

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>>34197187

Unfortunately I have ANOTHER FUCKING MORNING SHIFT coming at 4AM so I've got to call it here. FORTUNATELY I have tomorrow night free and open for some goddamn quesan so we will resume TOMORROW at 5PM. Be there for the EXCITING AND SUPER AWESOME FINAL ACT OF YUME NIKKI QUEST!

Also, for the opening post of next thread, vote now:

>Aww, you're just saying that.
>... you look worse kid, what the hell
>MADO WHAT THE HEY SHIT FUCK WHOZLEBERRI
>You gotta fuck with her. You can't not fuck with her.

>>34197273
>You gotta fuck with her. You can't not fuck with her.
We gotta tease her a bit

>>34197273
>You gotta fuck with her. You can't not fuck with her.

How can I pass this up?

As always, thanks faggot.

>>34197273
>You gotta fuck with her. You can't not fuck with her.
Not even a question.

>>34197273
>"Who are you and what have you done with the real Mado"
Thanks for the quest faggot

>>34197273
>You gotta fuck with her. You can't not fuck with her.

File: e5450cb6f05fbb2b4f7f7bafe(...).jpg (223 KB, 500x707)

223 KB JPG

>>34197322
>>34197368
>>34197374

As always, its a great pleasure to run it. This quest is the only thing I've been looking forward too recently.

Tomorrow should be fucking amazing.

>>34197273
>Aww, you're just saying that.
Thanks for running. See you tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it.

>>34197273
>You gotta fuck with her. You can't not fuck with her.