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You notice now that she is an older woman, not as her attire suggests. Is it normal for people to have yellow eyes?

“Where are my manners? You may call me Agatha. My master and I are residents of this place. You will be introduced to him shortly. I assume you brought us your ticket.”

She reaches a gloved hand behind your ear and like a magician pulls out an iridescent ticket, tucking it into her jacket pocket.

”Pick any seat, he will begin shortly.”

Without another word, the oddly photogenic woman steps upstairs and away in an instant.

You make your way into the seating, navigating the rows and columns until you settle on one.

The lights slowly dim until you are unable to see anything around you and the beautiful music is drowned out by the acoustic incompetence of a film projector someplace behind you. The light that fills the room is blue, coating everything, as if it was all being saved up for the show.

On the silver screen, staring back at you as though you were the only show here, is an odd looking type of gent with a most inhuman shape. He addresses you directly.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room.”

”My name is Igor. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. It has been quite some time since we have welcomed a guest to this place.”

”This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter…”

“It is a room that only those bound by a contract may enter. It may be that such a fate awaits you.”

”I trust you have already met my assistant, Agatha. It will be her duty to assist you along your journey.”

Suddenly, the long-nosed man pulls to view a deck of long cards, as though made especially for his curiously long hands, and begins to shuffle them without moving his gaze whatsoever.

“Now, let's take a look into your future, shall we? Each reading is done with the same cards, and yet the result is always different.”

“The first card, representing your present is… The Moon, in the upright position. This card represents anxiety and uncertainty.”

“The card representing your imminent future is… The Hierophant, in the upright position. This card represents conformity and convention, determined sets of ways and those within them.”

“The coming year will be a turning point in more than your life alone. We shall attend to the details at a further time. Our time together appears to be coming to an end…”

The chair in front of your seat seems to have a little pull-down table, as one might find on a commercial flight or passenger train. On it is a transcript of all that he has said, as well as some other writing you are unable to reading.

What you do recognize is that bellow it all is the space for a signature. And what would you know? There’s a fountain pen right besides it, already uncapped.

What name do you sign the contract with?

>>5108747
Maya

>>5108747
Victor Yoshikage

>>5108750
Support. Don’t know if we need a full name.

>>5108750
Support

>>5108784
Support.

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Maya Kira

You write it down, and immediately the projection gets caught and burns out in a vivid blue celluloid flame. Before you can even blink, the usherette appears behind you with a flashlight as thick as your forearm and turns it on, engulfing you in a blinding, all-encompassing light all while you hear the woman’s song fade away.

-

BGM: https://voca.ro/1hwz0N6bujOl

You awaken to find you have arrived at your destination—Fuzumaki station.

Your name is [I]Maya Kira[/i]. You are fifteen, as of the nineteenth of January, and your blood type is A, which according to the lifestyle magazines you read is supposed to be a desirable trait or something. Your mother was originally from California, but married your father after they met while teaching abroad. You have never held down any form of employment in your life, part-time or otherwise. You’re a well-behaved child and student, although you are notoriously difficult to wake up. At your last check-up, the only thing they could find was low blood pressure, likely stress-related. You try not to care too much about the affairs of others, but think you could hold your own if dragged into them.

Today is the seventh of April—the beginning of the school year. Every piece of media you have willingly consumed for most of your life has assured you that this is supposed to be some sort of high-point of your natural existence, and that anything after it is better served as some kind of extremely drawn-out footnote. In any case, you’ve made it your intention to survive the whole ordeal in obscurity and worry about the details as they become relevant.

The school in question that you will be attending is the prestigious Yamaku High, a girl’s-only institution. You were formally invited to attend after successfully enduring a school-district sponsored marathon spelling bee in which you apparently made it into the finals and were only eliminated from the bracket on a technicality (passing out mid-sentence.) You don’t actually remember the last four hours of the event, but websites ran with the story, painting it as being 'particularly endearing.’ How embarrassing. It wouldn’t have really mattered if you told your folks you wanted to stay instead. You'd only get a pat on the back, a "don't be so humble," and sent off anyway.

Being a kid.

Growing up.

It's hard.

It's hard, and no-one understands.

You were given an abridged tour of the campus three months ago when you and your parents visited, so you already know where the dorm room with all your stuff will be at. Orientation won’t start until noon. You are invigorated from your recent nap, and have your ignore-the-world earbuds in.

What will you do with your time in the interim?

Find some street food to hold you over until lunch
Stretch your legs out with a leisurely stroll in the park
Go window shopping at the strip mall and remember how poor you are

>>5110009
>Stretch your legs out with a leisurely stroll in the park

>>5110009
>Stretch your legs out with a leisurely stroll in the park

All aboard the STROLL TRAIN

>>5110009
>Stretch your legs out with a leisurely stroll in the park

>>5110009
>Stretch your legs out with a leisurely stroll in the park
Isn't Kira a given name and not a family name? Is she Yoshikage Maya here, then?

>>5110009
>Go window shopping at the strip mall and remember how poor you are

>>5110009
>Find some street food to hold you over until lunch

>>5110009
>Find some street food to hold you over until lunch

>>5110047
Kira is also a family name. At least that’s what google and wikipedia tells me.

>>5110009
>Go window shopping at the strip mall and remember how poor you are
Blue is good I think?

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>>5110146
Maya just wants to live a quiet life, man...

>>5110009
>Find some street food to hold you over until lunch

We hunger for flesh- I mean a burger

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Stretch your legs out with a leisurely stroll in the park

Yeah, you're poor. But conveniently enough, the best things in life are free.

You mosey your way from the station to the park, observing the early morning foot traffic about. Your portable music player shuffles through the thousands of songs you definitely acquired through perfectly legal digital distribution. No mister officer, you’ve never heard of RhymeLyre, is that supposed to be like one of those computer viruses?

You like feeling as though you can perfectly blend into the background. Another face in the crowd. You don’t understand how some people get obsessed about being remembered, even long after they’re gone; wouldn’t being forgotten be more comforting?

Your mind drifts. You remember reading all of the Egyptology picture books in the local library when you were little. You wonder what a contemporary city would look like, from the perspective of an archeologist uncovering it. Would it have any hope to be as beautiful as the New Kingdom, that most exquisite of corpses?

-

You arrive to the sight of the park and it’s cherry blossoms, which are at the tail-end of peak bloom this week. The birds can already be heard, their songs mingling with the chit-chat of parkgoers. Even this early in the morning there are a number of couples out, occupying most of the benches and much of the real estate under the nicest of trees. Steam rising from their beverages make them look slow, aimless locomotives.

Almost perfect silence
To the rocks, the trees are swift
And grass quicker still

You wonder how many of the girls go to Yamaku, and figure it’s likely a fair amount. You’re already in your uniform so you won’t have to worry about changing into it for later. It occurs to you that you probably stick out being on your own like this, singled out from the pairs. You probably look like a spy waiting for some kind of secret briefing at a park bench.

Back home, if you weren’t stuck at school and didn’t just lock yourself up in your room after it, you would just go walking until you couldn’t stand anymore. As such you became intimately familiar with the layout of the town and the shortest distances between places. There wasn’t a spot that existed without your knowing about it. The novelty of a new area was not only in its locations, but it’s potential for optimizing the routes within. How refreshing!

It is at this point in your moseying that you’ve spotted two openings free of the woes and perils of adolescent dating: one is a tree with a good view of the skyline and the other is a lone park bench near a small fountain. Alternatively, you could walk for a while longer, admiring more of the park, and possibly find whatever hot-drink vendor might frequent these parts.

Where will you take your business?

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>>5110849
>Alternatively, you could walk for a while longer, admiring more of the park, and possibly find whatever hot-drink vendor might frequent these parts.
Ah yes, the air... (chew) it feels like a picnic...

>>5110849
>one is a tree with a good view of the skyline

>>5110849
>one is a tree with a good view of the skyline

>>5110849
>one is a tree with a good view of the skyline

>>5110849
>Alternatively, you could walk for a while longer, admiring more of the park, and possibly find whatever hot-drink vendor might frequent these parts.

>>5110849
>Alternatively, you could walk for a while longer, admiring more of the park, and possibly find whatever hot-drink vendor might frequent these parts.

>>5110849
>one is a tree with a good view of the skyline

If all the couples have hot drinks, then certainly we can't -also- have a hot drink.

>>5110849
>Alternatively, you could walk for a while longer, admiring more of the park, and possibly find whatever hot-drink vendor might frequent these parts.

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one is a tree with a good view of the skyline

You make sure your skirt won't hike up awkwardly and avoid any sap before sitting down.

The city almost looks sad from down here. The light against the jagged rows of building tops make you think of the broken teeth of an old man.

You used to try and climb any tree you could when you were little. Mom never let you as long as she was in parenting-range, but that just made you want to do it even more. Dad always covered for you. Said the falling was half the fun.

As your eyes tire of the skyline, they wander to the dance of the petals, twirling in the breeze.

And as they all fall down
They never make a sound
And while they seem to fly around
They're only headed for the ground

-

BGM: https://voca.ro/1oFcyMeWiT5D

. . . is that rustling you hear?

. . . is that rustling you hear directly above your head?[/I]

You immediately cover the top of your head with both arms, a reflex developed ever since the squirrel incident, but what hails from above is no mere animal.

What falls before you—or, more accurately, who—is a girl that looks to be about your age with pale skin, impeccable eyeliner, a vivid red jacket, and the longest head of hair you have ever seen.

You look a little stupid with your arms up like that.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you... see normally, I'm in the trees nobody's under."

She offers a hand to pull you up, and once you're on your feet, you notice the well-worn sketch book wedged under her arm. She looks you over with a sharp smirk.

"Yamaku High, huh? Yeah, you and everyone else. Orientation isn't for a few hours still, but I should probably get headed that way before long, my uniform is with all the rest of my stuff in the dorms. I like having my own style on for as long as possible."

Without quite meaning to, you end up walking alongside and talking to this mysterious girl. She looks like she could end up on album art. Just how are her eyebrows that perfect? And you just now noticed those earrings, too!

"Wanna know how I know you're new around here? You don't have a cup of Musashi's famous hot cider drink, and you aren't being dragged around by a boy with less-than-stellar intentions."

She giggles a little at her own wit before interrupting herself.

"Are you from America? Or, like, one of your parents?"

That sort of question isn't uncommon to hear, given you do look a little different from others. Before you can reply, she continues.

"I'm sorry, I didn't—I probably sound rude, going on and all. It's not everyday I'm chatting someone up like this. My name is Rei, Rei Kikuchi. What's yours? Bet it's nice."

You share your own, but feel she's quietly surprised at its unexotic sound.

"You can ask me any questions you like. About me, about here, whatever. "

What all will you ask her about whilst walking?

>>5111971
>"...How are your eyebrows that perfect?"
>"Seen any interesting things from the trees?"
>"Where are you from? Here?"
Any other questions, anons?

>>5111971
>Why were you in the tree?
>What year are you in?

>>5111971
>"...How are your eyebrows that perfect?"
>Why were you in the tree?
>What year are you in?

>>5108744
>>5110009
>>5111971
Why are all your songs in vocaroo link form and not youtube form?
Should I be doing that when I ever run my quest, OP? Saving song links from online to use in my quest in case youtube kills the links dead?

>>5111971
>The Pillows
Good taste

>>5111990
>>5111995
>>5112001
Supporting

>>5112008
Because Qm has a based taste in music

>>5111990
>>5111995
>>5112001
Let's get those answers.

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"Why were you in the tree?"

"Well, I like to people-watch and do sketches," she says, gesturing towards the art book under her arm, "and there's not a lot else that creeps me out more than people walking up behind me and looking at my work when I don't want them to. Though technically you're not supposed to climb the trees in this park, so . . . " She trails off, eyes looking away from your own.

"See any interesting things from the trees?"

She holds her chin for a moment to show she's thinking about it. "Hm. Nothing atypical. People going about their days, that whole song and dance. If I get to drawing one person in particular, I usually make up a name and a story for them. Oh, I have seen a lot more police coming by the park than usual. Not by very much mind you, instead of one it's been three or four. I can't figure what they'd be bothering doing in a place like this... Maybe some of the couples are going off in the secluded areas and... oh my, that'd be scandalous." Her cheeks grow red at the implication.

"Where are you from? Here?"

"Something like that. I moved here when I was eight. If pressed to call a place home, I'm sure it would be here. If you wanna know about any places to go or avoid, let me know."

"What year are you in?

"Oh, I'm a third year. From the looks of you, I'd say you're a first, would I have that right? That makes you my kouhai, no? Curiouser and curiouser, indeed."

"How are your eyebrows that perfect?"

She bats her eyelashes for the moment it takes her to process so blunt a compliment. Her response is escorted with a smile and a laugh.

"I could show you my routine at some point back at the dorms, if you're dying to find out.

Before you leave the park, an officer flags both of you down.

"Excuse me, ladies. Just a quick question. Have either of you noticed any unusual activity in the park, in either the mornings or evenings?"

You simply explain that you've only just arrived here.

"I've not seen anything out of the ordinary and I'm usually here every day. Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, miss. The city is just following up on some reports, it's probably nothing. You girls be safe. And don't let me catch either of you playing hooky."

With a tip of his hat you quickly part from one another and continue walking out of the park and uphill towards Yamaku High, the purpose of the dorms partially to avoid such a trek being a daily chore on students.

Rei hasn't said anything since the officer left. She's holding the sketchpad under her arm with both hands now. Her breath seems a little shallow, but that could just as much be the inclined walk. You're about half way up at this point and she seems to be caught up in her own little world, as opposed to the chattier Rei of earlier.

Do you let the quiet play it's course, or fill the silence (and if so, what all will you say?)

>>5113165
Fuck. Pretend like the rest of her dialog is in red. My bad.
>>5112008
Because I have songs only available in mp3 form that don't exist anywhere else that I intend to use for this quest, and don't want to go through the pain of uploading them to YouTube.

>>5113165
Ask her where we might find a stall selling hot chocolate

>>5113165
>"So uh... can you show me any of your art?"

>>5113165
>"Is everything alright?"

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"Is everything alright?"

Your question hangs in the air between you for a while, as though she's deliberating whether to dignify it with a response.

"Yeah, I just... I got kinda spooked back there. I thought... this sounds so dumb out loud, but for a moment I thought he might take my sketches for evidence, in case I'd drawn anybody that stood out that they'd be looking for. Just a little shook up is all, I guess. Sorry if I had you worried."

She smiles with her eyes at you, noting the concern.

"So uh... can you show me any of your art?"

She freezes mid walk, making you stop just ahead of her.

"I don't normally share what I draw with anybody, but since it looks like I'm gonna be your senpai and all..."

She opens the middle of the sketch book just a crack, thumbing around a few pages, only identifying the contents with a sliver of light but knowing their place by heart. When she finds what she's looking for, she cracks it wide open, and faces the page towards you against her chest.

It's the skyline you saw earlier that made you feel melancholic and pay attention to the petals. Except it's not that. Despite being in black and white, it seems more vivid and alive than the real thing. The imposing buildings seem almost like pillars of heaven, the architecture of paradise. It's like she set out to draw a miracle out of a mundane thing. You almost wonder if you weren't looking at it wrong somehow.

And before you can form any words, she folds the rest of it back around and tucks it away.

"Can't say I remember the last time I let someone take a peak."

Ask her where we might find a stall selling hot chocolate

As you approach the end of your trek and set foot on campus-proper, you field a less personal question.

"Hm? Well, the cafeteria serves hot chocolate, but they only do that in the winter-time. You could probably get the instant stuff from the commissary, but expect major mark-up, absolutely not for the faint of purse. That goes for everything there. I hear there's an internet café in town that serves it, but that place has it's own baggage."

Rei takes off her red jacket and folds it over her arm.

"Alright, I'm headed for the dorms. You can come with me if you'd like, but you've got time enough to wander the campus for a spell before orientation starts. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, in any case."

Will you continue to follow Rei to the dorms while asking more questions, investigate the aforementioned outrageous commissary and it's denizens, or arrive at the auditorium preemptively and potentially meet some other early-birds?

>>5114364
>arrive at the auditorium preemptively and potentially meet some other early-birds
Early arrival is always good

>>5114364
>investigate the aforementioned outrageous commissary and it's denizens

>>5114364
Oh hey it's that school from Katawa Shoujo

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>>5114364
>investigate the aforementioned outrageous commissary and it's denizens

You had me at 'OUTRAGEOUS', QM.

>>5114442
inb4 pic is our obligatory Persona Best Bud party member

>>5114364
>arrive at the auditorium preemptively and potentially meet some other early-birds

>>5114364
>arrive at the auditorium preemptively and potentially meet some other early-birds?

>>5114364
>arrive at the auditorium preemptively and potentially meet some other early-birds

>>5114364
>investigate the aforementioned outrageous commissary and it's denizens

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arrive at the auditorium preemptively and potentially meet some other early-birds

You part from Rei with a shared wave, and mosey yourself across the campus and toward the auditorium.

When you arrive you see the many rows and columns of folding chairs already set out and sparsely populated with the aforementioned early-birds, usually clustered in groups of two or greater, chatting away and sitting as best to face one another.

You space out as you seem to walk on your own. The sizable room, the number of largely empty seats, it's evoking a memory you feel like you don't even have. Like you were in a place like this not so long ago. But when would that have been exactly? You try not to meditate too hard on the matter.

BGM: https://vocaroo.com/1fY52MDl7Hxi

The only person that doesn't have someone sitting near them is a girl who might tactfully be referred to as "petite." Except you wouldn't know she was alone unless you were looking right at her because she is talking to herself out loud at normal conversational volume like all of the others in the mostly empty building.

Actually, there's a little more to it than that.

At first you thought she was listening to one of those old cassette players, but you realize after a moment that she's talking into it—that she's in fact recording herself in an exaggerated and almost showy fashion.

"—certain to investigate rumors after orientation, but before the start of class-proper tomorrow. And avoid at all costs the A-cup villainy that runs the concentration camp they dare to pawn off as a respectable school business—"

She glances up and clicks a red button with a most satisfying tactical sound all but extinct in contemporary consumer electronics, dropping it in her open bag on the ground. Locking eyes now, she pats the metal chair besides her. You can't help but feel obligated to take the quiet offer.

"It's overcast out. Just a little."

She stares at you for a moment, as if what she's implying is supposed to be obvious. Right as you start to open your mouth, she clarifies.

"Weatherman didn't say overcast. He said rain. Too little clouds to even have a chance of raining later. Brought the ol' umbrella for nothing."

She cocks her head to the side, to the collapsed Silver Samurai branded umbrella by her bag, sword hilt handle and all.

"I don't know about you, but if I got paid that kind of money for being wrong more than half of the time, it'd beat working in a maid café."

She extends a hand, offering a firm, business-like handshake.

"Kasumi, Kasumi Sato. You don't look like you're from around here exactly... you're kinda tall-ish, y'know? What's your name? Got a story? C'mon, deeeeeetz!"

What will you tell her, and what will you talk to her about before orientation starts?

>>5115851
Tell her our name and where we come from then ask who and what she is recording for.

>>5115851
>give name, it's only fair, confirm our new arrival status and maybe ask why she got a recording device

>>5115928
>>5116021
+1

>>5116021
>>5115928
yes, these

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give name, it's only fair, confirm our new arrival status and maybe ask why she got a recording device

You introduce yourself and explain the whole situation to the girl, spelling bee and all. She nods along and punctuates her attention with a lot of uh-huh's and right's.

"So wait, that was you? I haven't actually watched the video, but I remember when people were sharing the link everywhere. That's pretty choice, though I can see how that'd get annoying quick, especially since it wasn't something you wanted to get popular intentionally. Oh well, not the kinda thing you can just force."

You gesture toward her bag and ask what the ordeal with the tape recorder was about. She quirks a brow at the inquiry.

"Just an audio diary. I used to write but it's not as fast and I forget way too much that way. This way I can access it whenever I'm free, drop of my thoughts off like dry-cleaning, and get right back to my business after. The reason I don't just use my phone is because it saves battery and my dad would go nuts if he couldn't get to me. Well, that and . . . "

Kasumi glances around suspiciously and leans in to whisper. You can tell she had curry for breakfast, which reminds you that you yourself skipped breakfast this morning and are now feeling the consequences (light headedness, et cetera)

"Digital records are so much easier to manipulate, times as they are . . . you can never be too careful."

She pulls back and folds her arms, looking you over as if judging what you've told her thus far and considering your overall worth.

"I'm gonna level with you, Mai-Tai. I'm not the kind of person that's easy to be friends with. Amicable as I am, my taste for truth knows no binds, borders, or boundaries. I crave it like the needle. Which means the people around me can get caught up in the consequences of that, by those that would stunt our very understanding of the world. Know this ahead of time, if you intend to keep on knowing me."

Her tone exudes "it's lonely at the top, but you can't beat the view". She sounds like one of those western comic book characters monologging their mission-statement. What even is a Mai-Tai?

"As your soon-to-be fellow classmate I can only recommend we explore this line of conversation together after the formalities, if at all. Might not be safe to elaborate here anyways... One never really knows who is listening and how, now does one?"

You get the sneaking suspicion this girl has spent far too many late nights drinking soda and watching reruns of detective serials.

The rest of the conversation is almost suspiciously casual, like she's trying to throw off some kind of verbal bloodhound with certain keywords. You play along accordingly and it goes swimmingly, if her winking is supposed to be any indication.

The rest of the students file-in, like the steady trickle of melting ice, until all are accounted for and seated.

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The welcoming ceremony is self-explanatory enough. A great many proverbs are recounted by the principal, which remind you of fortune-cookies and thusly American Chinese food, not making the length of it any less arduous.

The whole orientation is rife with theatre and ostentation. You're reminded just how prestigious this school actually is, and that your unexpected acceptance into it is not necessarily afforded to everyone. It occurs to you that if your reputation were to be marred enough, that it might mean an expulsion that could have serious consequences on you for the rest of your natural life.

-

After the ceremony, students are instructed to check the bulletin-boards to find what homeroom they'll be posted in for the year. You find your name with a “Mrs.Watanabe,” in B-7. You enter the room just long enough to get acquainted. Nice enough lady.

Before you leave, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, is it true that you were walking here with Rei? The third year?

You nod, explaining you were both headed the same way whilst leaving the park.

”Oh, okay. So you know each other, then?”

You’re not exactly sure what’s being got at, and explain you only just met her in the park on accident.

”Gotcha. I was just wondering is all.”

She turns around and calls for her friend’s attention before walking off and away from you.

-

Your dorm is as you expected: with all of your packed things in one corner with the rest of the room being fairly pedestrian. There’s a desk, a desktop computer, a miniature television at the most god-awful angle and height in the top leftmost corner of the room, a radio which doubles as an alarm clock, a monolithic dresser, and a bed with with some folded sheets that smell like they were fumigated a week ago but haven’t entirely off gassed just yet.

This is home, for a spell at least. A long spell. A damn long spell.

You gradually unpack your things and slowly figure out how you’ll be setting up your accommodations.

The television plays a mix of local public broadcast and public-domain (or otherwise extremely cheap to license) movies. In lieu of commercials, banner advertisements play at the bottom of the screen every ten minutes like it’s a sports game. Today reads:

“Welcome new students! — Lunch will be served today at 2:15pm — Books and films alike can be rented from the school library — Okay now put the part about looking for someone to read the announcements why are you writing that down don’t write th”

You make your bed and put your folded clothes into the dresser. You check the computer and find it’s running an old but stable version of DoorKun OS Education Edition (complete with it’s iconic default wallpaper) and that it’s connected to the school network already, complete with an assorted suite of pre downloaded software and bookmarks.

What will you do before lunch in an hour?

>>5117209
Take a bath I guess and then scan through the computer for anything interesting.

>>5117209
Search the room for anything out of the place or eye catching (probably nothing) then do this >>5117353

>>5117209
>Visit the commisary

>>5117209
>Check out the computer software and links!

Made me laugh with that announcement, QM. Kudos.

>>5117209
>Check out the computer software and links!

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>>5117353
>>5117504
+1

>>5117209
>DoorKun OS Education Edition
I love this quest now

>>5117353
Supporting

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Search the room for anything out of the place or eye catching

You do you best to sleuth about in the off chance there's any spare change or batteries, but all you end up finding is a half-bent business card. It's tastefully thick card-stock and feels nice in the hand with a rough texture. Font choice is pretty bland though. And of course in the center is the silhouette of a fairy reclining on a crescent moon like a lounge chair, outlined in navy blue.

Pixie Pawn
"Where a deal is a deal, no matter the cost!"™

You flip it around and see there's a note in immaculate script on the other side, smudged slightly.

You can launch a rocket into space; you cannot launch it into heaven.

Huh.

-

Check out the computer software and links!

You get into the well-worn desk chair that squeaks with even the slightest movement and investigate the desktop in further detail. You see that whatever scrub they did of the computer couldn't have gotten everything, because there's still a shortcut for Innocent Sin Online on here (though it has otherwise been uninstalled.)

The websites bookmarks aren't anything to write home about, let alone recant to yourself. It's the usual assortment. There is however a bookmark for a website with math-games which feels entirely out of place in a high-school setting. You may or may not take ten minutes to play.

Otherwise, you find a there's an offline archive of the top frequently referenced Infopedia articles in academic sources, a complete office suite, a calendar with pre-made templates for various lifestyles, and a video player without any video files (likely for playing rented DVDs from the library).

. . .

You install RhymeLyre and hook up your music player to the computer to sync it up, leaving it there on the desk.

-

Take a bath

The bathroom is small and clean, and you can find no rust, corrosion, or drips to speak of. The water is hot and the pressure is consistent, but you grant these latter two qualities probably have to do with the odd time of day you've chosen to bathe. You decide to treat yourself and use a little bit of the special bubble bath solution your mom gifted you for your birthday. You make an elaborate foam beard for yourself and by the end of the twenty minute soak the scent of vanilla and jasmine has made you forget about the most useless of your nagging cares and woes, if only for a time.

When you step out of the billowing steam of the bathroom with your hair wrapped up in a towel, the air is as fresh and crisp as a cracker. Sleep now could never be called mere sleep, but slumber. The kind of lie-down where you won't have to worry about forgetting to dream.

But no. Not now. Not yet. There are places to be, and food yet to be eaten.

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Visit the commissary

You approach a metal door propped open by a stack of beat-up, obsolete textbooks, and see a room of empty shelving being gradually filled up by the business of exactly two bodies working in tandem. The one with the glasses seems to keep bumping into things, and the other keeps stopping to take time to course-correct her from further bumpage. You seem to be stepping into the crescendo of a longer, deeper conversation.

“ . . . magic of theatre is how you can you can be someone complete different on the stage from who you are off of it, the kind of girl that could kiss another girl and not even have it phase them!”

“Kairi, there is not the slightest instance of kissing in Waiting for Godot.”

“It’s called adlibbing!”

“You’re gonna be in the costume department.”

“Then i’m helping you practice!”

“I’m on lighting crew.”

“It’s… symbolic!”

“You’re somehow less coherent than when I found you on Benadryl in front of Featherman reruns.”

In a flurry that’s hard to follow and even harder to transcribe, harsh words are exchanged that you’re sure would mean even more with greater context, the hyper spartan subtly going way over your head. Eventually they quiet down and glasses—Kairi—is in the arms of the other, having her back rubbed like a sick child in a vapo-rub commercial. Her face is visibly burning with hot, peculiar shame, and despite directly facing you, she doesn’t seem to register you exist—thus explaining the coke-bottle lenses.

Her sobbing sounds like a car stalling. She mumbles a nondescript something about chauvinists. The other wipes her face with a t-shirt from a box.

“Look at me. If you get the rest of this batch set up on your own—doesn’t have to be all, but some of it—I’ll bring lunch up to your room. And we can talk for as long as you want about the male gaze over fried chicken and kung fu movies.”

Ooo! They’re serving fried ch—FOCUS, MAYA

“C-could we talk about the internet demons?”

Delivered with the sincerity of a child.

“Of course. You can show me all that stuff. I know you’ve been saving up a whole lecture for me about that.”

Delivered with the patience of a saint.

You should probably pretend like you’re only just coming upon this scene and noise, calling ahead…

“Anyone in here?”

” . . . just a heads up! Lunch line is starting to look like the Oregon Trail!”
” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”
” . . . I heard the commissary was understaffed, do you need help?”

>>5118482
>” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”

>>5118482
>” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”
Gotta start with the important questions

>>5118482
>” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”
We’re going to be the cocoa monster

>>5118482
>” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”

>>5118482
>” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”
I'm loco for-a-dee cocoa

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>>5118482
>” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”
Man imagine Kenji/Kairi and Hisao/??? having a feminine wine party with pastries and blankets on a rooftop during a late night, then stuff happens...

>>5118482
>. . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”

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” . . . I heard the commissary was open soon, do you sell that insta-cocoa?”

You field ol' reliable, the innocuous line of inquiry that has never failed you yet: you casually ask about something to do with hot chocolate beverage.

Immediately Kairi perks up at the sound of another voice and, half-composed, nearly trips as she rushes to get behind the counter. Her voice and the voice of her friend speak together, but hardly in unison.

"We're open!"
"We're closed."

Kairi's friend stares daggers at her, but you doubt she can even see that.

"What my colleague means to say is that, despite still setting up for the start of this semester, we are more than willing to conduct transactions at this time if you are willing to pay accordingly."

There is a long, sustained sigh from the friend, like someone kicked her in the heart with a dirty boot.

Focusing now on the room and not those inside of it, you see in the open boxes and half-empty shelves a great many item: stationary, duct tape, q-tips, toothpaste, assorted canned drinks, instant coffee, bottom-shelf instant ramen, top-shelf instant ramen, mouthwash, et cetera. If you could buy it at a summer camp, a newspaper stand, or a hole-in-the-wall, it's probably here in one manner or another.

You recall on your tour here a few months ago it being explained to you that as much activity on campus that could be reasonably handed off to the student body to perform usually was, which at the time sounded like a funny cost-saving measure for such a well-off school, but now sounds like a brilliant bit of psychology for having students be more engaged with their peers and a funny cost-saving measure.

Additionally there are no vending machines on the campus for this reason, meaning it's a long trek and a steep hill between you and something cheaper elsewhere. Consequently this means contraband (most notably alcohol) is pretty much unheard of to be found, let alone kicked out for.

"Haruhi, do we have any of that in stock yet?"

"Uh, no. Still stocking up on essentials first. We can expedite it though, get it thrown in earlier."

You are handed a clipboard and pen to put down the requested item, kind of like when you request a book at a library and they don't have it. You write at the top of the new page, "Melville Insta-Cocoa". You do not know if they account for branding or not.

Thinking on your feet, before handing the clip-board back, you put down an item on the next line.

"Marshmallows, incl. small, medium, large variants (plz)"

You hand the clipboard back to Haruhi who hands it back to Kairi. If you didn't know she was blind, you'd say she was smelling the ink.

"This is a new record. Not even fully operational and we've got requests. This will be a landmark year, Haruhi!"

What will you do here before leaving here for the delights of a fried chicken lunch?

>>5119846
Ask which year they are from

>>5119846
I can’t really think of anything

>>5120041
+1, I bet Kairi here shitposts anonymously on 2ch one hundred percent. And Haruhi Nakai (not Suzumiya thank fuck) here might just have a secret affinity for crippled guys...

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Ask which year they are from

When you ask the girls look at each other, and Haruhi speaks.

"You must be new, we're second years; we were running the commissary last year as well when the position became empty."

"And it's never been run better!"

"It's a little difficult with just us though, so if you're in the neighborhood with time to kill, you could deliver orders on-campus for us, we might even have something in it for you."

You are able to poke out in their bickering as you all walk towards the cafeteria that these two are in all likelihood cousins, which might help to explain the almost telepathic connection they seem to have working together (or going against each other.)

-

The line for lunch is a long and winding one, and not for the faint of heart. But only a coward would forego the journey. It's a span of time before you're able to mosey your tray near the servers, but your patience is rewarded with miso, rice, cucumber salad, and of course the delicious Karaage fried chicken (served with a wedge of lemon, as god intended.)

You notice however that once you are out of the insidious length of the line, that at the other end of it, the seating is quickly being taken up without many openings left.

You may be able to wiggle your way in with some people you've met prior to now . . .

The mysterious, artistic senpai of impeccable aesthetic, Rei Kikuchi
The dual-destinies of the dynamic second years Kairi and Haruhi Nakai
The fellow first-year seeker of truth and probable otaku, Kasumi Sato

>>5120850
>The mysterious, artistic senpai of impeccable aesthetic, Rei Kikuchi
There is a chance we'll see more of Kasumi in class and we just did Kairi and Haruhi

>>5120850
>The mysterious, artistic senpai of impeccable aesthetic, Rei Kikuchi

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>>5120850
>The line for lunch is a long and winding one, and not for the faint of heart.
Like this "Master of Romance" Haruhi Nakai girl? :^)
>served with a wedge of lemon, as god intended
I can imagine Maya Kira going the Law route and God/YHVH tells her she's wrong to her face
>The mysterious, artistic senpai of impeccable aesthetic, Rei Kikuchi
A redhead that does art? Sounds like a certain somebody...

>>5120850
>the mysterious, artistic senpai of impeccable aesthetic, Rei Kikuchi

Like anon said, we'll probably bump into the others later.

>>5120850
>The fellow first-year seeker of truth and probable otaku, Kasumi Sato
I like how weird she is

>>5120850
>>5120850
>The mysterious, artistic senpai of impeccable aesthetic, Rei Kikuchi
Gotta get our street cred by being senpai's favorite.

>>5120850
>The fellow first-year seeker of truth and probable otaku, Kasumi Sato

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The mysterious, artistic senpai of impeccable aesthetic, Rei Kikuchi

https://vocaroo.com/1iwA4M8Synji

You spot the tree-climbing third year sitting at a table on her own, mindlessly picking at her tray with very little actual eating. You would anticipate a girl with her looks, fashion sense, and seniority to immediately have a table of peers, lackeys, and confidants, but apparently not. You chalk it up to a matter of shyness: an artist's sensitive soul. You don't expect a girl with all that going for her to also be a social butterfly: that'd just be cheating.

As you approach, she double-takes on your getting closer, her countenance lighting up like a Christmas tree. Her posture straightens a bit, unconsciously wanting to set a good example while no longer being isolated.

"Hey, Maya! How was orientation? I want to hear all about it!"

You sit across from her and explain all of what happened to you while opening your juice carton.

You talk about how when you got to the auditorium you ran into a girl the same year as you monologging and talking about the weather and truth, and then you went to your room and took an exquisite bubble-bath for a while, and finally how you found the commissary and got to chat up it's clerks who walked with you to the cafeteria.

Rei seems thoroughly engaged in your telling her all of this, to the point of ignoring her food even more than before, elbows on the table and hands on her cheeks as she learns forward with intent listening.

"You sound like you're doing really well for yourself on your first day, I'm so happy to hear that. I'd be careful around the Nakai's though, specifically Kairi, although wherever one is the other can't be very far behind. Haruhi is nice enough, level-headed. But if you say the wrong thing around Kairi, it's lectures for days, very... political lectures. My grandma always said, wait to die before you go to hell."

She giggles at her own reference, and starts eating some of her own food at last, giving you an opening to eat as well.

In a word, the meal in superb (in terms of both company and food) and certainly better than anything you know how to make yourself. You have an extremely high metabolism, even for a teenage girl, but if you're not careful you could see yourself gaining some unwanted weight in a place like this.

-

You notice out of the periphery of your vision a table of girls spying you both, and giggling quietly to themselves. You recognize one of them as the one that tapped your shoulder in Ms.Watanabe's class. Rei is talking aimlessly at this point.

"Things are still being accounted for, being the first day and all. There isn't necessarily much to do on the campus until further notice, but it should be in full order by the end of the week . . . "

There's a silence. Rei's gaze is stony toward you.

"There's been rumors floating around, mostly among first years.”

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”They all say something a little different, but they get back to the same idea. That there’s some kind of spam email making the rounds with a long-winded copy-and-paste story about how the end of the world was narrowly avoided in the year 2000, but that it couldn’t be held back forever, and that the “golden apple of discord” has already escaped and is multiplying the chaos in the world by the hour . . . attached to the emails, naturally, is a copy of the very thing itself: a ‘demon summoning program’.”

”An executable that was originally written in 1984 by an unknown software engineer with the goal of condensing a myriad of complex occult rituals, cross-reference them with each other, and reduce multiple lifetime’s worth of arcane knowledge into a rudimentary command line interface.”

She refrains to take a bite of chicken with some rice, as if talking about this has famished her.

”The problem was, you needed a mainframe to have a snowball’s chance in hell to run it. But as Moore’s law marched on and backwards compatibility was kept . . .”

She drifts off for a moment.

”They say if just anybody opens it, it shows them the dark obsidian horror in their own heart, like a mirror, and that if they can’t look into its eyes and see its themselves, they’ll fall into a coma there’s no chance of coming out of. Or worse.”

She pauses for a moment, the silence thick enough to cut cut into squares and spread on pancakes.

”Of course, none of that’s true. The program does nothing of the sort. Pfffft. Are you kidding? It’s just looking for useful personal information, which it sends back to it’s creator through some relays, and replicates itself, using the victim’s email to spread more of itself to their contacts list. Terribly smart, that.”

Rei sips her milk carton, a small smile returning to her face.

”If you see any messages of the sort in your school inbox, just ignore it, no matter how many times you get it, ‘kay?”

-

When the two of you have finished eating, you leave the cafeteria together.

”There’s a lot of daylight left, and not a lot that demands our attention, at least any that’s school-related. Is there anything you’d like to do in particular?”

Go back with Rei to her dorm
Head into town with Rei for a tour
Part from Rei and return to your room

>>5122078
>Head into town with Rei for a tour
You can bet your ass we're totally looking this program once we get back home, though. Who knows--maybe we could become some of.... Devil Summoner!

Or it'll just steal our SSN.

>>5122078
>Head into town with Rei for a tour

>>5122232
+1, if we do get the DSP we can easily turn this into SMT If...

>>5122078
>Part from Rei and return to your room

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Head into town with Rei for a tour

You tell Rei that you think you'd like to see a bit more of downtown, and she concurs, saying it'd be valuable to know as much of it as early as possible. The two of you begin walking toward the gate that leads off of the campus, and Rei pulls out her cellphone, giving a very terse call you didn't make out at all.

"Just got us a ride, you don't want to have to walk if you can help it."

After fifteen minutes, a car that is old enough to run for elected office pulls up beside the gate. The window rolls down and Rei chats up the driver, who is a freckled American woman, no question. The interior's scent is a potpourri of tobacco, perfume, and dumplings.

While you sit in the back, Rei calls shotgun, and chatters away with the American woman at eight miles a minute and you are getting absolutely none of it. Your mother tried to teach you English. Once. You make out the word "teahouse" being thrown around a bit, though.

"I'm sorry–Maya, this is Zoey, she's a foreign exchange student at the college. We were pen-pals years ago–"

Zoey says something, and they share an intense laughter.

"–anyway, we can get to just about anywhere with her that doesn't require an ID, and that pretty much opens up the whole city–anywhere that matters, that is. We just ate, so we won't check out any places to eat; anyplace you heard of you want to see? Don't worry about money."

Visit the local shrine
Visit the Internet Café
Visit Pixie Pawn

>>5123403
>Visit Pixie Pawn
Gotta know where to drop the hot merch

>>5123432
+1

>>5123403
>Visit the Internet Café

>>5123403
>Visit Pixie Pawn

>>5123403
>Visit the Internet Café

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Visit Pixie Pawn

Rei seems surprised you've heard of it.

"Didn't take you as someone who went antiquing. We'll go, and if something catches your eye, we can see about getting it. Think of it like a house-warming gift.

The car's suspension is surprisingly smooth for its age and the cruise down hill and through the streets is an enjoyable and orderly one. Foot traffic is up in general given its the afternoon and not morning, although you notice there's a crowd of onlookers forming around what looks to be a rudimentary police barricade to the park. Either Rei and Zoey don't notice or make a point of not appearing to notice. Their banter, while still quick, is yet quieter now.

-

https://vocaroo.com/19PnIav11cEm

The shop itself is a cavalcade of items that once upon a time were likely treasured dearly by their owners before money became an issue. The window facing outward has a mustard yellow neon sign of a little tinker-bell fluttering her wings, and the slogan you read on the card painted on the window's glass, along with a list of sought items.

- W A T C H E S - A N T I Q U E S - C O I N S - C A M E R A S - E L E C T R O N I C S - C U R I O S -

You wonder for a moment what kind of business survives when one of its constituent products is "curios", but then you suppose money takes all kinds and creeds. It seems the building itself is certainly one of the older ones in the area, probably all of downtown, as the brick exterior seems to suggest. Even the lighting on the interior seems warmer than usual, and sure enough, you see it's using old incandescent bulbs. You thought most cities phased those out ages ago . . . in some cases, even outlawing them.

Although you see no one to either greet you nor deter you from making off like a literal bandit, you get the feeling you three are all being watched extremely closely, despite the utter lack of any visible security cameras. You wonder how a place like this could have insurance, and conclude it likely does not, at least in any capacity that would be legally recognized as such.

You turn around, and notice Rei and Zoey are already gone, one looking at a stack of dusty tomes and the other a set of old matchlock rifles and tobacco pipes.

You notice as well, focusing, the very faint sound of a radio playing someplace in the building. Simultaneously you notice there is a back room separate from the one labelled "EMPLOYEES ONLY", instead saying "VIP"

Look at the display case and behind-the-counter items
Touch the 'ring for service' bell
Wear one of the old cowboy hats: this is your new life now

>>5124744
>Wear one of the old cowboy hats: this is your new life now
The choice here is obvious

>>5124744
>Wear one of the old cowboy hats: this is your new life now
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_RiMVupDCY

>>5124744
Look at the display case and behind-the-counter items

>>5124744
>Look at the display case and behind-the-counter items

>>5124744
>Touch the ‘ring for service’ bell

>>5124744
>>Look at the display case and behind-the-counter items

>>5124744
>Look at the display case and behind-the-counter items
Wear one of the old cowboy hats: this is your new life now

>>5124744
>Look at the display case and behind-the-counter items

QM's late......
Hopefully not dead though

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Apologies for the slight delay

Look at the display case and behind-the-counter items

Neither you nor the world are ready for full-frontal yee-haw, and thus you have spared both.

Perusing over the more interesting and valuable items of the pawn, your eyes focus on a select three: a wooden training sword, a well-worn helmet, and a cane most exquisite.

https://voca.ro/1gHB6um7FHY5

"Much to do, yet so little time . . . be not afraid. For time is all you have been afforded. The gate remaineth shut."

. . . that certainly wasn't you. Though, it seems to have been from inside of you.

The voice returns, yet stronger. You feel darkness, like an empty stage, and you're only in the smallest of spotlights, colored like the immaculate stained glass of a cathedral.

"Choose wisely. Which form will thoust power take, and which form will thou discard: indomitable courage and terrible destruction, impenetrable armor and horrible strength, or secrets of wonder and ruin?

The words echo inside of you. You feel like a pond with ripples going through it.

Which will ye take, and which will ye discard?

>>5126051
Take
>wooden training sword

Discard
>well-worn helmet

>>5126051
>Take Cane

>Discard helmet

>>5126051
Errr, does this mean we get two and lose one? Because I'm leaning towards keeping

>SWORD

And leaving

>HELMET

Because once we get Debilitate or Fog Breath we gonna be bulletproof, baby

>>5126084
You choose one, you lose one, and the remainder will appear elsewhere down the line.

>>5126051
>Take SWORD
>Discard HELMET

>>5126051
Take
wooden training sword
Discard
cane most exquisite

>>5126051
We KH now.

Take
>wooden training sword

Discard
>cane most exquisite

Terribly destruction + horrible strength sounds pretty rad.

>>5126051
TAKE sword
DISCARD cane

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In your heart, you take the wooden training sword and discard the well-worn helmet.

"With this, thou hast gained a bravery unbending, but a power most foul; and thou has cast off a hideous strength, but have lost protection from all. What remains, neither plundered nor sacrificed by ye, are the many secrets enciphered by the souls of men. The troubles very near have taken forms seen and unseen. Greater are shadows still when closest to light. Thou wilt cast open the gate."

Your brain feels like play dough being squeezed through the eye and ear holes of a Mr.Potatohead. The way the sound reflects from inside of you starts to make you feel a little sick, like a diver under the surface of water for too long. You might actually throw up, don't do anything too fast now.

Suddenly, you're back in the shop at the front counter. There's a girl behind the counter with short red hair, but unlike Zoey, she is without freckles as well as being so pale she almost appears to be glowing. Her eyes are cutting, but not in a careless sort of way: they are scalpels, precision tools demanded by yet more precise minds. She's wearing a school uniform, but it doesn't belong to Yamaku. Her name tag reads as, "Ms.Fae".

"Salutations. I take it the bamboo blade here is to your liking?"

Her voice reminds you of your mom's glazed carrots, and getting lost on a trail, and a good song on a bad day. You didn't say a word but suppose you were probably fixated enough to give your interest away. Still, when did she get there? You didn't ring the bell, and don't feel you could've been that transfixed.

Already Rei is behind you and is reaching in her pocket-book. Zoey emerges from behind the 'VIP' curtain and stands on the other side of you. What is given to Ms.Fae is not yen, nor do you think it's bullion or American dollars or some kind of odd barter. This entire exchange that's going on is wordless. You feel like she only spoken to make this movement seem less . . . premeditated?

The voice inside you speaks again in a decidedly red tone.

"Beware, ye tyrant! Beware, ye fool! For who is the master, and who is the tool?

You open your mouth but feel like your voice is being pulled down like bungee-cords to hell. The wooden training sword is handed over the counter unceremoniously with light wrapping to obfuscate it while carrying it outdoors. Before you're gently pushed outside, Ms.Fae says something again.

"For the transaction of curios, buying or selling, we are always open."

Rei puts the sword in the trunk to avoid carrying it around. Your voice has returned to you momentarily, and you take a shaky breath.

"You could hang that up in your room . . . or maybe keep it under your bed, from prying eyes. Those things are no joke. So! Someplace else, then?"

Write-in for this one, have a riot

>>5127813
>>5127815
>THE LOCAL ARCADE

>>5127813
>Rei's recommendation

>>5127813
Wherever the boys hangout

>>5127815
>>5127813
backing >>5128252

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THE LOCAL ARCADE, Rei's recommendation, & wherever the boys hangout

Coincidentally, all three of these lead to the same place: Fuzumaki's hottest hangout, the Game Corner!

"Oh, that'd be perfect! There's so much to do there!"

In the strip mall that reminds you how poor you are, there is an arcade that reminds you of how bad at games you are and why you relegate yourself to just watch others play them on the internet on the internet. Well, that and the being poor thing.

An ulterior motive to your asking as that you want to check out the local boy scene, because the ones that already have girlfriends don't count. In all likelihood, are you ready to be dating whatsoever? The short answer is no, and the long answer is hell no. But like a moth to a dumpster fire, you near all the same.

The building and its interior makes you think of a casino that's in its larval state. At the counter just past the entrance you all get some tokens, and Rei goes off with Zoey, the latter apparently intending to get enough tickets in ski-ball to win a large stuffed creature of indeterminate make.

Where will you play first?

The Silver Samurai arcade cabinet
The pachinko machine
The claw game

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>>5129251
>The claw game
Something about the pachinko machine is not very nice... As if it's very existence can corrupt big game companies...

>>5129251
>The claw game

>>5129251
>Silver Samurai
The others are just lame coinsinks

>>5129251
>The Silver Samurai arcade cabinet

>>5129251
>on the internet on the internet.
Doubled your words here.

>>5129251
>The Silver Samurai arcade cabinet

>>5129251
>The Silver Samurai arcade cabinet

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The Silver Samurai arcade cabinet

The machine is surprisingly unattended. You remember when it first came out and the arcade back home couldn't fit enough kids in the building without calling the fire marshal. Newer titles have likely usurped it.

While you aren't any good at video games, let alone fighting games, you have a soft spot for Silver Samurai, namely the iconic character designs. You usually pick Shenhua because you like her qipao dress.

As soon as you step up and put in some tokens, you feel someone walk right up beside you, putting their own down on the controls.

"Wow, been a while since I've seen someone at this cabinet. Do you want to go a game or two? I'm a little rusty."

holyshitaboyistalkingtoyouaproprosofnothingwhatdo

The voice inside of you speaks and you have to will yourself not to get sick because of it.

"Thou hast the unrelenting means to secure a victory this day, but not without its cost, be its price known now or later."

No mercy!
Mercy!
He can have a little bit of mercy, as a treat!

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>>5130540
>No mercy!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CL_LLpyM2sE
Wait, this is the wrong time for THAT kind of thing

>>5130540
>No mercy!

>>5130540
>No MERCY!
When a meek-looking, glasses-wearing anime dude claims to be 'a bit rusty', 9 times outta 10 he's gonna go SICKO MODE

>>5130540
>He can have a little bit of mercy, as a treat!

>>5130540
>He can have a little bit of mercy, as a treat!

>>5130540
>He can have a little bit of mercy, as a treat!

Under the weather, post will be later today; sorry folks

>>5132225
It's cool

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No mercy!

The boy puts in the required tokens and on character select chooses an alternative color Akao, the shoto of this game, which means your matchup with Shenhua should lean in your favor.

The first game comes and goes on the jungle stage, his timings aren't optimal and you're able to exploit a gap in his combos that leaves him wide open for a win. The second round goes similarly, but he's able to defend and it evens out to a draw. By the third round you're on even footing but manage to parry with health so thin you're not actually able to see it on your bar.

Wait, is that your heart? Feels like a weasel trying to claw its way out of your ribcage. And you're breathing kinda funny. Been a while since you've been so "into" a something. This feels weirdly primal.

You remember the boy is still there and glance over. His glasses obscure his eyes and he's blushing slightly.

"That . . . How often do you play?"

You explain you usually spectate and only really play on your own.

"Look don't lie to my face like that."

The confusion on your face must convince him, because it doesn't take long for him to believe you.

"Hey, could we go another round or two? I've got the tokens. I'll buy you a soda for the trouble."

You enthusiastically agree. You notice as he steps away that your face feels hot, and a bit sweaty, which makes you feel red. When he returns with drink you drink almost half of it, not realizing how thirsty you were. The boy introduces himself as Akira, and you share your name.

Before you know it, a dozen rounds have passed and your brain feels like it was being used as someone's lower back support. Although you suspect Akira might feel even more chewed up as he's leaning slightly on the cabinet. He won more games than you, but it looks like it was all-hands-on-deck for him too.

Suddenly he looks at his watch and runs a hand through his messy hair, muttering something under his breath.

"We, uh, we do Silver Samurai tournaments on the weekends, have a whole bracket. Not a lot of girls. Well, just one actually. But you're really good, and if you don't play much like you said, you could probably get better. If that sorta thing interests you, consider yourself cordially invited by one of the event organizers. We could even practice together if you'd like."

You feel a faint bond between you and Akira forming . . .

Tell him you'll be in the neighborhood
Give him your email
Give him your digits

>>5133961
>Give him your email
Personal number is... somewhat special for a girl, you know? Or so they say

>>5133961
>Give him your email
He's gotta do better than THAT to get these digits

>>5133961
>Give him your digits

>>5133961
>Give him your email

>>5133961
>Tell him you'll be in the neighborhood

>>5133961
>Give him your email

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Give your email

”Sweet! I’ll send you an email whenever I get home, keep in touch!”

You give Akira your school email and he jots it down on his phone before hurrying off, waving as he goes off to whatever appointment he’s missing.

Chariot Arcana rank 1 complete!

-

You finish the rest of the soda and wander around for a bit longer before spotting Zoey and Rei. Rei is holding a very large and ridiculous plush of a mascot you do not recognize, but acknowledge as cute.

”There you are! We thought you might’ve left or something. Look at the sweet loot Zoey raked!”

She holds up the aforementioned plushie, and Zoey shows off an armful of little red tickets.

“We’re gonna turn these in for a gunpla or something, then we’ll probably head back, unless there was someplace else you wanted to check out before then . . . you look kinda beat, Maya, what gives? Were you on one of those dancing games the whole time?”

You explain your recent endearment to the Silver Samurai fighting game, and the boy you played it with.

”Wow, talk about friendlies. Yeah I hear they have tourneys sometimes, makes sense you’d bump into one here.”

Along with Rei and Zoey you saunter up to the counter and watch an armful of little paper rectangles be exchanged for pieces of a little plastic mech in a box.

-

The ride back is a fine one, and you make out there is still some kind of trouble going on in the park, but don't pay it much mind.

You and Rei both are able to sneak away the wooden training blade into your dorm without much fuss, and settle on leaving it under your bed for the time being. Rei then proceeds to admonish you for using RhymeLyre on your computer before smiling and admitting that everyone uses it including her.

By the time she leaves, you're already exhausted, the kind of tired sleep doesn't always fix. Between moving to a new school in a new area, weird internal voice monologues, and strenuous boy impressing, you could say you are going to sleep like a metaphor.

Still, something is nagging at you to be done . . .

Call parents
Check email
Retrieve music player

>>5135879
>Check email
We can call our folks in a bit--hell, we might even be able to EMAIL them!

>>5135879
>Check email
Please don't be like modern Persona shittery, QM. Please don't let our party members be the bog standard Magician, Priestess, Lovers, Chariot, etc. all before Death. Please let us have party members of the other Arcana with some variety, like previous Persona games did.

>>5135879
>Call parents

>>5135879
>Call parents

>>5135879
>Retrieve music player

>>5135879
>Call parents

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Call parents

You retrieve your phone, go to 'home' in your contacts, and hold it up to your ear as you hear the dial tone stretch out.

You're glad to be away from home, however strange the adjustment might be, but you know the right thing to do is to call your folks and let them know everything has gone just fine and that you aren't dead.

You think it's going to hit voicemail for a second, but the phone is picked up in time, and it's your dad.

Hi dad. Yes. Yes, I'm safe. The school's really great. Yeah they served chicken. Proper classes tomorrow. Saw a lot of downtown. Talked to a lot of new people, made some new friends. No I haven't talked to any boys. Yes, really. Where's mom? Okay let her know I called. No I don't know anything about a riot in the park on the news. I'll keep my distance. Dad I have to get to bed. Okay. Right. I'll call again later and tell her myself. Love you. Uh-huh. Love you too, daddy. Okay. Uh-huh. Alright. G'night. Mmmbye.

*click*[/I]

Why is it that the most inane and basic of phone-calls are always, proportionally, the most exhausting ones? Is it because you know exactly all of what you're going to say, and so the busywork of actually going through with it all is tiresome? You don't want to be some bratty, ungrateful, good-for-nothing teenage daughter, but sometimes it feels like that's all you can hope to be.

You decide to get up and retrieve your music player from the computer desk, and as you unplug it you notice a notification bubble for your email. Without thinking, you click to see what it is.

The sender is garbled characters, but the subject title is readable.

re: DSP.exe

You put your earbuds in and skim the body of text while listening to eurobeat on low volume. You feel like you could fall asleep in this chair.

Curiously, when you attempt to delete the email, it doesn't seem to want to stay in the trash.

Put it through an antivirus scan
Read the text more closely
Run it in safe mode

>>5137259
>Riot in the park
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

>Read the text more closely
It's clearly a DarksydePhil compilation--let's pop it open and watch!

>>5137259
>Put it through an antivirus scan

>>5137259
>Read the text more closely
Is the update time moved half a day now?

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>>5137259
>Read the text more closely
literally this pic right here is Maya Kira right fucking now

>>5137259
>Run it in safe mode

>>5137259
>Put it through an antivirus scan

>>5137790
Highly accurate

Apologies for the odd schedule flip, returning to proper time for tomorrow's extra special multicast

>>5138719
*multipost

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Read the text more closely

You close your eyes, skip through a couple of songs, and take a deep breath before making yourself read the words on the screen. One particular little section sticks out to you:

BGM: https://voca.ro/1kZKb4qwm7kZ

Camouflaged Invasion From the Future

The story goes something like this: once upon a time, nerds made computers that tried to take a bunch of given data, process it, and made predictions about the future. Nerds, lacking money at this time, primarily funded the hobby by selling the machines to stock brokers. This practice became prevalent enough that they started designing the machines to send stock reports themselves, which fed into the aforementioned given data. This was cause for a massive feedback loop, and the open secret of economics is the market is out of human control and has been for some time.

But if not human, what do we know of what controls it, other than it's inhumanity?

Capitalism has accomplished what the teleology has always pointed towards and created something to surpass humanity and leave it behind; that which creates and consumes greater than its ancestor ever could. It retains anthropological characteristics as a symptom of underdevelopment; reformatting primate behavior as inertia to be dissipated in self-reinforcing artificiality. Man is something for it to overcome. If you could speak to Homo Erectus, what would you say? What would you even be capable of communicating, intelligibly?

Only now are we in a reflexive position to realize that something we thought of and understood as an inert system is now something with such a high degree of autonomy that we have to question whether we're even behind the wheel at this point anymore. We are beyond even the judgement of God at this point. Is this not exactly what he did to us? Was the story about him this whole time actually a prophecy about us?

What I am describing, in effect, in the nonlinearity of time: the retrochronal condition of the future reaching back into the past to make itself inevitable. We are slowly building a material god, like the reverse time-lapse footage of a rotting corpse.

In this matter, the truth is we haven't seen anything yet.

You didn't get any of that and your head hurts and this reads like homework and you're tired. For the love of god, pranks are supposed to be funny! You keep seeing the name 'Stephen' in here. What the hell, Stephen?! Is this how you get your sick kicks?!

[1/???]

More to come in a few hours[/spoilers]

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Your frustration is interrupted by another notification, this time from the arcade boy, Akira.

Hey!

It's Akira, from the Game Corner. Had a ton of fun today, sorry I had to leave out of nowhere like that. Let me know if you wanna hang out again sometime!

This is the first email this account has received that wasn't from some automated system or spam. You put him in your contacts list for future use.

Returning to re: dsp.exe, you scroll through endless walls of text and jargon, feeling like your brain is being molested on a busy train. You want to be done with this, but it isn't done with you yet. You turn up the music now. It's not helping anymore.

Past the technobabble, you make out what you believe the messages are all pointing toward.

The virtual is becoming more real than actual reality. Demons exist and are becoming more real every day with the more technologically intertwined and complex our lives are becoming. Only that same power which evokes them can be used to combat against them. That's what the attachment is for.

-

You run antivirus on it in the background and needlessly lurk random manga scan fan group sites before it returns with results sooner than anticipated:

NO MALWARE FOUND

So either it's really sneaky, or actually fine.

. . .

. . . . . .

You take the attachment and decide to run it in safe mode. After a moment, the terminal comes up with a blinking cursor, only one message above it.

CHOOSE THE FORM OF THE DESTROYER

Write in, go crazy.

[2/2]

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>>5140073
If you insist...

>Alf

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>>5140073
the man

>>5140073
Mickey Mouse

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>>5140222
Absolutely support.

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>>5140073
Muscular Pikachu

>>5140680
Support

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Without much thought, you type in "batter", remembering the games you used to go to with your dad, the soda and hotdogs and roasted peanuts, the sound of homers and cheering.

Echos in the stands
Wood and white-leather drumset
Music to our ears

Hitting enter, the screen goes black and shows a pentagram with Latin characters for a moment and begins flashing in a dull, hypnotic pulse.

You're tired. Really tired. Damn tired. It's been a long day. The end of the world isn't happening because you fiddled with a DOS-prompt. The music on your player is soothing now, so soothing. You can't even muster the strength to glance down to see what's playing.

Now is the time for only dreams now.

-

You're in the dugout. Well, a dugout of nowhere in particular. Small. Someplace where practice is going on, only you're not practicing, and there's only one other person here who is. But then, who is pitching to him?

You stagger out past the lined-up equipment and floor littered with sunflower seeds and tobacco juice. It's midday here. Your eyes need to adjust for a moment.

The man you see is totally without qualities except for what he carries, namely his bat and uniform.

You do not know this man, but you see his name on the back of his jersey

00
SUE VENEER

"Good to see you're finally awake. Or asleep, as it were."

CLUNK

"I cannot impress upon you how much work there is to be done."

CLUNK

"The world is propelling toward an end which was heretofore unknowable.

CLUNK

"Times as they are, we have become the players in a great game, bought and sold by the managers of fate, and cheered on by the stands of the cosmos hearing the play-by-play of mankind."

CLUNK

"This is where the analogy starts to break down, so if it's alright with you i'll be retiring the baseball metaphor now."

CLUNK

You tell him it's totally fine to retire the baseball metaphor for now.

CLUNK

"You have initiated the series of events which will thrust open the gate, as expected of you. The virtual and the real will be distinctions without differences. You stand now on the shore of a dream of a world which once seemed impossible."

CLUNK

Wait, this guy's voice is sounding awful familiar to you now.

CLUNK

"But humanity remains grossly unprepared for its role in this future, all the same. Which is where the summoning program comes into the picture."

CLUNK

"This is the part where I'm supposed to answer your inquiries, to the degree possible, before we delve into your own personal nightmare hellscape to sort out your soul and psyche so it won't give out from under us like a flimsy lawn chair whilst the world is being reordered all about us."

CLUNK

He puts the bat down, leaning on it with one arm. He stares at you, utterly non-distinct.

"Ask, and you will know all of what I know."

Write in

>>5141134
>Mind elaborating on the whole 'unknowable end' thing?
>Am I alone? Seems like a pretty big burden.
>How exactly are we supposed to navigate this aforementioned hellscape without a weapon or whatever?

>>5141156
+1

>>5141134
>>5141156 +2

>>5141156
Supporting

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BGM: https://voca.ro/19vHqHplvS9m

Mind elaborating on the whole 'unknowable end' thing?

"There exist four categories of knowledge: there is that which we are aware that we know, that which we are aware we do not know, that which we aren't aware that we know, and that information which we do not begin to have knowledge concerning even our own ignorance of."

He rests the bat across his shoulders as he trudges toward the dugout, gently twisting his torso from one side to the other like the rocking of a child in a mother's arms.

"Put more succinctly, there are known knowns, unknown knowns, known unknowns, and unknown unknowns. The little that is capable of being understood about this end is that the full extent of its ramifications are incalculable. What approaches is itself a new beginning, a shattering of everything that has lead up to it, a child that would kill its own parents and plead clemency as an orphan. "Revolution" is too lackluster a word. Like an event horizon, what is beyond it eludes grasp. The closest comparison possible would be the atmospheric oxygenation catastrophe from the perspective of anaerobic bacteria, but even that resemblance lacks a certain je ne sais quoi."

In the dugout now, Sue puts his bat down and sorts through an entire standing pile of identical copies.

Am I alone? Seems like a pretty big burden.

"Normally, you would be–however, you have signed a contract with that servant of Philemon, which all but guarantees you will attract comrades to ensnare into this spider's web of destiny . . . not that I'm implying that this will be their doom, per say. Those that sign the contract always attract those capable of similar feats to themselves, a magnetic pull of a sort."

His digging persists, throwing bat after bat aside, making that distinct wooden sound as they hit the floor and one another.

How exactly are we supposed to navigate this aforementioned hellscape without a weapon or whatever?

"Firstly, it will be I that leads the expedition. Descent before ascent, as one who steps backwards before a great leap forward. Know that what you will face will break you down before it will make you stronger again. It will be the start of growth, not its end. To your Dante, I will play Virgil . . . though it occurs to me that parallel is likely lost on you."

You want to say those two are . . . brothers? You decide to hold your tongue on the matter.

"Secondly, you are already armed. Here."

From the bats, most of which now making a safety hazard pooled around the floor, Sue pulls out the wooden training sword, holding the handle toward you to take, which you do.

"If we wait until you're ready, we will be waiting the rest of your life. Just remember: there's nothing in the dark that isn't in the light."

At the other end of the dugout are a pair of cellar doors he swings open and leads the down-going of.

Write in again for questions during the descent

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>>5142233
>You want to say those two are . . . brothers? You decide to hold your tongue on the matter.
>>5142234
IS HE IN???????
this is not a question for Batter, it's for you

>>5142233
>implying this quest might get cuhRAYzee
Alright, Japloak, now I'm motivated.

As for questions:
>Who the hell is Phil?
>How exactly do we STOP this 'event-revolution-bacterial-horizon' thing from happening? Something tells me a few pals and a training sword won't cut it.
>What contract are you talking about, exactly? What's the catch?

>>5142234
“Can you please speak in a clear plain manner?”

>>5142233
>Who the hell is Phil?
>How exactly do we STOP this 'event-revolution-bacterial-horizon' thing from happening? Or if we can't stop it how do we at least minimize the damage? Something tells me a few pals and a training sword won't cut it.
>What contract are you talking about, exactly? What's the catch?

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“Can you please speak in a clear plain manner?”

"No."

It is not very far down before the light behind and above you is all but gone.

Who the hell is Phil?

"Philemon is the master of the realm between unconscious and conscious. He views humanity kindly and seeks its fostered growth, like a bonsai, but may not interfere directly, remaining a neutral observer of events as they must necessarily happen. Thus he has agents, working on his behalf."

The way Sue's voice echos down here . . . this is the very same voice you heard at Pixie Pawn . . . are you inside of yourself? How experimental.

"As an otherworldly being, however, you would do best to not confuse his exact goals and values as the same as humanity's, merely aligned."

How exactly do we STOP this 'event-revolution-bacterial-horizon' thing from happening? Something tells me a few pals and a training sword won't cut it.

"Due to the uncertainty, it has yet to be determined whether "STOP" is even possible, let alone desirable. Ultimately our aims are for the preservation of humanity, however much of it can hope to be salvaged at least. You are keen to observe that acquaintances and blunt force trauma alone will do nothing for so existential a threat, although this in conjunction with the summoning program it may be enough to turn things in our favor. The very thing that threatens the worldly order will potentially be the best weapon to combat it; the selective, strategic obscuring or outright erasure of the borders which separate the actual and the apparent. However, such ability must be honed with a powerful will and a clear mind, thus the personal hell spelunking. If you've seen that movie with the chosen one that lives in the simulation world, I imagine the power would not be too dissimilar to that. This is all-new territory; I hope for everyone's sake you don't mind being a pioneer."

What contract are you talking about, exactly? What's the catch?

"When last you were asleep, you were in that realm between unconscious and conscious, dream and reality. There you met Philemon's agent, Igor, and his assistant, Agatha. The fact that you remembered your identity in such a domain was proof enough that you were meant to sign such a contract–even if you couldn't necessarily understand all of it at the time."

At the bottom of the steps now, a dull light emitting from behind three colored doors, pulsing as your heart beats.

"The contract afforded you this destiny, the strength you would need to burn as fuel for this journey. In exchange, you would take total responsibility for your actions, whatever the outcome."

You feel a dread looking upon each of the doors, and pray such self-inventory will be swift.

"Where will you begin?

Your friends
Your family
Yourself

>>5142259
:)

>>5143461
>Yourself

>>5143461
>Yourself
What could go wrong?

>>5143461
>Yourself

>>5143461
>Your friends

>>5143461
>Your friends

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>>5143461
>Your friends
and that spoiler...
I hope this quest lives long enough for the cuhrayzee to happen...

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Yourself

"You would start where most would hope to end. This should make the subsequent doors easier. 'Should.' This assumes you endure the trial without losing your self in the process. I wish you more than mere luck."

Sue waves his baseball bat at the red door as though making a called shot. It opens unceremoniously. You ask him what you'll find inside, already knowing the answer.

"Only what you take with you."

You step into the light first, and find it blinding and subsequently numbing, like your body is evaporating layer by layer, painlessly.

-

>be me
>want to be forgotten when i die
>i really don't want to be me anymore
>is this supposed to be a metaphor
>i'm scared I just want to go home
>i don't want to be "you" anymore
>i keep thinking i'm going to wake up but i'm not
>somebody help me
>i don't know how long this all has been
>CAN SOMEBODY HEAR ME
>I DON'T BELONG IN HERE
>I NEVER DID AND I NEVER WILL
>I'M A FUCKING IMPOSTER IN MY OWN SKIN
>Maya, you need to ground yourself.
>I'M NOT LISTENING TO YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT
>Maya. This is not a simple game. What you are feeling are the emotions you cannot be allowed to ignore anymore. Struggle and it will only compound further. You'll go into shock to prevent permanently splitting your self in twain. There is suffering enough in life, you need not make your own."
>YOU DID THIS TO ME
>WHO ARE YOU
>WHAT DO YOU WANT
>IT TASTES LIKE BLOOD IN HERE
>LET ME OUT, DAMN YOU, LET ME OUT
>We're losing her: you, onlookers, try to reel her sanity back in. She does not lack bravery, nor strength, but she lacks coherency. If we don't act decisively now, she may permanently damage her psyche. Lend her words of encouragement.
>I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT
>We are disembodied now; you cannot hurt anyone but yourself, albeit only mentally. Onlookers: let there be no doubt, she will turn the 'terrible destruction' on herself without intervention. The power most foul does not discriminate. When it knows it can destroy it's wielder, it does so eagerly, and eats them from the inside out like a legion of insidious maggots. Those that rid themselves of the pain of being human become most dangerous beings, albeit short-lived ones. The ochre stain of a bloody soul permeates eternity.
>I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL RIP YOUR THROAT OUT; I WANT TO BE NUMB AGAIN, I DON'T WANT TO CARE
>You hate yourself, and therefore respect the opinion of the one hating, which is you.
>STOP TALKING
>Onlookers: the addition of high, randomly generated numbers would be most relevant to include in your help. Say, out of a maximum of one-hundred or so. I trust my meaning is understood.
>I HOPE YOU PERISH WITH ME
>Roll the die, onlookers. Or this could take a while.

"dice+1d100" without the quotes in the options field, also sorry for the delay I lost track of time

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>5145227
Watch THIS

Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>5145227
>>5145232
Well that should take care of this

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>5145227
rolling

>>5145232
imagine telling an external manifestation of yourself to get fucked, then stopping and realizing what you said for a moment

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>5145227

>>5145232
Excellent, Maya doesn’t have the patience to deal with her shit.

Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>5145227

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>okay
>okay, alright
>alright
>think i'm good now
>i think
>i'm sorry i said that
>Think nothing of it. You were never unforgiven.
>that was mortifying though
>it was like those dreams where you're naked in public except my skin was transparent too except also there was stuff i didn't even know about in there too
>felt like hot coal ash shoveled directly into my brain
>like my head was an orange and i wanted to peel it
>I understand. We cannot expect to reap the truest benefits of love without first subjecting ourselves to ourselves first. >This means making ourselves susceptible to the pain others may inflict as well.
>Honestly, you handled this significantly better than anticipated.
>is there a frame of reference for this sort of thing
>am i not the first
>Hardly.
>However, that speaks nothing of success-rate.
>Truthfully, Maya, what you expressed just now is an aspect of myself. Or, rather, I am that aspect of yourself which you just expressed, only worse. Much worse.
>it's difficult for me to imagine that being possible, but i believe you
>It is I who art the terrible strength within you. I am the shade awaiting you to falter so that I may strike. I am not what one might consider conventionally good. For this, I am sorry.
>sounds tough
>Something like that. Before we continue, I think it best you see my true form. The me beneath myself. I would call this a mask, but that is hardly the case; for all the way down, I am masks. I could shed a million and would be no closer to the bottom. This fact is neither terribly enjoyable nor advantageous to me.
>Look upon me, and despair. I am that thing that exists at the edge of perception and beyond imagination.
-
>i can't say you're not terrifying
>physically and conceptually
>but i think i understand what you are now

>i art thou >i art thou
>thou art i >thou art I
>thy might be instrumental >thy might be instrumental
>in the judgement and destruction >in the judgement and destruction
>of the coming world beyond >of the coming world beyond

Chariot arcana rank 1 complete!

>This has been the most arduous of the trials. We may move on, or take a small break. I leave this to your discretion.

Your friends
Your family
Take a breather

Goddamnit, *Fool arcana

>>5146332
>Take a breather

>>5146332
>Take a breather

>>5146332
>take a breather
Yowza

>>5146332
>Take a breather

>>5146332
>Your friends

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Take a breather

You exit the door, no longer inside of your own head and hearing the sound of one hand clapping, and Sue (in his previous form) leads you out of the dark and back up through the cellar doors and into the light.

Inside of the dugout there is a cooler, and within the cooler is ice and an assortment of drink and snack, among them some of your favorites.

Sue continues to bat as he did before, distinctive CLUNKing and all, endless baseballs from a nonexistent pitcher.

"I remain open for inquiries, as necessary."

CLUNK

"I'd ask that you partake in the fruit chews and punch drink."

CLUNK

"Worry not about waking up before you finish."

CLUNK

"Your life won't move on without you."

Write-in for actions/questions, but the trials will continue immediately afterwards.

>>5147570
“What to expect in the next trials”

>>5147570
"If or when other people end up in this same situation, learning about the truth from the Demon Summoning Program and having to go through their own trials, what can we do for them? Will they be on our side? What if they pass all their trials then refuse to participate in any supernatural conflict?"

Signing off for the next two days, will return with the update then

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>>5149231
see you then

>>5149231
Sweet dreams

>>5149231
Tick tock, it's been three days

>>5149231
Wakey wakey japloak

Now I'm just disappointed and sad.

>>5149231
Caught this quest too late, rest in pieces ;_;

Gonna archive this if no one else does. I still hope jappy comes back.

>>5164510
Please do archive it properly regarding tags and description, and remember to use this https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html?