WGen Public Archive

RIP WGen
22 May, 2016 -- 04 November, 2016

Note: Some stuff has been left out like Don't Call Me a Glutton or Convertere updates since nobody really needs WIP versions of them. A couple of other non-site CYOA pieces are also absent for reasons I don't feel like explaining. Whether they're released later or not is up to the writers.

Aside from the rules at the top, the ordering does not reflect the original ordering of the pad content. It doesn't really matter at this point, does it?

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A Few Simple Rules


    1. Don't be a disruptive ass.

    2. Leave some space between your stuff and someone else's unless they're related. Consider section markers (e.g., "---------------") if it's something lengthy or if you feel the need to be very clear.

    3. If you want to comment on something, encapsulate your commentary in angle brackets for readability; i.e., "<The flow of this sentence is clunky. Try breaking it up.>"

    4. Don't get upset when unsolicited commentary is summarily deleted.

    5. No touching any button that affect the entire document, namely the Undo/Redo and Clear Authorship Colors buttons.

    6. Like on THP: Take it easy. Let people mess around without pestering them to update -- even if they deserve it.

    7. Yes, disconnections happen. No, we don't know why. Just F5 until you can get back in if it happens. (If you d/c and it doesn't immediately give you a "can't reconnect" message, just wait a second. Don't try to make any changes until the checkmark symbol appears next to the floppy disk; it will insta-d/c you if you do.)



Hello, strangers and non-strangers who pop in here! You may have come in here and seen nobody else around. Or maybe there are others here, but it looks like there's nothing happening. That may or may not be the case. However, before you scramble off, please do take a look at things below.

I've got a silly pseudo-CYOA thing going on that I work on as the fancy strikes. Consider putting in a vote in the chat if it's up to vote. I also work on updates for Don't Call Me a Glutton (check it out on /youkai/ if you haven't already) just under that. Sanity checking and general commentary is always welcome.

Foots has been intermittently doing a pseudo-CYOA of his own right after this block. Progress seems sporadic, but it's all in good fun.

Isolex writes updates for Convertere (/th/) below as well. He can speak for himself on that.

Despite the stern words up above, this is a pretty free-wheeling space. Take the liberty of putting down a few words of your own if you get the urge. It's possible that nobody may see it for a time, but there seems to be enough people running in and out that somebody will leave a comment. Even if it's not commentary/critique that you seek, it's always neat to see what others have left.

So, yeah, welcome.

-- !anAL.XVMTc

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(Later revision of the greeting message)

Have fun, write words, and don't get too caught up in how little activity you see.

-- !anAL.XVMTc

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COMMISAR PROUDLY PRESENTS ANOTHER ZERO-EFFORT SHITPOST

There's No Way Having Sex With A Youkai Is Better Than Crusader Kings 2!
by [s]a bunch of people from #THP pretending to be Taisa[/s] "Taisa"

Remilia's girlcock expanded rapidly, quite like my virtual Estonia, which you can read about in my Crusader Kings 2 screenshot LP hosted on imgur.

Cumming inside Sakuya felt almost as good as when the Pope sent me money for crusading against a kingdom that hadn't yet invented the boat.

I settled into her ass, like colonizing in Europa Universalis IV which I'm also playing. "My conquistador feels so good exploring your insides!"

Koakuma told me she wanted me to make her feel like a princess, so I married her to an inbred freak guy to make an alliance with Poland.

=========================

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEISEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN (the other one)

[i]This isn't right.[/i]

There is something off, though you can't point out [i]what[/i] or [i]why[/i]. The wind is soothing, the forest is still, and [b]something[/b] is terribly, terribly wrong. It could be anything. It could be that the hanging portrait in the living room is off-center. It could be that your pants are a half-size too large. It could be that there is a bunny girl in the middle of the room.

And she isn't wearing a kimono either, is she?

...No. [i]She[/i] isn't. The bunny has short, blue hair—and yet, you can't shake off the feeling that, once upon a time, her hair was unmistakably [i]purple[/i]. Not that you have anything against her hair color. There's nothing wrong with having blue hair.

It's just that it isn't purple.

You once knew her. She was very, very important—so very important that you had forgotten almost everything about her.

But not her hair—and certainly not her kimono—though the girl in front of you had neither.

“Your name,” you croak, voice hitched and dry.

She does not respond, lost in her own little world. A full second passes before she crooks her head in bewilderment, caught unguarded by your voice. The girl scrambles back and assumes defensive position, holding her fists up in front of her face.

“What?” she yells. “Who!?”

Understandably, the girl is confused. A hint of fear lines her forehead, though she does her best to keep a stoic face. She must have no idea about what is happening.

You would explain, but your impatience gets the better of you.

“Your name,” you repeat with insistence, “I'm asking you what your name is.”

Her face bears a frown. “But first, let me ask: why is a human here in the Lunar Capital?”

“But we're not in the Lunar Capital.”

“Yes—yes we are! Just look around us and you can clearly see that—uhm. One moment.” The girl spins around in a frantic attempt to confirm her own suspicions. “Where [i]are[/i] we?”

“Your name, please.”

The bunny-eared girl swallows her words. She slowly lowers her hands as you wait for her to answer.

“Reisen. I'm Reisen.”

“No,” you immediately retort. Though you've known her for less than a minute, you know that she isn't. “You are not her.”

Reisen may be her name, but she isn't [i]her[/i].

“I think I know who I am, thank you very much,” says the girl, frowning.

This girl is everything that isn't right here. How her eyes twinkle in innocence, how her modest chest rises and falls with every breath, how her shoulders quiver in apprehension—all of it is so very wrong. Even her floppy ears and her shirt-and-blazer and her much too long skirt: wrong, wrong, wrong.

You cannot even spare her the slightest of concern.

“Think what you will. I don't care.”

“It wouldn't kill you to be a little more friendly, you know.” The girl scowls. She folds her arms, her anxiety apparent as she drums her fingers on her sleeves.

You say nothing, turning back to stare at her.

“Okay, fine, you don't have to be friendly but could you at least tell me where I am?”

You stare at her again. A complaint is half-uttered before you interrupt the girl. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” A look of disbelief is clear on her face. If you look closely, there is also fear, confusion, and anger. “What do you mean, you don't know!? Then how did you get here?”

Pausing, you answer her.

“I don't know.” Feeling ashamed, you feel the need to explain yourself. “I am on a quest. I am looking for something.”

The girl is cradling her head in her arms. “...What are you looking for?”

Gravely, you respond: “I have forgotten that as well.”

“What do you even remember then!?” she screams. The bunny is in hysterics.

You respond with this:

“I remember that you are not Reisen.”

She struggles to find the right words. “You...” she sputters out. “Is it too unreasonable to assume that I am Reisen? There are dozens of other Reisens in the moon. Can't I be a Reisen as well?” Darkly, she adds, “Though, even both Lady Watatsukis called me Reisen-Two and not Reisen, too.”

You almost chuckle.

The girl storms off, grabbing the handle of the nearest doorway out. But strange it was to see a doorway in the middle of the street.

[i]That's not out.[/i]

A black feeling swirls around the pit of your stomach. You take a step forward, almost slapping her hand away. Placing yourself between the bunny and the door, you turn the handle. “Allow me.”

And then, you are impaled. You wish you could say that this comes to a surprise to you, but oddly enough, it does not. A screaming pain rings throughout your body, spreading first from your chest. Never mind how many times you were stabbed through the heart before, every time hurts like a beast.

You were impaled—

[ ] —by sword.
[ ] —by arrow.
[ ] —by bullet.
[ ] —by an impaler-impaling-impaler.
[ ] —by all of the above.

=====================

literally almost nobody likes battleborn (for good reason) except me, but to fuck with it, i want to see if i can manage my goal of making these morons endearing

-

Oscar Mike, clone soldier, good buddy, and massive idiot, jumped from the door of his crashed drop-pod, landed in a crouch with his rifle up, and cast his golden-eyed cyclopean gaze on his sunflower-filled surroundings... and found nothing to shoot. He dejectedly lowered his gun again, then tapped a finger against his helmet. “...All units, be advised, I have no idea where the hell we just landed. But there's a lot of sunflowers, so, uh, look for that if you're gonna pick us up!”

An orange hat, connected to a flailing bundle of black limbs, leapt out after him, tumbling in a roll that terminated in four blinking eyeballs-on-hands raised for action. “Let's get killin'- wait what there's nobody to shoot what.”

“All units, be advised, I have Orendi with me,” Mike said with a dejected sigh. “You can thank me for this sacrifice later.”

The multi-armed teenage terror straightened up, folded her lower set of arms, and tugged the brim of her witchy hat down with one from the upper set. “I was promised murder! There ain't any murder here! Just”-Her last free arm shot out, a bolt of reddish-black energy launching from her hand to set a sunflower alight-“plant life! It's not the same if they're not screaming!”

From somewhere out of sight came the distinctive hum of a laser charging up.

Mike blinked.

Orendi blinked a lot more, by virtue of all the eyes.

“SCATTER!” Mike bellowed, springing to his feet even as Orendi took off, clutching her hat as she fled – and, unfortunately for the clone, he was a touch too slow to avoid the massive beam that enveloped the clearing (and, more importantly, him)  not a moment later.

There had been, he decided, an attempt. And that was what really mattered.

This was how he rationalized away the horrible pain he was currently feeling.

-I WROTE THIS PART FIRST WHICH IS WHY IT DOESN'T QUITE SLOT SMOOTHLY IN WITH THE PREVIOUS-

Oscar Mike lifted a hand from the smoking crater he resided face-down within. “All right! So I've just been shot in the face with a giant magic laser. Not a problem. S'cool. I'm fine.”

Orendi was still clutching her hat with her top two hands, but cautiously poked her head over the crater's edge regardless. “...You're on fire! Neat!”

“Yep, it hurts,” Mike confirmed. He tried to push himself to his feet... and completely failed. Lacking other options, his single golden eye narrowed at Orendi through his visor. “So I was kinda hoping you could, you know, pick me up? I'm kinda dead here. I mean, not all the way, but-”

“I beg pardon!” said Yuuka, glowering at them from a short distance off. “But I really must ask you both to-”

“SHADDUP OR I'LL TEAR OUT YOUR SPLEEN!” Orendi politely yelled back, and turned from the gobsmacked Yuuka back to her charred teammate. “Seriously, can I go do that now or are you just gonna keep whining?”

“Be advised, I'm trying to maintain a positive attitude!” said Mike, packing an unseemly amount of enthusiasm into his voice. “It's hard because I was just blown up! So please help me already come ON you're RIGHT THERE.” He lifted a grasping, burning hand up, holding it there for Orendi to not take.

The chaos witch pondered this for a moment before twisting her head to glower at Yuuka, who was just sort of... staring. Menacingly. “Heeeeeeeeeeey, flower power!”

“I have a name-”

“NO ONE CARES!” Yuuka's mouth clicked shut, and then Orendi gestured at the man who was now shaking his fist at her. “I just wanna help him up so he stops complaining! Are you gonna shoot me while I do that?”

“You horrible creature,” Yuuka hissed. “Why should I-”

“Okay cool kill ya in a sec!” That said, Orendi clasped four blinking hands around Mike's own and heaved.

“I am okay with this because it will mean I will not die but instead stay alive!” Mike chimed in as he was hauled upright. The clone slapped away bits of fire still clinging to him, then regarded his savior with a completely inscrutable stare because he still had a helmet on. “Be advised, hugs incoming!”

Orendi had a moment to blink at this and utter a “Wait no-” before the trooper scooped her up in a great big bear hug.

“Orendi!” he said, as though he hadn't just been hit with a Master Spark literally a minute ago. “For once you have managed to not be creepy and terrible, so I'm gonna pay you back as soon as we're done with this fight!” Orendi, for her part, flailed and kicked and wheezed before the clone got the hint and let go. “Right!” he said, sheepishly scratching the back of his helmet as the witch gasped for breath on her (many) hands and (normal amount of) knees. “You're puny! Unlike me! I may have crushed your tiny lungs a bit! Sorry!”

There was another whirr of a laser charging, because Yuuka had lost her temper.

Mike didn't even waste time blinking before he picked Orendi back up and took off at a champion sprint, which is why the both of them both managed to avoid getting eviscerated by the second huge laser that had been fired at them today.

This, he decided, was bullshit, because clearly there had to be a cooldown on this kind of thing and she wasn't following the rules.

-I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING ELSE LITERALLY ALL MY IDEA CONSISTS OF IS 'TWO IDIOTS DEAL WITH TOUHOUS' PLEASE SEND HELP-

==============

<This is going to be a lewd one-shot eventually. I've never actually written a lewd before, so feel free to tear it apart.>

What a fucking racket. You sit up in the shitty futon you were given and rub your head. Your ears are being assaulted by something halfway between a cat getting stomped to death and nails on a chalkboard. You throw the blankets off and stand up. The nearby window is open, and you peek out of it to investigate.

Nothing in the yard, nothing in the street. You close the window, which does nothing to muffle the ghastly noise. So it's coming from inside the house. Weird. Your eyes are drawn toward the round moon high in the sky, casting its light down on you.

Oh, right. The full moon. The words of your oh-so-generous sponsor come rushing back to you: [i]"Don't call for me, don't bother me, and above all else don't try to help me."[/i]

Well, you never had any intention of doing either of those. But if this keeps up, one of the neighbors is going to call the fucking police. And that will just make things so much more worse for her, for you, and for everyone. So, you slide open the door and step out into the hallway.

It takes a bit of stumbling around. You're not entirely familiar with this house — certainly not enough to know your way in the dark. Hopefully you won't be around long enough to reach that point.

Her room is only a couple of doors down. While you're groping the wall to find the door, your hands smack something — a scroll or a portrait that was hanging up, probably — and knock it off the wall. Even though it doesn't make nearly as much noise as the screeching wail blitzing your ears, everything goes silent as soon as that scroll hits the ground. There's a tension in the air that seems to hush even the insects outside and sends a chill straight into your heart and through your skin, leaving through the hairs of your neck. Maybe you should just try and go back to sle—

Your thoughts are jarred by the sound of her door being thrown open and slammed into the wall.

=================

The Outsider was walking side-by-side with Yukari up the shrine steps, when she saw him. Well, he was walking. And maybe Yukari was walking, too, but she was doing that thing again—that thing where he looked like she was gliding rather than putting one foot sensibly in front of the other.

Reimu was pretty sure she was cheating, even if she didn't have any proof of it.

The two of them were in an animated discussion that Reimu couldn't hear, even though they were close enough that she ought to have been able to, and Reimu figured that was cheating, also. "Hey," she said, and both of them—the youkai and the Outsider—raised their faces toward her.

"Reimu," said Yukari, as irritatingly cheery as ever. She smiled—

And something was wrong with that smile. Too tight in the edges, in a way she'd never seen it before. Something slipped down Reimu's spine.

She wouldn't let it show. "Another Outsider?" she said, motioning with her broom—they'd come in the middle of her sweeping, too. How inconvenient.

Yukari's didn't shift an inch. "An Outsider," she said, her tone light. "Yes, I suppose he would be."

The Outsider apparently took this as his cue, raising his hand in a half-wave. "Hello," he said. "You're Reimu Hakurei, aren't you? Ms. Yakumo told me all about you. My name is—"

There are worms in your head

—something like waking up from a nap when you didn't realize you'd fallen asleep and definitely weren't supposed to. That feeling, like everyone knew what you'd done and had switched to staring straight at you in the moment your eyes had gone too shut to see. Only there was someone staring at her now, wasn't there? She blinked, and closed her mouth. "Sorry—I must have—what?"

Yukari was frowning—openly frowning. "I asked you," she said quietly, only she was talking to the Outsider, her voice quiet, like the closest anyone like Yukari could ever come to chagrin.

The Outsider, meanwhile, was much more obvious in his distress. "Sorry! Sorry—I forgot—"

"It's okay," Yukari said, quickly. "Just—please don't let it happen again."

"Right! Right! I won't!" He nodded, and then, as if to make it absolutely certain: "I won't."

<Come back, guy who wrote this. I wanna know what happens next!>

==============

<find out what's in the box soon™>

what is this empty box
I'm claiming this now I hope you're happy

===============

[Draft that's been in docs for a while, revised multiple times but it's been a while so placing it in here. Treating it as a rough draft for the time being. Feel free to look over and point out any errors. Would appreciate it. Thanks in advance. - Argent]

[V.2] You hear the whistle of countless bullets missing your body. The sound of wood crackling as they impact it serves as a serious reminder about the deadliness of copper cones sent out at high velocities.

[V.2]You hear them move off in a direction away from you, some of them firing into another random direction in hopes of hitting someone they want.

[V.2]Your body shakes from the excessive doses of adrenaline pumping into your body. With barely suppressed fear, you slowly stand up from the foliage you were hiding in before trudging as silently as you can to the only shelter in this woodland area.

[V.2]You turn a little off-course as you decide to take a detour to throw off any pursuers.

[V.3]When the tightness in your chest relieves itself of its grip on you, the sense of cautiousness you had warps itself into a nagging pike in your legs. Standing up straight, you break into a run. Your anxiousness causing the seemingly rhythmic stomping of your boots to become erratic, causing an irregular pace. Shortly after, you find yourself sprinting through the forest.

[V.2]Trees blur past as your hands flail in front of you breaking branches blocking the path. Heavy boots stomp on the dirt, kicking it up into a cloud behind you and creating footprints in its wake. You focus only on what’s in front; the only thing on your mind is to get away from the people chasing you.

It isn’t until you reach a small clearing that you finally slow down. Panting heavily from the effort, you hunch over and grasp your knees as you catch your breath. Dropping the rucksack you were carrying off your back, you untie a canteen attached to it and drink after you’ve decided your breath is at a manageable pace.


Releasing the container with a gasp, you wipe your mouth of the excess water and put the canteen back on the rucksack. The remaining water in it sloshes around, a subtle reminder that you now need to refill it.

Feeling somewhat refreshed, you stay still for a few short moments, taking in the sounds of nature, or rather, the lack of it. The noisy tumble you dare call a run you made through the forest has caused all of the animals with the slightest hint of self-preservation instincts to rush back into hiding. Leaving you with nothing but the sound of leaves falling down to the dirt. Pushed off of their perch by the wind and joining with their previously fallen brothers and sisters on the ground.

You mentally remind yourself of the silliness of an idea that leaves are biologically different between male and female, and throw that mental metaphor into the mental trash it belongs to.

[WHO CAAAAAARES ABOUT LEAVES]

[V.2]You continue kneeling. Ready to run if the slightest hint of hostility is made apparent. The last thing you want though is to bolt and run into a squad of those chasing you. So you listen for a little bit longer.

[V.2]As you do so, you scan the surroundings, your eyes slowly moving over each section of the forest for the barest hint of a person hiding behind a tree. The possibility of one moving around or ahead to intercept you is big. You’d rather not encounter one yet if there is.

You focus on your hearing once more and, again, only pick up the silence of the forest.

[V.2]Feeling safe enough for now, you quietly put the rucksack back on and move away from your messy trail, careful to not make any noticeable footprints or break any branches or twigs.

You hear a twig snap in the distance.

You haven’t even taken a step out of the clearing.

[V.2]You look back, careful not to twist your legs and disturb the dirt. Adrenaline coursing back into your body sends a feeling of tightness around your chest once again. Your hearing exerts itself to the point where it sounds like you’re in a tunnel as it attempts to try and locate where the snap came from.

[V.2]You feel yourself tense, like a spring coiling up.

[V.2]By this point, it’s certain that they are nearby, you can perhaps make it back to shelter in one piece if you do things right.

[V.2]A rough guess at the distance of the sound dissuades you from sprinting away, so another run isn’t an option.

=============

<making room by moving some obviously defunct stuff around>

you wake up in titanpad or A Fatty in Gensokyo

What is this place? There seems to be words here. Suddenly, Yukari. This is dumb meta-fiction already, you lament to yourself.

The woman, you notice, is floating very majestically above the ground, suspended by a hole in reality. She looks down at

the balding middle-aged man, who's <WHOSE><whores> <hose><I  AM IDORT, THEN WHO WAS TIGHT SUIT?!?!?!> tight suit is matched only  by the tighter remnants of a noose hung around his portly neck.

"Nice,  there's enough meat on these bones to keep fifty youkai happy for the  week," she said, and unceremoniously booted him through a gap.

Thankfuly,  your girthy mass of blubber manages to break your fall through the  bracken and bramble of what appears to be a forest. Full of glowing  eyes. Fucking fabulous. You were hoping to spend this saturday night  hanging from the ceiling, not a treebranch.

"Cheep  cheep," came a frightened sound from below. A smell drifted up to you,  hearty, like something meaty on a grill. It was coming from the cart  just below the treebranch. A girl in a brown cap below was gaping at  your mass. The branch was buckling under you. You were the Sword of  Hamocles, dangling over the head of the girl and her cart.

>balding middle-aged man
<NTR APOLOGISTS GET OFF OF THP REEEEEEE>

So Yuugi takes off her shirt and she's ripped as fuck, something she does to Rinnosuke regularly.

The man takes off his shirt in turn and he's fat as fuck, something nobody does to him, except when he has money to spare.

Koakuma is about to take off her shirt but wonders if she's really in the right story. The crowd is immensely disappointed.

Reisen takes off her shirt and still doesn't get a route.

The shirt takes off its man and it's meta as fuck, something that it is barely aware of, being an inanimate object.

hey OP by line break do you mean like this

----------------------------------------

YOU  ARE Koakuma, the hip-yet-old-school Latin-American dance instructor,  set on her quest to become the next jazz-funk wizard. You travel with  your lovable yet clumsy assistant, Kyouko, who can sing every note  between "do re mi" and the note after F - you didn't even know there was  a note after F. Right now, you are on a quest to find the next idol of  Gensokyo.

coming to theatres in 2017: Koa 2, Electric Boogaloo

Flashdance iykwim

----------------------------------------

What do Catholics in Gensokyo take during Mass?
The Yukarist.
Thanks, folks, I'll be here all week.

gdi I laughed


put your names on nerds
jokes on you im not a writer
only if we have a 7th rule of no saying "what are you doing in here go write your story" [s]even if we totally deserve it[/s]




and n

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yeah RIP