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You are falling. Falling through an endless banishment of pure black. Air is brisk upon you as your body continues to plummet into nowhere. Here, at the edge of existence. There is no light for you to gain sight from, and it scares your mind down to the last cell; who lacks the comprehension of your thoughts. Not another person could. No one could. Even the ghost of loneliness.

A dread loomed by these elements, you begin to call out to preserve the liveliest of your presence. It doesn't work well, a paranoia stirring within you while you beg for a hearken dazzles your psyche. It is only you who can hear, but how do you know? You can feel your mouth moving, your ears tensing, but how do you really know that you're hearing the gift of language. In the absence of perception, it messes with your conceptions.

The further as time goes on, the need for another sensation is urged. A fire with its warmth! Splashing into a cold lake! A pin through your eye! However, nothing humors your requests. This realm laughs at you, its silent chortles damaging the self.

Quickly! You must distract yourself, you think. It beats screaming for the sake of nothing by miles. Perhaps, this is a present? Hardly at all. Reflections give way to enlightenment, but this realm is not a place for meditation. Located here, reflection is a time-killer throughout endless time. In spite of your developments, or what you have made a habit, or what's gospel inside your chest.

"Akimoto Shouchou..."

From this depth comes forth a saving lantern. The mere reveal of your body brings happiness to you. The heavier notice, though, one that dissuades tears, forms a defined image in front of your falling grace.

"I am inquisitive of your persona. Speak, tell me..."

> A second-year high-schooler. You're seen as a problem child, frequent in fights and unfrequent in classes.
> A first-year high-schooler. A generation in academia anew, you have thinned out your social life due to impeding shyness.
> A third-year high-schooler. You're quite the popular one in the many bunches. Men and women flock to you naturally, an ideal life for any teenager.
> write-in.
>>
>>3507898
>a 4th year senior. Went to America for education used to navigating cultures new to you.
>>
>>3507898
>A second-year high-schooler. You're seen as a problem child, frequent in fights and unfrequent in classes.
>>
>>3507898
> A second-year high-schooler. You're seen as a problem child, frequent in fights and unfrequent in classes.
>>
>>3507898
> A second-year high-schooler. You're seen as a problem child, frequent in fights and unfrequent in classes.
>>
>>3507898
>> A first-year high-schooler. A generation in academia anew, you have thinned out your social life due to impeding shyness.

Wow MotherGoose I know it's you. Why abandon Big Bad Wolf?
>>
>>3507926
Bold accusation. What makes you think it's Mother Goose?
>>
>>3507908
>>3507912
>>3507917

A second-year high-schooler. You're seen as a problem child; frequent in fights and unfrequent in classes. The state of your reputation, which started to gain traction during your middle-school days, thrives on the violence in your fists, the brashness of your behavior, and the rowdiness in every fiber of your being. Most of the school feared you. There are those who are plain. Some wished to overthrow your rule that was naturally situated as you lived. And the littlest, next to none, admired. It was a different ball game altogether. Peers grew smarter, the lesson of avoidance deployed. 'If we don't approach her then she won't approach us,' the cowardice that isolated you. It wasn't to the degree of being alone within this realm, gliding infinitely without interaction. But it still stung. A sting that encouraged more of your unruly attitude.
"Why?"

> You were always this temperamental. The years sculpted how you are today from that marble.
> Your parents divorced. Your father, the kindest man alive to you, gain custody. However, it wasn't without cost.
> Your little brother was bullied often. The bigger sister had to take her role, and that required serious retribution that caused you to get into trouble. It soon became repetitive.
> write-in.
>>
>>3507947
> Your parents divorced. Your father, the kindest man alive to you, gain custody. However, it wasn't without cost.
>>
>>3507932
the anime shit setting with prose trying to act like it's something better than it is
>>
>>3507976
>>3507932
Have to admit that the writing sounds similar
>>
>>3507947
> You were always this temperamental. The years sculpted how you are today from that marble.
>>
>>3507947
>Your parents divorced. Your father, the kindest man alive to you, gain custody. However, it wasn't without cost.
>>
>>3507976
>>3507979
He also puts a space inbetween the ">" and the greentext. . . A small detail, but I thought to mention it.
>>
>>3507992
I for one, look forward to the terrible smut that will follow. I'm really hoping for new lines that will trump

>My firm rod, which doesn’t cease its permanence, will make use of you until you give me a ‘’second little favor.’ [...] And my balls can supply me for hours. Hundred of loads I can deliver, Huma.
>>
>>3507996
We'll know if he writes any smut or updates daily around 3PM to 10PM like Mother Goose did.
I'm honestly conflicted. If Perplexed is Mother Goose than I would be upset with him for abandoning a quest we loved, and if he isn't then my hopes of it being continued are dashed.
>>
>>3508007
Yeah that sucks, basically everything that happened with wolf sucked.
>>
>>3507953
>>3507990

Your parents divorced. Your father, the kindest man alive to you, gained your custody when you were a child. However, it wasn't without the cost. The financial situation after that bewildering time in your life has made you two move into a place that was affordable for him. That apartment's image is all clear with its faded walls and the shouts of joy from the oji-san next door. Separate from school, it was a peaceful paradise from your troubles. Bland food made by your poor cooking skills between you and your father and constant repair for each room made no difference in comparison to bigger problems outside. Your mother who is an unpleasant memory remains to be what your culmination stems from. That is what you blame. She made you who you are today.
"A sickening brat," says who's in front of you. "Your way of life isn't worth the driest of dirt. Your past stays in the past. But to drag it out for this long is nothing other of a brat who can't handle anything without getting it her way." The light shimmers. You reach out to it so your last friend who has insulted you can stay. However your hands are not able to grab it. Against your expectations it doesn't disappear. And what is has turned into is...

> A knight.
> A Viking.
> An easter swordsman
> write-in.
>>
>>3508029
But we are now a Girl Protagonist. Don't tell me you're going to be a slut but I wouldn't mind Ara Ara our little bro
>>
>>3508033
>An eastern swordsman
Nippon steel folded x1000 gaijin go home
>>
>>3508033
>steppe nomad
>>
Why are people obsessed with Isekai?
>>
>>3508046
It's easy to write, lore expand and generally goes to fantasy or any genre about middle age society.
>>
>>3508033
> An eastern swordsman
>>3508046
It's easy to set up and self-insert.
>>
>>3507926
How did you know it was MotherGoose? What gave it away?
>>
>>3508033
> A Viking.
>>3508036
I don't know might be fun to take it from the girl's view.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>3508033
picking at random
>>
>>3507976
>>3507979
>>3507992
Holy shit, you guys are right. There's no way they aren't the same guy. Kind of scummy if he just left the quest without any notice or reason. He could've at least kept the pastebin
>>
>>3508033
>> An easter swordsman
The other 2 are lame. Especially the Viking
>>
>>3507926
Damn it you could have waited for like a few days before calling him out. What if we don't get another update than this? I also look forward to the smut in girls perspective
>>
>>3508038
>>3508054
>>3508066
>>3508074

... An eastern swordsman. An ornamental sash is tied around his waist that stands out from his ancient robes. Beside it is a long blade that extends heavily from him. He puts a hand on its embroidered grip, his weary fingers tapping on the material that's left undecorated. Pulling yourself away from the swordsman, you come to be aware of your perpetual fall's change. You have stopped in the midst of the brisk air that has tired from brushing your skin. There is a surface under your sneakers. Like the swordsman that scrutinizes your uniform that's covered by an oversized jacket, you mimic the tap of his finger. But instead of yours, it is your toes that test the stability of what you stand on. "Violent brat," the swordsman says. You start to get angry with what he calls you as. Stopping the rhythm of his fingers he unsheathes his blade. Forgetting your anger, you step back when he points it under your chin at a flash. "Enter a covenant with me."
"Ha?"
"I said to enter a covenant with me."
"I don't even know you. What do you mean by making a covenant?" Out of frustration the swordsman swings. You put up your hands to guard yourself, but it was too late. You anticipate your throat being torn with a slice, however he only swiped the skin on your cheekbone. He brings the sword back to pick at your blood and with his hand he wipes it away. The spotless iron is now stained.
"We are now merged." The man stars to turn into dust. Gradually from up his legs.
Your fall resumes. Unlike what you have previously gone through, there is another light at the bottom of this realm. Its a tunnel to somewhere, and you're going to fall through it. The moment that you did was the moment that you blacked out.
Conscious again, you wipe your face of something wet. There is scuttling in the background that hasn't earned your attention. When finally getting your eyes cleans, you look down to see a pile of corpses. It consists of people in similar clothing. The badges, the scarfs, the blazers. These are your peers from your school. And within this horrific pile are some faces that you recognize. On your hands, their blood.
Seizing your attention next is something underneath your peers' bodies. More scuttling and... clicking?

> Inspect what's underneath.
> Start getting off of the pile of corpses.
> write-in.
>>
>>3508127
I just want a closure if he don't like to write it anymore. And this is a perfect way to end things too like.....

>Tairou escapes with a dead chinese bishie in her feet calling to Mary voice. Mary returns with the nurse in tow still asleep and goes back to the abandoned van and rode it back to the city. Arrived at the house. Kitasawa who is waiting at the door tackled hug Tairou. She then calls Hanami to come with him and go inside the van putting all their things that can be used. But mostly from Hanami. Then the van goes out of the town where Hanami points where their grandparent lived. At the Morioka rooftop. Both husband and wife hug at each other looking at the van goes smaller and smaller until it disappeared in the corner.
>"They have grown so fast my husband. Are you sure you want to let them go?"
>"I'm more worried about you. Are they going to be okay with your eldritch relatives?"
>"I believe they will fit in just okay. Now how about you give me another child to rear?"
>And so Tairou and the rest of the girls live the rest of their lives in seclusion, content with their happy and simple lives.

Or something like this.

>>3508070
Told you so and also yes, they are very similar.

>>3507898
At least your explanation or even a word. If you hate it, it's okay. If it was the mods who is threatening you to stop. It's okay too but at least a word would be fine if you are still interested in running. Or at least a back up of your pastebins.
>>
>>3508140
>> write-in.
Wake up you are still in the middle of a fight from the gang that you pissed off.
>>
>>3508140
>Start getting off of the pile of corpses.
Time to skedaddle
>>
>>3508140
>> Start getting off of the pile of corpses.
>>
>>3508148
>>3508221

It is not everyday that bands of light surround your school. The memory of those crowds that was made up of your fellow students is seared into your retinas. They stood by the windows, frozen in place while the bands braced. Brimming, they had enveloped the whole building which led to that free-fall inside that abyss.
You shake your head to get a hold on yourself. With your hand over your mouth as a precaution from puking, you climb down from the pile of corpses. The clicking underneath the mound becomes agitated. As you descended, bodies are shifted and pushed by what lies under. At first sight, a proboscis that burrowed itself out of the mound. Next, a giant insect that scanned the area. It stacked the corpses that it laid on upon its back by wrapping its straw around them.
The insect looks at you once it had hoarded enough bodies on its abdomen. A brown-as-mud exoskeleton makes it motionless. Feeling the fear, you swear under your breath and start reversing from the organism. You have not given mind to where you are. A huge cavern lit up by rows of torches. The insect's pile only takes up a fraction of the uneven floorspace that branches off into different directions.
The instant where one of its legs moved forward tells you to run. You pick a tunnel at random as the insect chased you in an alien fashion. Relying on your physical speed alone, you navigate through the maze-like formations.
You're so focused on the fire of each torch and the scuttling of the monster by your tail. Failing to watch where you're going, you take another turn into a slope. It looked like traversable ground. But at your own expense you start to tumble through the downhill ramp where the torches do not pave the way. On the bright side, the bug that sends shivers whenever you picture it in your mind stopped its hunt for you.
Arriving at the end of the rough slide, you drag yourself to a bigger stone that is sure to hide you. Your scratches from the rocks that were on the way need tending. Leaning over your stone, there is another series of torches ahead that makes a path. Similar to the first you had run through. Over to the far left of this cave is a pair of bodies. One is a human's that is probably another student from your school. And the second body is a humanoid rat that seems to be still breathing. Wheezing to be precise.

> Examine the two bodies.
> Avoid the two bodies and continue through the torch-lit path.
> Tuck your head into your knees and stay behind your stone. This is too much to handle.
> write-in.
>>
>>3508317
> Examine the two bodies.
Guys just because he writes a lot like goose doesn't mean he is besides yelling at him won't bring big bad wolf back.
>>
>>3508317
>> Examine the two bodies.
>>
>>3508544
>>3508583

Mustering up the courage, you move past your stone with the utmost vigilance. Going towards them felt too dragged out as if every step closer postpones the next by a larger margin. At the point where you can identify the two faces, your hesitant approach stagnates to an awkward shuffle. The rat... thing is a grotesque piece of work. Its tail squirms like a worm that draws on the cave's sand. The teeth in its mouth are unkept and crooked. You could make out some bugs digging in its fur; remembering that monstrous corpse-stacker, the catch drives you to the side so you can vomit. "Fuck. Where am I?!" you say. Your echo doesn't travel a great length. "Where am I?! This... Where's Dad?! I..." Choking out the hiccup in your throat, you force yourself away from your puddle of half-digested breakfast. You use your sleeve to wipe your lips, and to wipe what's on its cloth you wipe it onto the ground. Afterward, you come back to the two bodies.
The student almost had nothing on him besides his clothes. You pocket his wallet, saying his name from the ID slip. "Hayashi Masakatsu... I know that kid." The person hanged around your spot at the vending machine. He's considered boring, but that didn't stop you from talking to him from time to time than just kicking his ass. You guess that if they're not there to be a bother then you can tolerate being in the same space as them.
Looking to the wheezing rat-person, a glint shines by the torch's light. It has a dagger in its hands.

> Steal the dagger and try to kill the rat-person. After, take what it has on itself.
> Stay away and move into the torch-lit path.
> write-in.
>>
>>3508624
> Stay away and move into the torch-lit path.
>>
>>3508630

Rummaging through one person is the most you can take. And by the looks of it, you might contract a disease by touching that humanoid rat. Getting yourself back up, you stay away from it as you enter the torch-lit path.
The corridor is a straight way that lacks in dividing passages. Throughout the cavernous system, your alarms are keen for whatever that goes on around you. Everything past the walls, underground, and what may possibly be another surface over your head. This meticulous concentration, although sharpening your senses, contradicts its task by spooking you by the littlest occurrence. From a drop of water that drips from the ceiling, a jump ensues from your jittery legs. At least it isn't that rat-thing... Or that monstrous corpse-stacker... Or anything at all...
A long while later you come across other chambers that fork from the winding road. By the event that you find a pond or so, you drink from it before continuing on. As far as you know the liquid didn't taste funny nor did it look suspicious. In which, you hydrate yourself by the handfuls. In later stages, voices of other people are picked up. "Ikesawa-san, are you sure that this is the way?" resonated far in front of you.

> Run after the voice. Finally some people!
> Remain cautious and spy on whatever's the source of this remark.
> write-in.
>>
>>3508720
>> Remain cautious and spy on whatever's the source of this remark.
>>
>>3508720
> Remain cautious and spy on whatever's the source of this remark.
>>
>>3508544
It's very likely that he is. He just suddenly vanished off the map then a few days later a new quest appears that has a remarkably similar writing style and anime aesthetic.

And even if it won't bring it back he absolutely deserves to be called out on how he handled the situation. If he just said he didn't feel like doing it doing it anymore and explained himself then nobody would blame him all that much but he just stopped out of nowhere and deleted the pastebin. That's stupid
>>
>>3509025
just wonder why he would start writing a new quest after giving up on another quest?
>>
>>3508723
>>3508775

You with-hold your caution. Not a millimeter is lost as you emerge from the linear passage that has become increasingly man-made in its architecture. Where the torches crackle in their fixtures is chiseled into elaborate patterns that remind of ruins depicted in your history books. Cut blocks are as common as the underground's rocks and monuments stretch high into roofs that vary in lengths. Going on all fours, you crawl from crag, to pedestal, and eroded statue. Shadows from the torch-light aren't effective in your slither. Nonetheless it is something that'll help blend you in. "Ikesawa," you say while your knees and hands dirty themselves in this dungeon's floor. You tell yourself the name a couple more times to test your capacity to remember him. He's your school's golden-boy some would say. An antithesis. Athleticism that rivals your own skills, charmingly so that you can't stomach his image either, and one of the top in grades which puts you to shame. Ikesawa Hoshihiko... Yes, you hate him. But to recall that swordsman's words, it's your brat showing that throws a tantrum for no good reason. "Damn it," you interject to shake off the inferiority off of your back.
At a stone structure's corner, you persist on spying with your head peeping out from your location. As you have come to believe, Ikesawa is alive. With another girl, they both stand together mid-way on a case of mossy stairs. At the top of the case is a gate that instills the creeps. "Eeeh? You're sure?"
"This must be it when there's no other way. I don't see the reason for doubt when we were given the strength to survive, Watahara. Not to mention that we narrowly survived that lizard. I wouldn't want to return to it at any cost."
"What are you talking about! You blasted its tail right off!" The spry girl whines to Ikesawa. Watahara Atsuka is most notable as the boy's orbiter and a popular first-year that remains to be admired into her second. You don't know the specifics, but she's his childhood friend. Not like you cared for their circumstances in the first place. The good-looking are really full of themselves, aren't they?

> Show yourself.
> Keep yourself hidden and follow the two.
> write-in.
>>
>>3509980
> Keep yourself hidden and follow the two

Definitely want to get out of here, so following them out is a good idea. I'm really wary about something though. What does given the strength to survive mean? And he blasted a lizardman's tail off? I'm getting the sense it might be dangerous to run into him if he decides not to be a good guy.
>>
>>3509980
>> Keep yourself hidden and follow the two.
>>
>>3510000
>>3510020

Ikesawa goes up to the gate with an unmoved muscle on his face. It's amazing that he can be unfazed by its menacing aura while you and Watahara can't stand it yourselves. Poking around with its engravings, he contorts his expression to that of a devoted detective. "Watahara-san, are there any contraptions here with us? It won't open by just pushing it on our own."
"I'll go look," his companion says, walking down the staircase to search through the chamber. Your hairs stand as your fellow school-girl misses you when checking for a lever, button, or any device that can operate the stone gate. Ikesawa said something about the power to survive. If he's alright in the head and what he proclaimed is true, trusting him with those abilities doesn't feel right. The begged question of achieving power that's above a human is possible is insignificant. You've seen too much already to stick with the common knowledge that you have grown up with. And upon thinking on your distrust you develop a harboring thought to not let yourself be seen by him or his cohort.
"Have you found anything? Make sure to check the grooves of the statue. There must be something hidden," Ikesawa reckoned from the spot that he hadn't move from.
Watahara talks back. She has overlooked where you're hiding, having migrated to the east side of the chamber. "There isn't anything!"
"Are you sure? You tend to look over things, Watahara-san."
"I am! There isn't anything!" Ikesawa sighs at Watahara's stubbornness. She comes back to the staircase to level herself with him. "What are we going to do?"
"It seems that brute force is the only option. Take a step back, okay?" Listening to him, Watahara withdraws three steps from the high-school boy. He raises his hand in front of himself, four different colored balls of light being juggled within. Casting away the green, blue, and orange orbs, he closes his fingers to make a fist while the red orb gets squished. "Got it," Ikesawa says. The action was simply a way for him to think well. Pointing his finger at the artistic wall of stones, he does the impossible. "Ignis!" A point in air being sucked in, flames fly as a projectile made of fire hits the gate. Its particles cloud the area at its own destruction, Watahara fanning the dust aside to get a clean breath.
"Couldn't you have done it better?! I'm all dirty!"
"She wishes..." you commented quietly. You practically appear like an indigenous native on some secluded island.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help it." Ikesawa uses his hand again to signal for her to come. She advances with him at his side as she ducks under the gate's hole.

(1/2)
>>
>>3510139

Abandoning where you kept yourself out of sight, you go through the hole too in an exact manner as them. Regrettably, you must make actions like a rat to maintain your invisibility. From the chamber that you all left from is a hall that's just as, or greater, in space. Two lines of pillars are erected by a brick street that Ikesawa and Watahara stroll. Your drive doesn't give you the privilege to join the unified pathway, discarded to the hall's dark banks.
Rattles being made from across the floor, groups of skeletons hoist themselves together without the tiniest bit of biological tissue. All three of you stop in your tracks. The pair that have been walking ahead of you will most definitely be the focus of whatever these undead creatures have in store.
"Lux!" shouts Watahara. With a finger-gun, a bullet of bright light pierces a dry ribcage of the enemy's member. You're astonished to see that the skeleton did not just crumble, but has turned into dust. The site of the high-school girl's wound on its bones weathers. And from it, its affliction spreads. "So that's what it can do?" Watahara wittily says in a sweat.
Ikesawa shoots another spell of fire himself. "Stop being a clown. We were in for more trouble than we thought!" Rightly so. Witnessing the death of one of their soldiers the army of bones, either with a broken sword or not, drag themselves speedily to the couple.

> Find a place to hide in while things smooth themselves over.
> Run past Ikesawa, Watahara, and the group of skeletons for the nearest exit.
> write-in.
>>
>>3510149
>Search for a weapon, be prepared to join the fight if our classmates start to struggle.

Dang it I'm paranoid and scared but I'm not about to let the only familiar faces I know get torn apart by a bunch of skeletons, strange powers or not.
>>
>>3510149
> Run past Ikesawa, Watahara, and the group of skeletons for the nearest exit
We can deal with this in the open
>>
>>3510149
> write-in
Contemplate suicide.
>>
>>3510266
Supporting.

We only burden our father. We are unwanted from the society. We should just disappear like a wind.
>>
>>3510149
>> Run past Ikesawa, Watahara, and the group of skeletons for the nearest exit.
>>
>>3510172
>>3510239
>>3510266
>>3510432
>>3510450

Flat on your butt, the rate by which you inhale and exhale soars into rapidity. You ask where your moxie has gone to, the part of you that has escaped from your body for a long while.
You must've lost it. Have you finally broken down? This must be a dream, your verdict that's against the previous inward consensus of your mind that says otherwise. Who would've thought that the daunting Akimoto could shrink into a fearful girl? Daunted herself. You can't rip away your gaze from this unordinary army as you're anxious that one look elsewhere will result in these monsters skipping to your quivering placement. "They'll win, right? They have to!" you fret. In your blindness, you then detect an item by your frozen hand. A sword.
Drones to an innate malevolence, the skeletons forward their inept movements in the face of their slayers. Trigger-happy with her finger-guns, Watahara exorcises the dry demons one after another. The need to aim is none. With this quantity of undead bones that would even walk over each other to get to their prey, the perky girl can shoot at any which direction as long as the herd is to her north. "Ikesawa! D-Doesn't this seems like too much?!" she tells.
"It does..." Conjuring pikes of water, flaming artillery, spears of earth and blades of wind, the prodigy bates his mindless enemies. "Just keep it up for a little longer. These guys don't seem to be too dangerous to handle. When there's an opportunity, we'll run for it!"
The weapon that you had found is held by both ends by you. You're stupid in your attentiveness upon it. Accidentally nicking yourself on your left hand that grasped the end of the sword's blade too hard, you enwrap yourself with a grim wonder. You could end all of this right now if you want. All you have to do is plunge it into your stomach.
Snapped out of that fantasy, you let go of the sword in your grip. "Wait!... No..." You're not actually that dumb. You're confident that you're not. Disregard the brawling situations that you had before this moment. You're not one to take your own life!

(1/?)
>>
>>3510518

"They're still coming! We need to run!" Watahara advised. Her voice redirects your attention to the peril meters from you. The horde of skeletons is weak. That's a fact. But they seem to replace their fallen proficiently as well.
"Hold on! I'll think of something!" assures Ikesawa.
Something takes over you. Repossessing the sword that you dropped, you quit your trembling and lift yourself straight up from the ancient ground. This... This is karma. For being a trouble to others, your classmates, and... "Dad," you say. Anything to correct your mistakes. No matter how small it will or may be, there must be a way that you can be a piece of help rather than being the person to cause more trouble. What you're doing isn't bravery. That's well known to you. It's just an excuse to be less of a burden to the world.
Out from the pillars' darkness, you run past Ikesawa and Watahara. Past the skeletons who have changed their focus on you. Untaught in swordplay, you artlessly bash the sword's edge as much as you can to open a way through the undead troupe.
"Hey! Isn't that Akimoto? What is she doing here?!" questions the light-shooting high-school girl. Her question is not acknowledged as the path that you rend catches her and Ikesawa's observations.
"Don't think about it! Let's go!" Grabbing her hand, the spell-slinger pulls along Watahara to escape through your wake.
"Rraah!" shouting with every swing. Your stamina steadily depletes the longer you fight, but you have the mysterious drive to press on.
Winding up another strike, the crowd pushes on with no concern for their death. By the dozens, they overwhelm. Cockroaches. These skeletons are the cockroaches of this labyrinth.
"Wha?!" You're thrown off balance. One that has been crawling without a torso, trampled by its brothers, has grabbed your foot. Several more members of the mass that you charged into head-first seizes your arm, and in the process you lose the sword that has given you your foolish courage. Instincts kick in when realizing the trap that you set yourself up for. "Oi! Get off! Get! OFF! Agh!" you resist in a great effort. Progressively, you are over-run. The ghastly climb on as you tug yourself from them their clutches. However it as all for naught. Your struggle is useless to these hundreds of undead. "H-Help!" you cry. But it isn't heard. Instead, fire answers your call.

(2/?)
>>
>>3510538

"Ignis!" Ikesawa casts his spell at your back's target after steering clear from the danger that you've garnered for yourself. Your complexion of pain that's stimulated by the relentless bone-roaches' claws that seek to dismantle morphs in that of despair. Why would he do that? Couldn't he see that you were sacrificing yourself?! You... You can't understand!
Watahara's bewilderment shows as she follows her leader. "W-What was that for? Ikesawa?"
"It's a precautionary measure! We can't take any chances! It was Akimoto's decision to be that reckless and she's paying the price as being the distraction for us. Come on! Go!" Moments hitherto vanishing around a hall, Watahara makes eye-contact with you. She doesn't know what to think. Neither can you, the one who's drowning in a pot of sour emotions. Purpose gone, you let yourself be ripped apart by your ravagers.

(3/?)
>>
>>3509644
Yeah, that is really jarring. Especially since the last quest seems much more interesting than this one
>>
>>3510543

__________

Akimoto Shouchou
Wraith/Composite Soul

Spell List:
[none]
Skill List:
[Elevated Martial Learning]
__________

Your eyes open to a glassy screen. Past it, they meet the ceiling of an unlit room, a switch in environment from where you were killed. Were you killed? You don't feel like you did. You can't imagine that the dead has to deal with aches in their joints.
Leaning on an elbow, you identify the wooden table that you have been set upon. Placed in the center of the room, it's surrounded by unrecognizable wares and ingredients that are remarkable on their own right. To sift the scarcity of lighting you squint your eyes, racks of skeletons popping out from your strained eye-sight.
Your fatigued self is startled. From the table you spring up and into the cold floor, a stare down commenced on the old bones. What matches the villains that have ripped you apart by the limbs do not move. These skeletons don't have life in them, that note compelling you to be relieved.

> Snoop around the room that you woke up in.
> Get out of the room if you can.
> Place yourself back on the table and rest.
> write-in.
>>
>>3510560
Let's work hard to lewd every boys and make a reverse harem. /u/ included
>>
>>3510601
>Snoop around the room that you woke up in.
>>
>>3510601
> Get out of the room if you can.
They are some things different from goose's style he usually put a
>cont.
At the end of posts that were too long and I don't think he ever stats like that
>>
>>3510691
>>3510834

You snoop around the room out of interest. Thorny plants that bear intimidating berries are in pots, their leaves shed at their stem's base. Nearby is a pair of scissors that have been used to trim leaves and vines that are less neat. Materials are stored in jars that range from living organisms. Which, were mostly insects that remind you of your first encounter here in wherever. And dust; spices, ground minerals, other stuff that you can't tell, gathered in small pouches that are tied with twine. Turning around, southwest from the table, is a bookcase. Cracking one of their covers is the most you can interact with them as the words that they've been written in are undecipherable. The strokes of its letters are incoherent scribbles to you.
Sliding the book back into its spot in the bookcase, you stick to the wall so you can find a doorway. Walking to the left eventually has your hand touch a doorknob. Twisting your wrist, the door of this room is opened. The hall that's connected better in its lights, a lamp dangling on the wall. You exit your waking point, taking the lamp for yourself.
In a sneak, the more sophisticated branches of the building you are in that's finer than the cave's are scanned and checked. For minutes, your wanderings lead you to nowhere but dusty compartments. That is until you eventually enter a hall. A castle's grand hall with its own tattered carpet in the middle of its elongated dimension. On the throne is a human shape that's robed from head to toe, the face clouded by the hole of its hood. "A puppet?" you say at first. Wait. Is this a monster?! It hasn't reacted to your entrance, just sitting in its throne without a twitch.

> Show yourself to it.
> Avoid it.
> write-in.
>>
>>3510917
> Show yourself to it.
Let's get some answers out of it
>>
>>3510917
>> Avoid it.
>>
>>3510917
> Show yourself to it.
imagine being afraid of a puppet, just grab the strings nigga
>>
>>3510919
>>3510956

Out from the grand hall's wings you show yourself to it. Its head snaps to you when aware, separate to the rest of its body as it moves. Rigor mortis slowly disappears the more it warms up its cold nerves. Lifting its arms and placing them on the throne's rest, the robed man assumes a kingly behavior under a voiceless air. "Hey!" you say to it, less than proper. "Who are you? Where am I?" The robed man on the throne speaks. It's a bunch of gibberish and mumbling from your perspective. Its language uninterpreted like those books from before this appointment. Although it can understand what you mean, which makes for a one-sided talk.
Tilting your head to express incomprehension, you rudeness gets through the robed man's string of enunciations. It freezes. Then, with a hagged finger, it plays a sorcery. Next, it nods. "Greetings," you hear. What it has done can now translate its thoughts to you. "You have wakened, wraith."

> Ask what it means by wraith.
> Ask what it is again.
> Do not talk.
> write-in.
>>
>>3511274
> Ask what it means by wraith.
I hope we're not some type of ghost
>>
>>3511274
>> Do not talk.
>>
>>3511274

>Ask what it means by wraith.
>>
>>3511274
> Ask what it means by wraith
>>
>>3511280
>>3511332
>>3511379

"I don't follow. What do you mean by wraith?" Your body feels fine and by no means that you're phasing through objects. The most that are off is a strand of hair that's uncomfortably brushed to a wonky side. Even then, you can fix your bob cut with several seconds for grooming. Or rather, you have to get yourself a trim soon, not that there's a barber that's available.
The robed man points at you with the same finger that cast his spell of translation. "You. I have been notified by my guards that you have perished by their hands. By now, you should've gone to the afterlife, but a certain aspect of yours disqualified my pacifism. Wraith, your soul is two in one. I couldn't let that treasure flee as my calling as a necromancer, so I forcefully made you into an undead." It thrusts itself up and walks from its throne's platform to you in a limp. Putting a foot back and guarding your chest with raised fists, ready to punch it, your vehemence for a fight is regained. Despite the gap between you and it, the necromancer's face isn't visible. Its hood is doing something, or... maybe not at all. "I'm Gyle, a high necromancer and the dungeon boss of this cavernous castle. Akimoto Shouchou, you relight a curiosity that I have not had for a long time."

> Ask what you're supposed to do now that you're dead.
> Ask about Ikesawa and Watahara.
> Punch the necromancer.
> write-in.
>>
>>3512455
>how exactly am I undead?
>>
Not enough images posted nor breaks inbetween paragraphs to be MotherGoose, also schedule and frequency isn't the same.
>>
>>3512455
>>3512568
This. As well as
>Ask what you're supposed to do now that you're dead.

Also, wow, the people we rushed to help used us as a distraction to escape. I'm not eager to become some villain's pet project, but I'm admittedly at a loss for what to do.

Kinda want to try and punch the Necromancer and escape, but I have a feeling that wouldn't work.
>>
>>3512684
What if he just changed his way of typing, his image posted and break in between paragraphs so it would made the MotherGoose suspicion die.
>>
We'll stop here for now. I thank whoever came and I'll see if I can continue this.
>>
>>3512455
>>> Ask what you're supposed to do now that you're dead.
>>
>>3512878
Are you MotherGoose?
>>
>>3512878
Are you MotherGoose?
>>
>>3512878
Are you Mother Goose?
>>
>>3512954
>>3513028
>>3513135
Jesus Christ guys
>>3512863
Honestly if I had to change my entire writing style I wouldn't write
>>
>>3513165
But his writing style didn't change he just posted less images and removed the spacing.

And it's also a bit weird that the first post doesn't do that until somebody points out the similarities between him them
>>
He's also posting on mobile, which I don't remember Mother Goose doing.
>>
>>3513165
I'm sorry you have to deal with the fallout of a shit qm and his gathering of autistic horndogs pouring out of the splintered barricade that was his quest.
>>
>>3513963
He did it occasionally when he needed to

>>3514182
Call us whatever you want, it's only natural that we'd want to know why it has to end after using our time to participate for like 10 threads
>>
>>3514254
Then maybe dont shit up other quests before they even properly start
>>
>>3517029
How did we shit up the quest? By asking if he's MotherGoose? If it gets shit up that easily then it really has no chance of surviving more than 1 thread in the first place
>>
>>3517649
I'm glad that shitty quest died.
>>
>>3517724
Agreed
>>
>>3517649
>How did we shit up the quest?
20+ posts of this 90 post thread is about a different QM, offtopic garbage that has nothing to do with this quest. You can't scroll down without someone wondering if he's your faggot qm. Of course someone who reads that wolf quest would think they've done nothing wrong, absolutely brain-damaged moron.
And if you think a "survival of the fittest" type strategy would work on a board where a thread takes two weeks to fall off, you're sorely mistaken.
>>
>>3519172
dead quest lol
>>
>>3519172
>20+ posts of this 90 post thread is about a different QM
>different QM
But it's obvious to anybody with basic deductions skills that they're the same person

Also that's it? Anons having an off topic discussion? That happens literally every thread, it's literally nothing, you could just ignore them

>You can't scroll down without someone wondering if he's your faggot qm.
Or you could just, y'know, ignore it? Maybe that will work better than reading and participating in a discussion you don't like? Just maybe

>Of course someone who reads that wolf quest would think they've done nothing wrong, absolutely brain-damaged moron.
But they actually haven't done anything wrong. Anybody who has read both quests and has 2 brain cells can see that they're obviously the same guy and maybe if he couldn't take people calling him out on dropping the quest without a word he shouldn't have, I don't know, do exactly fucking that?

And the worst part is that he's probably not gonna learn and try to fix his mistake, he's probably just gonna start a new quest but make the style slightly different and hope nobody notices again.

>And if you think a "survival of the fittest" type strategy would work on a board where a thread takes two weeks to fall off, you're sorely mistaken.
The fact that it takes a while for threads o fall off is inconsequential. If the QM is too big of a fucking crybaby and quits because of people call him out on his bullshit then this quest won't survive. Simple as that



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