Bad, bad bathhouse

Oct 08, 2010 10:41


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P4/P2 Crossover prompt anonymous February 22 2012, 23:33:04 UTC
Seen on 4chan:

'why is everyone in Inaba so gay?'

'Because Nyarly and Philemon got spiritually high one day and fucked in Inaba.

To this day Inaba still feels the aftereffects of such an event.'

Make of this what you will.

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Bitter Spirits (1a/x) anonymous March 2 2012, 04:59:42 UTC
Well, I'll try. Maybe posting something in parts will make me actually finish something in a timely manner.

Somehow, this ended up in present tense, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. And Nyarly's being a drunk instead. It just seems to fit him better. I hope you like it anyway.

Bitter Spirits (1a/x)A small town in the countryside of Japan. A gentle, sleepy shopping district, still clinging to the old ways. A liquor store that sells the finest in town ( ... )

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Re: Bitter Spirits (1b/x) anonymous March 2 2012, 05:00:29 UTC
In a dimmer, more shadowed liquor store he rolls over, just enough to grab the edge of a barrel and haul himself up with several inky black tentacles that slide out of the space above him, and once he is more or less upright, tumble down to the floor to surround him. He congratulates himself on the victory of getting up by having one grab a handy bottle of sake and downing several gulps ( ... )

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Re: Bitter Spirits (1b/x) anonymous March 26 2012, 23:44:46 UTC
T-this... DO WANT. More, please. O_O

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Re: Bitter Spirits (2/x) anonymous March 29 2012, 04:07:56 UTC
Turns out maintaining that weird style I went for is really super hard. My apologies for the delay. ...also, 'Nyarlathotep' is a stupid long and annoying name to type ( ... )

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Re: Bitter Spirits (2/x) anonymous April 3 2012, 11:44:13 UTC
I had no idea what to expect from this premise but so far I am intrigued. :]a

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Re: Bitter Spirits (2/x) anonymous April 16 2012, 01:43:43 UTC
Whee, tentacles! I am pleased. OwO

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Re: Bitter Spirits (3/x) anonymous April 29 2012, 00:07:45 UTC
Philemon scratches at one of the tentacles encircling his legs, like scratching a cat. A cat with no fur and a curiously plastic skin, but Nyarlathotep purrs against him anyway. He scratches higher, shifting from smooth quasi-flesh to cotton over a simulacrum of human flesh that twitches under his hand. It's quiet, slow and comfortable, and Philemon is surprised Nyarlathotep has not exploded into fury at the idea of quiet comfort. He brushes up along the god's back, then around again in circles and Nyarlathotep has finished licking up all the alcohol but somehow has not moved on to biting. Instead he murmurs soft words, barely at the edge of hearing, half in Philemon's ear and half to himself. "And they lie to themselves about it, leaving behind all they have known even as they complain about the change...they want it, really, they want the glamour and alienation and lies for themselves. Because no humans can really stand each other. Sooner or later, they all fall apart. Not that you ever notice ( ... )

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