Hololive

[Anonymous No.]

Hololive

[Anonymous No.]

あくたんかわいい大好き

[Anonymous No.]

pekoーら愛してる
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tlLo7jypqDI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZJ8MrEXIio

[Anonymous No.]

I really, really love my clown wife !!

[Anonymous No.]

今日もかわいい〜

[Anonymous No.]

Eroha thread it is

[Anonymous No.]

んなああああ

[Anonymous No.]

I fucking love Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko Miko!!!!!

[Anonymous No.]

I love Towa!
She's playing Minecraft!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNxAGLVEjIk

[Anonymous No.]

Towa...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609102

[Anonymous No.]

Holos for this feel?

https://twitter.com/BlingBling_1024/status/1623339348757463046?s=20&t=Wz9aMpkUUBaaB7VTE6Ddjg

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609102
sexdegozaru

[Anonymous No.]

I will marry this menhera.

[Anonymous No.]

お大事に、ミオ。。。
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=824ZTZ06x1U
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZWjYWcQ4Xo

Hogwarts Legacy!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dYhhv1iH10Y

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Sora Love!

[Anonymous No.]

watch these towakeks and sheepfarts have a melty

[Anonymous No.]

Twaaaaa...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609122
She's going to marry Towa

[Anonymous No.]

Fun movie! Happy sheep! Love you sheeeep!

[Anonymous No.]

https://youtu.be/kBfXjNFo3Mo
https://youtu.be/vvGvqbAxp6s
ｼｼﾛﾝﾀﾞｲｽｷｰ！

[Anonymous No.]

So NijiEN suspended their only good chuuba? how sad

[Anonymous No.]

thanks god we dodged towatame threads

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609129
I will wear Towa's skin.

[Anonymous No.]

Give me your best Shion now!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609134
who? salome?

[Anonymous No.]

explore Hogwarts if you want to see the grand stairs Miko..

[Anonymous No.]

We hate ALL male collabing whores here
Especially Towa

[Anonymous No.]

https://twitter.com/usadapekora/status/1623344136320610304

[Anonymous No.]

Last thread summary

[Anonymous No.]

I have been happy every day since I met Mikochi!
https://cover.lnk.to/otomenosusume
https://cover.lnk.to/OurAndYourSong

Miko's Hogwarts Legacy now! https://youtu.be/1suAIUJn4m8

[Anonymous No.]

Nye

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609142
i forgive matuli only during idolshit

[Anonymous No.]

No flasks, one HP... That was close.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Hololive has too many clown wives

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609142
Based. Just like how Towa hates Towa.

[Anonymous No.]

Sasuga Miko!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609142
Towa...

[Anonymous No.]

is that a..

[Anonymous No.]

great another black

[Anonymous No.]

Full body sheep sex!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Imagebros...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
I really enjoy these AI summaries

[Anonymous No.]

3 hours towa minecraft? Majikayo..

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Imagebros...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
imagebros...

[Anonymous No.]

I need to stop thinking about Mio's freshly worn tights.

[Anonymous No.]

So, where did that faggot who gets triggered by otsupeko come from? Did any piss of a tourist this past 1-2 weeks?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609147
Hey man!

[Anonymous No.]

*casts a spell that reveals your deadname*

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Clown Towife...
Senchou...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609170
We should ask him the next time he posts and also what holo he likes

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609134
Well she posted on 4chan on stream and made a lot of jew jokes so we all knew it was coming, too based for this world

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609143
ニヤニヤ

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
>Pekora is a rogue character in Hololive and is known for her rap skills.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609172
Rushia

[Anonymous No.]

Miko it's a simple puzzle...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
imagebros...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609163
Great, isn't it?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Hololive is a popular virtual clown wife agency...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609138
dozo

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Heimin won

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
imagebros not like this...

[Anonymous No.]

Chill and Twapcraft...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609181
We will defeat Hololive one day!

[Anonymous No.]

Menhera Twi...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

I miss Gura...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
can't wait for AI posts here, they will be actually more coherent than many of the current posters

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609162
way better than wordclouds

[Anonymous No.]

What does the troon's name come up as if you look at the Marauder's Map?

[Anonymous No.]

Towa...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609138

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609197
Never forget wordcloud schizo

[Anonymous No.]

Miko is so dumb...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609197
word clouds are thread culture this so called "AI" could just be some girl typing these statements

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609149
I ownder why every action game has to put souls traits in their gameplay/ui now...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609196
Now you remember the sheepposter that was developing an AI

[Anonymous No.]

Cute design update on the red mage sheep

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609194
miko has en cooties

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609138
https://files.catbox.moe/2oz3v2.webm

[Anonymous No.]

Wordcloud schizo won

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609214
Stop it I only like fapping to hags...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609138

[Anonymous No.]

>that's the place where Snape killed Dumbledore
Miko it's a spoiler!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609217
Look at those saggy tits. That is hag shion

[Anonymous No.]

Imagine how much sex Laplus and Shion have had in the last month

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609203
Also known as the most sane 35p

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609215
why he hates miko and 35p so much

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609219
HP spoilers in 2023? really?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609218
stream doko?

[Anonymous No.]

you can turn off the whole HUD including the quest marker for a full immersive experience

[Anonymous No.]

Your oshi is a who re

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609221
With their boyfriends?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609175
>she posted on 4chan on stream
>based
I have nothing but disgust for you

[Anonymous No.]

https://twitter.com/oozorasubaru/status/1623346400301056005

[Anonymous No.]

TowawaNenene...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609233
>Playing games without HUD
Holy shit, go watch a movie, games aren't for you.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609196
we already have a few bots here

[Anonymous No.]

That little girl need a correction indeed

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609233
I take off the condom for a full immersive experience inside your mom

[Anonymous No.]

That's your wife's beetle Twap

[Anonymous No.]

MEE KOW TEA

[Anonymous No.]

>Towa house surrounded by Nene and Matsuri
YAB

[Anonymous No.]

No Towapi don't go...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609241
That's ENtoddlers for you

[Anonymous No.]

wait wtf koyori is streaming

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Towari...
Takoyaki party tomorrow

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609102
>dodged 2 leechzoku threads
Holy based

[Anonymous No.]

Towa...

[Anonymous No.]

Twi...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

nooo... Tortellini...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609260

[Anonymous No.]

Mio took off her funny hat...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609242
Surely not with each other.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609237
nice lighting asshole

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609244
Shuba...

[Anonymous No.]

Towa didn't have my permission to leave...

[Anonymous No.]

Where's Towa

[Anonymous No.]

Towa don't go...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609262
>>42609135
>>42609262
Why are you posting again?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609260
Pure maiden goddess
>>42609267
POV: Vesper's cock

[Anonymous No.]

What happened to Hime's stream? I was looking at miko's

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609274
Towa doesn't need anyone's permission.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609265
Jesus that's a massive onion

[Anonymous No.]

Miko should've picked Gryffindor

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609281
gura's*

[Anonymous No.]

>fire spell
oh no...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609118
Me inside the suitcase

[Anonymous No.]

it's fire time

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609288
she wanted to copy pekora

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609244

[Anonymous No.]

>kenzocucks are gone
Finally the thread can be good

[Anonymous No.]

>shuba in slytherin

[Anonymous No.]

Big Towa

[Anonymous No.]

Damn Hogwarts is big

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609295
*shoots at it*

[Anonymous No.]

I really hope cover invests in AI tech, that one AI vtuber is starting to collab with other vtubers(humans) and is taking off, imagine what a billion dollar company like Cover can do

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609310
Why is she doing that

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609294
? https://twitter.com/sakuramiko35/status/1448416257858891781

[Anonymous No.]

Thank god all the shiokko left the thread now and didn't pollute it with tons of lewd shion pictures

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609313
Maybe her butt hurts?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609306
It's fucking massive bro

https://youtu.be/ZZVUwdRnJn4

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609304
I love big Towa

[Anonymous No.]

>eceleb

[Anonymous No.]

Damn that boy's hair is bussin af fr fr ong

[Anonymous No.]

witch yo

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609321
he looks like charlie

[Anonymous No.]

Shionyo's suicide show on a livestream

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609224
Worst part was he made that anon quit because of the filters then didn't even bother to keep posting his non filtered version he was crying to be recognised for.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609316
Your reverse psychology won't work on me

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609321
based asmongoldmate

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609321
This autist is the one of the biggest streamers..

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609332
He won

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609317
From what?

[Anonymous No.]

noel will NEVER be a witch

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609338

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609334
Unfortunate, I will have to learn from this mistake.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609196
one of the ai would be spamming towa...

[Anonymous No.]

Migo your protego reps...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609338

[Anonymous No.]

smashing brown kenzocuck skulls with a sledgehammer
shoving a screwdriver in towa's eyes

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609332
>filtering a holo name is good
>sidebranches still in
good riddance

[Anonymous No.]

Miko you jobber

[Anonymous No.]

>I've seen a couple of comments um... I've seen a couple commentas asking if I'm going to play the new Hogwarts Legacy game. And I dok now there is a LOT of controversy over that game. I won't say exactly what it is, um... there's two reasons...
>*sigh* I really want to play it, but I'm not going to play it. Two reasons; 1, because for a guy who's gotten so much hate in his life- y'know especially here in Holo, I don't want to invite more hate. Um... also y'know, gotta support the cause. Y'know, can't really do that...
>But also I feel like I'll be outed as a fake- as a fake Harry Potter fan. Y'know. I enjoy it, I think that the world is very interesting. I read a couple of the books, I re- I watched most of the movies, but I'm not one of those guys who's like "OH, I KNOW THIS THING, I KNOW THIS THING, I KNOW THAT CHARACTER!" I think- I think I'd rather have people who know the whole genre play it.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609349

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609316

[Anonymous No.]

Fucking hell miko...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609350
This but chumpedos and Gura

[Anonymous No.]

Miko you SUCK

[Anonymous No.]

*casts spell to make miko not a beby*

[Anonymous No.]

I remember Miko being really good at parry in ER tho...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609354
So will he play it or not?

[Anonymous No.]

miko is a third rate magus

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609357
That's not shion

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609350
Based

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609356

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Imagebros, wtf?!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609365
she likes to attack more

[Anonymous No.]

I agree with Mio, sensei a cute.

[Anonymous No.]

Finally Miko

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609356

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609346

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609369
shionyo...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609378
T-tastic towie....

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609375
looks like andre 3000

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609378
my homie T-dawg

[Anonymous No.]

noelmarine was cute today.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609378
T-dawg is a good nickname for her

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609378
Towzie is the only good one. This AI sucks.

[Anonymous No.]

LEVIOSO

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609357
pure sex

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609242
I'm really about to quit this general

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609397
you're here forever

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609394
STOP IT RON

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609369
Shion yo...

[Anonymous No.]

>2v3

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609375
Too bad you can't use her hair

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609350
dangerously based

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609403
Look at all that fat on her chest what a disgusting display

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609403
minato aqua is NOT a witch!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609397
You won't, also Laplus is a whore

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609403
Sometimes I forgot Shion is a holo

[Anonymous No.]

>EN whores and fags can't play HL because of troons
Kek, JPchads keep winning

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609403
Flat chest...

[Anonymous No.]

They should've made this game an MMO

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609411
What is she then?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609415
They barely stream anyway so it doesn't matter

[Anonymous No.]

combat too hard for small brain

[Anonymous No.]

https://litter.catbox.moe/uewug2.mp4
Dozo

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609378
Here's a version without the low effort T- ones

[Anonymous No.]

>Towa loves HP
>Will not play it

[Anonymous No.]

>JPchads
https://files.catbox.moe/9p7vba.webm

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609418
kys

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609354
>>42609415
i still haven't found out what's the controversy about this game

[Anonymous No.]

Goddammit Miko your combat reps...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609420
VIRTUAL

IDOLU

GAMER

NEKMIMI

KAWAII

MAID

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609418
multiplayer at least

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609143
https://litter.catbox.moe/36sgv7.mp4

[Anonymous No.]

MIKO BAKA AHO STUPID

[Anonymous No.]

Did Miko beat Elden Ring?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609433
She's barely half of those things nowadays...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609425
towabunga....

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609354
It's always funny when the same group of 'fans' would support the likes of Kronii or Mori by saying 'they are not your kids', 'they are adult, let them do whatever they want, let them have fun', 'fuck idol culture', but also would heavily influence streamers from playing games because of the 'woke culture', 'please think of us the fans who support you'.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609425
pretty sure all of them have been posted here before

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609440
No, she didn't.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609354
just play the game you pussy
>oh i'd be outed as a fake fan thats baaaaad

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609440
not enough noombers

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609425
They still fucking suck

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609445
Shit taste

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609445
Stop using Towitter with your Towabanana...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609425
Towalicious

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609378
>>42609425
>a flip on Canada
Of fucking course

[Anonymous No.]

Loves as in casual fan or what. Never heard her talking about HP, like ever.

[Anonymous No.]

this is getting frustatting

[Anonymous No.]

This game is too hard for Miko

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609444
ENs fear the troon

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609448
>>42609453
No one here has the creativity to come up with something like towie mctowface, it's okay to admit you are jealous

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609462
What game isn't too hard for Miko at the beginning?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609143
https://youtu.be/Ez3elzO8lCE?t=156

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609453
This. But unironically.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609457
She definitely has worms, right?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609459
She said she loves almost all disney's movies

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609437
Holy shit it was prophesied...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609466
me

[Anonymous No.]

Finally Miko

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609465
Twanny.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609469
Yeah, me

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609450
She finished games with even less numbers before. It's just Elden Ring was too hard for her, same reason she dropped Jump King and Sekiro.

[Anonymous No.]

I just bit my own tongue while eating...

[Anonymous No.]

die avatarnigger

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609466
Minecraft

[Anonymous No.]

flare is evil

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609481
She stopped ER because perms expired.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609482
still better than biting your cheek

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609482
you are craving for lunaito meat.

[Anonymous No.]

Mio is doing the thing from the movies

[Anonymous No.]

>incendio
it's over

[Anonymous No.]

Ascendio!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609496
>implying I watched the movies

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609502
>incendio
When is Flare going to play this game?

[Anonymous No.]

Here are some webms from today's NoeMari off-collab

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609425
Towapickle

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609496
what thing

[Anonymous No.]

Fiendfyre when?

[Anonymous No.]

Fire Miger

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609508

[Anonymous No.]

Fire mage Miko

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609445
Sakimichan is great other than the faces. Something about the way she draws faces feels very soulless

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609514
This made me laugh a bit too much god damn noel

[Anonymous No.]

Mio is retard... this wasn't even a puzzle...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609508

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609514
Afterwards Marine just tilted the camera higher to hide Noel's power

[Anonymous No.]

AI sheep sex

[Anonymous No.]

Dark and Darker is the kusogest kusoge I've seen in a while

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609520
the 3d style is trash

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609520
They were an AI artist before AI took off that's their style shitty realism

[Anonymous No.]

This game is beautiful, and probably a dream come true for Gen Z kids that grew up with Harry Potter

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609529

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609490
half elf half beetle...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609537
Marine kabedons a bit too hard

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609539
I thought it was half whore.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609537
Jesus, Marine looks like shit

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609508
>>42609537
why do they keep walking through the walls...
I mean I love it in a janky way but still

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609508
You can thank Chilla for this.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609537
Why are they copying miComet?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609543
>Within my breasts lies the existence of gravity!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609548
what you don't phase through the walls?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609537
I'm wheezing over here

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609545
Hurea.....

[Anonymous No.]

Man, Miko is addicted to this game

[Anonymous No.]

restricted section!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609536
>gen z
millenial tho

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609552
And that is all, still working on the final hour of New Year webms, that's gonna take a long time
>>42609548
They are stands

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609537
THE most powerful costume

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609536
Genz were toddlers at the oldest when the movies started airing. It's millenials that grew up with potter

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609561
third person open world shit is always her thing
as long as the combat isn't too hard.

[Anonymous No.]

Be careful Miko

[Anonymous No.]

Brewing potions...

[Anonymous No.]

>Invisibility spell
I wonder what they use this for at Hogwarts

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609537
>>42609552
These are so hilariously dumb, I really need to watch the archive

[Anonymous No.]

Listen!
No Suzumomo!
No Momotetsu!
No Memechi!
Yo yes Nenechi!

[Anonymous No.]

Alohomora

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609578
tomfoolery
>>42609580
it was a really fun stream. lyrical monster, treasure box, that honeyworks song, shaka beach, and homenobi was really good.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609567
>the way marine just zigzags out
fuck im laughing too hard

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609582

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609553
>>42609567
kowai...

[Anonymous No.]

What's the point of invisibility cloak if you have invisibility spell?

[Anonymous No.]

おつみお～ん！

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609595
perfect for wizard failures like harry's dad who struggle with basic magic incantations

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609567
marine trying to do a BLJ

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609557
The other half

[Anonymous No.]

>open twitter
>anon's clown wife is sick again

[Anonymous No.]

https://twitter.com/tokoyamitowa/status/1623358630342049797
Cute tweet

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609595
The cloak is immune to most countermeasures, the spell can be disenchanted
It's actually one of the 3 super-important artifacts but they just let kids run around with it cause why the fuck not

[Anonymous No.]

KITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[Anonymous No.]

post miComet's kabedon

[Anonymous No.]

Miko don't attack the ghosts, you're supposed to be sneaky

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609613
That shit is soulbound, so they can't just take it

[Anonymous No.]

why is migger larping as a hogwarts studen at 1 in the morning

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609610
actually sick or mental sick?

[Anonymous No.]

i'm the ghost of the ghost of the ghoooost that was just here

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609616
stop baiting me into thinking Nene is streaming

[Anonymous No.]

Love Noel
Love Marine

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609626
Probably both I don't know

[Anonymous No.]

Peeves?!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609620

[Anonymous No.]

grass

[Anonymous No.]

I wish Koyori was streaming...

[Anonymous No.]

Have faith in Towa

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Is this the chamber of secrets?

[Anonymous No.]

FUCK YOU LAMY

[Anonymous No.]

miko loves this game too much

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609643
>fake images made in gmod
Micometsharts are deranged

[Anonymous No.]

Reminder

- Aloe: Suffers from depression, also a whore
- Lamy: Suffers from depression, on the spectrum
- Nene: Suffers from depression, possible ptsd of rape trauma from idol deys
- Polka : Suffers from depression, fat
- Botan : old, uses aimbot pretending to be fps "pro"

Is this the worst gen of all time or what?

[Anonymous No.]

RUN MIKO RUN

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609647
https://twitter.com/hakuikoyori/status/1623360870855352323
welcome to slytherin

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609656
FERAL YUKIMIN

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609660
>fake images
https://youtu.be/1hKiajR4nDw

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609666
I'd like to slither in her if you're picking up what I'm putting down.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609662
you guys still believe the age nyfco says about botan?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609656
why are blue women so violent

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609676
Nyfco just says 33+. I believe that

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609668

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609676
even if Botan's shit ain't true the rest have all been documented by those holos themselves

[Anonymous No.]

Slytherin = numberfags

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azp3PWo5aJM
Towa is too powerful...

[Anonymous No.]

Miko's giggling like a little girl, I love her so much

[Anonymous No.]

Towa Tokoyami is a character from the popular manga and anime series "My Hero Academia." She is a student at U.A. High School and possesses the Quirk "Dark Shadow," which allows her to control a shadow-like entity.

As for why Towa is the way she is, it is not specified in the original source material. However, in the context of the series, characters' personalities and motivations are often influenced by their experiences, upbringing, and personal beliefs. Towa's reserved and serious demeanor may be a result of her strong sense of duty and her desire to master her Quirk.

It is also worth noting that Towa is a fictional character and that her personality and motivations are entirely the creation of the series' author and are intended to serve the story and its themes.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609675
oi joshukun

[Anonymous No.]

I'm 33

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609692
https://files.catbox.moe/rybts5.mp4

[Anonymous No.]

4 vs 1 how is this fair

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609703
Your parents must be really proud of you

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609703
eww

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609703
same

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609703
HAG SEEEXXX

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609708
Why's that?

[Anonymous No.]

Bye Bye Sora-chan...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609703
same here have you started to take female hormones yet?

[Anonymous No.]

Miko yattaa

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0N3G7XfO09o

watching this really makes me want to fly to japan and turn azki's husband into a cuck

[Anonymous No.]

actually a cool fight

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609671
replying seriously to schizoid retards

[Anonymous No.]

No Miko you're not playing on hard mode

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609724
Why are you guys always thinking about another man when it comes to Azki...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609729
she's playing on normal tho

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609724
go back /djt/ drone faggot

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609666
>leeching pekomiko pretending to be their daughter

[Anonymous No.]

BREAKING NEWS
Yes, Towa Tokoyami from hololive is a fictional character and is not a real person. Virtual talents like Towa are animated characters that are performed by voice actors and designed using computer graphics.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609702
I'd like her to experience my parseltongue if you know what I'm saying.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609666
>holos who hate slytherin keep getting sorted into slytherin
thoughts?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609708
In the developed world surviving to 33 is not a special feat.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609739
No...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609743
You're going to stick your mouth on her vagina and go "ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss"?

[Anonymous No.]

https://youtu.be/DI51SP6Z9SY?&t=9388

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609739
You can say Towa is this and that, but never those

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609743

[Anonymous No.]

Sexy Shion or Broccoli please.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609739
Explain Towa

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609666
harry was originally going to be a slytherin but he refused it. she should do the same

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609742
self hate...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609752
Didn't think she had it in her, good for Koyoro.

[Anonymous No.]

is that the peter rat goggle or something?

[Anonymous No.]

https://twitter.com/sakamatachloe/status/1623362436186378240
[WORRYSOME NEWS]
Sakamata is writting a letter

[Anonymous No.]

you can transmog in this game? neat

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609758

[Anonymous No.]

Anons I'm so deep in this hole... I'm getting Lapu's ex roommate another outfit...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609787

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dl5xGO9INPw

[Anonymous No.]

Keep playing Miko!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609779
yeah I am also surprised she managed to do it

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609730
AZKi gives off powerful neglected housewife energy. She needs affair correction.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609703

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609632
Oh Hello Liar, just when I tabbed out of the thread. I assume you already seen all the webms

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609144
Since when is Kanatan so based?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609752
Anyone got the timestap for her reaction when Isshin first pulls out his glock?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609806
But everyone makes it about her husband instead of her. Just fuck him and get it over with already

[Anonymous No.]

Time for Herbology class next

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609794
She went back to Japan again? What's happening?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

towa will never be a cat!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609829
towa...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609758

[Anonymous No.]

Miko...

[Anonymous No.]

Noooo Miko is ending...

[Anonymous No.]

>toiukotode
n-no

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609815
Yes thank you, but I am not a liar!

[Anonymous No.]

hamu...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609825
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1623366393025691648

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609829
Cute cats

[Anonymous No.]

toiukotode...

[Anonymous No.]

Don't go Miko...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609620

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609825
This little event called holofes

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609841

[Anonymous No.]

jesas there's 5 more maps as big as hogwarts?

[Anonymous No.]

towa will never be a cat just like lamy will never have her botan husband

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609840
Fine, just tonight you are a Truther

[Anonymous No.]

This game world is massive, jesus

[Anonymous No.]

noel is a better maid than aqua

[Anonymous No.]

Otsumiko ma'am!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609857
>noel is a better maiden*
Shield Maiden to be precise

[Anonymous No.]

ah fuck, can't superchat
>BAKURETSU MAHOU
hahaha

[Anonymous No.]

Miko chimping out

[Anonymous No.]

OTSU
MIKO

[Anonymous No.]

おつ３５！

[Anonymous No.]

Funny how other holos can just play normally until later but Pekora must end her streams at midnight no matter what. Really suspicious, looks like she's someone married.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

We need to revoke Miko's magic license

[Anonymous No.]

oyasumiko

[Anonymous No.]

Holocure will be mogged by Hogwarts mark my words

[Anonymous No.]

...now what?

[Anonymous No.]

Who let this baby play with fire?

[Anonymous No.]

Back to fishing stream

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

guess I'll tune in to hime until korosan

[Anonymous No.]

TIME
TO
FISH

[Anonymous No.]

Miko ended! Otsu35~

[Anonymous No.]

otsumiko fags!

[Anonymous No.]

>primetime ended
guest friends, it's your turn

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609755
She can practice her broom riding with my special broom if you catch my drift

[Anonymous No.]

You got here late

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609885
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtZD4J_qay8
>4 hours

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609879
Mio's Hogwatrs stream went from 21k first stream to 5k second stream, I think people are only watching to see what house they end up in.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609865
>>42609867
>>42609871
>>42609872
>>42609878
>>42609889
>All those otsupekos yet no one discussed her stream again

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609873
>looks like she's someone married
great at english you are

[Anonymous No.]

Koyoro Demon of Hatred when? I wonder how she long it will take her to clear

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609895
I had her on the background all the time

[Anonymous No.]

Miko truly belongs in Slytherin lol

[Anonymous No.]

Who are the good avatarfags?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609899
This is your average 35P

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609898
おつ
みこ

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609898
おつ３５~

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609896
I believe in hime filling in until at least 3-4 am jst

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609896
>not in the middle of the night for yurop
Eurochads we finally win

[Anonymous No.]

lunaito kawaii

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609898
Strange how this only happens with Miko and Pekora...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609893
Reminder to myself: never open spoiler images.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609896
why do they keep making these directs at morning? Im usually going to college this hour

[Anonymous No.]

accio sex

[Anonymous No.]

Miko will appear in the opening ceremony for that Tokyo tourism ambassador thing on the 13th

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609920
15% will only have 1 end greeting post despite the spam it did the whole thread

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609919
>lunaito kawaii

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609850
SNFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609929
watamates look like that!?

[Anonymous No.]

>masturbating to shion while hime fishes
Truly lovely

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609920
We love Miko and Pekora here

[Anonymous No.]

luna and aqua collab

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609937
*lapuchan

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609929
Fingols look like that?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609917
>23.45
I mean you aren't wrong...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609758
Dozo

[Anonymous No.]

Otsu35~

[Anonymous No.]

holobronies

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609947
buy 5g

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609924
SEA?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609946
Look at that disgusting fat on her chest

[Anonymous No.]

Today I learned about what jiraikei is

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609954
Im australian

[Anonymous No.]

Now that the dust has settled, I think we can agree Botan needs to wear glasses.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

DO NOT TRUST FRIEND

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609950
I don't want to get autism

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609946
look at that delicious fat on her chest

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609924
Japanese are waking up and the majority of the east coast are getting home from school/work
big market

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609942
It's 22:45 in the civilized part of Europe.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609437
They've taken so much from us...

[Anonymous No.]

Slytherin holos = ambitious holos = good holos

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609973
cute pure reaper wife

[Anonymous No.]

I want to see Shion naked

[Anonymous No.]

baby yo

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609976
Its 8:45 AM to me though

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Anyone have that one picture of Towa?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609967
context?

[Anonymous No.]

shut the fuck up

[Anonymous No.]

I'm in love with your dead Twap...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609985
https://litter.catbox.moe/s6spts.png

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609993

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

NOBODY BEATS THE WIZ

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610000
quads yo

[Anonymous No.]

I thought you people were joking but there really is a lot of female hoshiyomis, they're so easy to find in Twitter

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610005
cute princesses

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609993

[Anonymous No.]

New member wallpaper just dropperino'd

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610009
They want to be suisei just like they want to be that dyke towa

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609742
Didn't Pekora bought an Slytherin wand when she was a kid or something. She was probably just joking about wanting to join Gryffindor since she said something about the director playing favoritism on the Gryffindor. I don't know much about HP so I am not sure of what she is talking about.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609973
>>42609983
Fat ugly whore

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610025
ESLsagi

[Anonymous No.]

wamy wouldn't even go into any house, she would be a director

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610006
The in game models look so fucking ugly. Why cant people be good looking in entertainment anymore?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610006
JESAS, it's horrible, people say Souls have bad customization and models, but they're never close to these aberration. Western games are a mistake.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610017
Her entire ass is hanging in the wind jesus kanata

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610030
To be fair, they are British

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610030
It's sexist to be attractive

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610030
Bad, evil people hate beauty.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610017
was this necessary

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610027
if you cannot separate tuber from the roomie then you're not welcome.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610030
>Why cant people be good looking in entertainment anymore?
preposterous! we can't have people look nice in games!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610043
undoubtedly

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610006
Mio has the best looking one

[Anonymous No.]

>HoloEN twitter analysis
hey everyone.
so the recent guraxmarine shipping and gurame doomposting has really fucking pissed me off. im not sure why people think that gurame is suddenly dead after gura had to give an artificial, contrived "YES!!" reply to her senpai's marriage proposal.. it makes 0 sense.
not to mention that gura gave a much more genuine, authentic, and romantic message to amelia literally a minute after that "marriage proposal acceptance"
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1352854768344043521

now im familiar with the gurame twitter kino. i mean, when you compare how often gura/ame @ each other on twitter relative to the other girls.. it isn't even close.

Gura
>@Ame tweets
total count: 12
notable ones include:
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1316842575840583680 (playing off-stream, TOGETHER)
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1349521403750572035 (they are lovers)
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1305737005406580736 (SEPTEMBER 15: already flirting, "you are the best" - AME is her favourite EN member)
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1352854768344043521 (heartfelt, banterkino, cute message + heart + TT. you just know she'd say this to ame off-stream during their off-collab and they'd fuck)
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1325820701190860813 (watching amexroboco.. cute!)

>@Mori tweets
total count: 4
notable ones:
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1304097844236898305 (heart)
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1353774737336446976 (heart)

>@Ina tweets
total count: 6
notable ones:
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1353904042355945472 (incoming hug + heart)
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1304129623723307013 (cute!)
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1304628567259648001 (wants to eat ina)

>@Kiara tweets
total count: 3 (THE LEAST!)
notable ones:
https://twitter.com/gawrgura/status/1303548778981580802 (smooth flirt)

so, upon evaluating gura's tweets to her genmates.. it's dominated by ame, ame flirting, ame kino, ame banter.. ame ame ame.

Now for Ame
>@Gura tweets
total count: 18
notable tweets:
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1319333645077770241 (cute coupon!)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1341996177479270401 (banter!)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1347373242600706050 ("my wife")
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1353580089930248194 (THERE IS NO BETTER WIFE)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1303949818063060992 (SEPTGEMBER 10 FLIRTING ALREADY)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1303570596874215426 (SEPTEMBER 9 DOUBLE HEART FLIRTING WITH EMOJICONS)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1326794656588423170 (THE SEX MUSTVE BEEN SO GOOD)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1303704423340802048 (AND WHO SAYS AME DOESNT FLIRT WITH GURA)

>@Mori tweets
total count: 8
notable ones:
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1303701704546820096 (flirting)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1349076044653809665 (flirting)

>@Ina tweets
total count: 15
notable ones:
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1303547389563740162 (INAA MY QUEEN)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1347010182061047808 (reacting to birthday gift)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1303624499418394624 (giving ina second-hand flirt she already used with gura)
NOTE: NO BANTER TWEETS. I REPEAT. NONE. MOST OF THE TWEETS AREN'T FLIR EITHER. ITS JUST AME GUSHING OVER HER ART. SO EVEN THOUGH INA HAS 15 TWEETS FROM AME, WHICH IS ONLY 3 LESS THAN GURA - ALMOST ALL OF AME'S TWEETS TO GURA IS FLIRT OR BANTER. BEGONE. (and gushing)

>@Kiara tweets
total count: (filtering September 9 useless conversation) - 14
notable ones:
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1347017168710324228 (reacting to birthday gift)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1309604528677814272 (hearts)
https://twitter.com/watsonameliaEN/status/1304038215540641792 (hearts)

now, having reviewed both tweet lists. i can definitely say that both gura and ame love one another the most.
the level of obsession is off the charts with gura, however. she has 2x as much mentions of ame than any other EN girl, whereas kiara and ina both come close to gura for amelia's @ counts.
what separates them, in amelia's case, however, is that most of her messages to gura are cute, flirt, and banter. whereas a lot of her messages to ina and kiara come off as just "friendly friend" talk.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610046
wrong fucking board, retard

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610029
Whatever yoy SEAturd. Keep going and complain about the state of thread again when you don't inclement nothing to the thread and keeps complaining about the minimum details like if you're an english doctor.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610055
based

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610025
She went to USJ as a kid with her friend and she wanted malfoy's wand but since they didn't have malfoy's wand in stock(? if i remember correctly) she mistakenly took malfoy's mothers wands instead. She just likes malfoy

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610060
ESLsagi

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610052
They're supposed to be kids

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610046
separate her fucking whale fat

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610029
Are you the wong schizo? I don't know the story behind the wand that is why I am asking.

[Anonymous No.]

Shions' fanart is really sexy, but how come her live 2D and 3D look like complete ass?

[Anonymous No.]

you don't inclement nothing to the thread and keeps complaining about the minimum details like if you're an english doctor

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610067
miosha cannot go back in time

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610054
Towa?

[Anonymous No.]

It's Ma'am

[Anonymous No.]

Cross-posting, check.
EN posting, check.
Retarded language check.
What happened to Nijis this time, another graduation?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610077
ain't no way you're not doing this on purpose

[Anonymous No.]

ngl this is definitely me when I don't inclement nothing to the thread

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610083
oh yeah one of their retarded nijiEN members got suspended for shotacon, hating management and wanting to play potter game.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610063
I see thanks for the info, that sounds funny.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610083
Another niji got suspended lol. Nijisisters been having a meltdown all day

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610063
>Peko likes Malfoy
>She also likes Gilgamesh
Seems like we found her type.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610088
>wanting to play potter game.
fucking bigots

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610091
Retarded jobbers?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610091
blond men...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610083
Whata are Watame and Luna doing?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610083
Just use the filename randomizer or take the filename of another image rather than trying to come up with a fake one to make it look like you didn't make the cringe tryhard image, flipzoku

[Anonymous No.]

...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610088
>got suspended for shotacon
Seriously?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610111
Nose...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610107
reminder mori has also openly talked about shotacon. i find it hilarious that holoEN is still pretty lax on management but nijiEN is just crumbling.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609437
Remember when Hologra had SOUL?

[Anonymous No.]

so easy

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Reminder, Ambassador Gura and Ambassador Mori are officially hololive JP members now, so they are on-topic here.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610091
Ocelot...

[Anonymous No.]

heimins won

[Anonymous No.]

Does he not know that we don't like EN here and that we specifically stayed on /jp/ for that reason?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610091
Blond white men are every Asian woman's type to be fair
I really need to go to Japan...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610121
your mother is easy son

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610135
You are not blond or white

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610009
>>42610020
Yeah, it'd definitely aspirational, the Holos who get tons of praise and success are the ones who have girls watching them.
One fifth of Marine's audience is apparently female.

[Anonymous No.]

Watame can't stop talking about Botan..

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610124
As is posting their roommates

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610143
Me neither, she's just so damn cute

[Anonymous No.]

keep crying

[Anonymous No.]

https://twitter.com/rururaroru2/status/1623275280663191552
Sexy orca

[Anonymous No.]

EN fell off

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610143

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610126
You're pretty good...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

watame gets to spend valentines with botan!
watame gets to spend valentines with botan!
lamy more like lonemly

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610143
she's just like me...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610138
But I am, with teal eyes(same color as Iroha)

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610149
>fell off
They never got that high to begin with.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609703
I'll be 38 this year

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610160
>lonemly
why did this stupid shit make me laugh

[Anonymous No.]

>amouranth
How the fuck does a mid tier girl with no personality get that popular is beyond me.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
tits

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
Titties, and streaming 8 hours every day

[Anonymous No.]

Towa cum laude

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610166
ojisan...
I'm catching up..

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
Shitskins

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168

[Anonymous No.]

https://streamable.com/o1hvva

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610171
>>42610172
>tits
Hers look fucking horrible and are fake so what gives?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610184
That doesnt matter to the lowest common denominator.

[Anonymous No.]

chloe should play the witch game too since she's interested in that stuff

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
idk have you seen noel

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610184
>what gives?
ultimate truth - most people has shit taste

[Anonymous No.]

>heymins being cocky

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
kekw

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
Jesus christ. Even for an asexual that would be horrible

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
Gaymins hahahhahahahahahahahahahah

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610000

[Anonymous No.]

you have to be this >>42610193 to like this>>42610194

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
>Wear a bikini while doing mundane things
>Reupload the archive as many times as possible
Congratulations you are now a top twitch streamer

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610182
>>42610191
Noel at the very least has a semblance of a personality and big natural boobs.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610107
It's kinda funny how the seriously weeb members want to act as the JP members do but get cancelled for it while the JPs carry on just fine.
Perhaps EN branches were a mistake...?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610204
well noel also isn't trying to do that shit as noel, and most of that stuff is locked behind paywalls.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610207
>>42610194
That outfit makes her look like she has breasts

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610065
fucking cute

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
Jesus can you even piss out of that thing?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610214
Kanata is not a cute girl?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610222
With that chest she's clearly not a girl.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
Is this how Fubuki's looks like after all of those Luna spells?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610182
>>42610191
Noel has an amazing personality.
Even people who hate tits love her.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610166
Same. Been on 4chan since it was a year old. You really can't leave.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
She is basically the 3DPD version of Marine, I don't understand why either of them are popular.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610222

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
I had to zoom in to even know what I'm looking at.

[Anonymous No.]

https://twitter.com/sakuramiko35/status/1623379517493624832

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610238
Well at least with amouranth you can see that tongue action when she does asmr. She might look like a meth head, but she sure can work that tongue.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
wtf how does it shoot so much

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610193
Is this a woman who did sex surgery? Balls are too flaccid.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610226
Friend...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610250
Iirc just a dude with a microdick.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610248
Plenty of zinc

[Anonymous No.]

>people rather talk about micropenises than streams

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610263
What stream is currently live that you'd like to talk about?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610265
Where did you get a picture of my wife and kid?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610249
Amouranth also (probably) isn't a fujoshi so that is another thing she has over Marine

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610103
I remember that one horrible "steal Towa's look" normalfag meme that it kept posting every thread w

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610275
It's really easy to be better than Marine, huh...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610189
She won't
https://youtu.be/6YKUYnQkdVc?t=4710

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610189
>has ghosts in it
Yea she aint touching this game ever

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610228
Ignore them its just retarded Marinefags who are still mad about earlier.
They are projecting because we all know that if Marine's model was flat no one would watch her (her roommate already proved this)

[Anonymous No.]

Cake!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610294
Freshly made by a lunaito.

[Anonymous No.]

the witch holo should play the witch game

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610294
post luna drinking warm milk

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610296
Freshly made to* a lunaito

[Anonymous No.]

My flaccid dick is like four times bigger than that

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610265
Weird to see art like this when you consider that Ui is supposed to be a JK

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610308
Proof?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610294
Luna porn is either dogshit or incredibly lewd there is no in-between

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610308
That's still really small...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610309
She's just babysitting

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610315

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610191
>have you seen noel
>>42610182

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610308
0 times 4 is still 0 anon...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610312

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610331
I miss her cooking/eating streams, but not enough to pay for it..

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610336
wtf am I looking at?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610336
What am I even looking at?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610327
Too big reminds me of that one watame drawing https://litter.catbox.moe/s1b5fe.jpg

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610336
is that...?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610336
Nice mutilation and photography skills, bro

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610331
I prefer ass

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610345
Because it's the same artist.

[Anonymous No.]

Is this a dick rate thread now? Jesas...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610297
But she already did

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610336
KEK

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610354
I'll post mine if you post yours

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610290
Marinefags are always projecting.
They go around insulting other Holos by saying things that are actually true about Marine.

[Anonymous No.]

I have this weird urge to masturbate to Koyori

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610374
だめ

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610336
thats a black mans penis.

[Anonymous No.]

And here I was hoping he got hit by a stray bullet inside that shitty favela he lives in...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
if you actually watched her you'd know that she's pretty funny and engaging

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610364

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610391
Coward. Post a real banana.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610391
Yab

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610389
That is the exact same thing Marinefags say...

[Anonymous No.]

Pekora is probably still playing DaD

[Anonymous No.]

Don't buy the harry potter game, it will get cracked in 9 days

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610389
I remember when she looked like a complete methhead and got kicked out of public gyms for streaming her thottery there

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610397
Nah, I am too insecure about my pp.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610402
I remember it having denuvo though

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610401
She probably is...
Addicted bunny what will you do after the beta ends

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610402
Like I always say. Pirate first, buy later when its like 10 euros on steam.

[Anonymous No.]

Noel and Marine don't really have much in common...
Marine is a gigastacy while Noel is a dorky otaku

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610402
>don't buy holos memberships
>the vods will be downloaded and some days
>don't buy holos merchs
>you can create bootlegs with your 3d printer
>don't buy holos concert tickets
>you can watch test streams

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610406
It's baffling that this pseudoparalyzed lookin ass is the photo they chose

[Anonymous No.]

Your Excellency Madam Ambassador Sakura Miko

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610417
There's some tranny cracker called Empress that knows how to crack denuvo now, he cracked MH Rise and said that Hogwarts Legacy will be cracked within 10 days

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610437
Why does everyone in computer science turn into a girl?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610429
all correct

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610456
Autism and aspergers

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609733
Djt and hololive are the same thread

[Anonymous No.]

love her
https://litter.catbox.moe/wf6sod.webm

[Anonymous No.]

Harry potter girl... shion yo please stream yo...

[Anonymous No.]

I don't like the gays.

[Anonymous No.]

Aren't Shishiron's breast too big?

[Anonymous No.]

thinking of Lapchan's Daishikyu Daishuki 3D

[Anonymous No.]

https://files.catbox.moe/nqaq4d.mp4

[Anonymous No.]

Did Koyori skip Demon of Hatred?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610491
did rinko ever confirm her cat's existence?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610513
I stopped watching during her battle with Owl, once you realize that she had been watching guides it suddenly becomes souless

[Anonymous No.]

Schizodans are fucking losing their minds lmao

[Anonymous No.]

cucksagi seething

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610499
No which is why I need to impregnate her

[Anonymous No.]

Ichimi are fuming

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610525
But she always did that...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610499
No, I have big hands

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610546
exactly
remember that Pekora vs Chained Ogre stream 3 years ago? Now that's peak Sekiro stream

[Anonymous No.]

I'm still wondering if Botan and Iroha would be down for a polygamous marriage

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.courts.go.jp/app/files/hanrei_jp/750/091750_hanrei.pdf

>Pekora is disclosing people.
It's over.

[Anonymous No.]

I'm not clicking that

[Anonymous No.]

I accidentally clicked on it...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610572
Don't click dolphin porn

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610499

[Anonymous No.]

That's a big one, hime

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610491
you're posting what we would describe as gay

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610280
FUCK

[Anonymous No.]

>Someone gets better with time at having done something repeatedly
>"She used a guide"
There is a limit to how far your trust issues can go.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610606
What can ya do, you know?
Half the times when people are accusing holos of reading guides they are just reading their chat for advice

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610606
are "people" mad that mayodog beat isshin faster than them?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610601
iine

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610606
But hasn't Koyori always looked stuff up?

[Anonymous No.]

>matsuri just finished her fifth strong zero

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Motherfuckers, i went to take a bath and missed the dolphin porn.

[Anonymous No.]

i have no idea why this one ragdoll trying to attack rushia makes me giggle

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610606
What's wrong with using a guide? You're telling me I wasn't supposed to look up which resistances Midir had?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610622
Twits...

[Anonymous No.]

I wish Towa would sue me...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610646
Sorry Watame, but not even for you will I watch that lineup

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610637
You're supposed to hit them with all your weapons and note down which deals more or less damage.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610637
Yeah some games are downright unplayable without somw sort of guide or help. Just try playing wow without wowhead.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610646
all blonde group

[Anonymous No.]

>holos consistently use guides in elden ring which is multple times easier to the point you can tell they all used the same exact website
>they wouldn't use guides in a harder game
ok retard

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610627
I don't think Matsuri could make it to a fifth strong zero without passing out, she's a feather weight when it comes to alcohol.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610656
Anonchama...

[Anonymous No.]

Do-do-don't leave me, Watame...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610637
I mean in some games it is understandable like mmos or if you are trying to 100% an RPG, but what is the point of looking up the most optimal way to defeat a boss instead of learning for yourself in a game like Sekiro?
I don't care, I just don't understand it. But faggots in this thread are quick to accuse a holo of reading a guide when it is more likely just a case of them having improved from playing the fucking game.

[Anonymous No.]

Farewell, my lovely sheep...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610425
Yeah you could tell that they hate each other in that collab

[Anonymous No.]

Watame, don't leave...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610661
>Holos consistently use guides
Vast majority of them didn't though. At best they read a couple hints in chat.

[Anonymous No.]

Remember when they made Godzilla a Tokyo Tourism Ambassador, they also made him an official citizen of Japan? that means Gura, Mori, and Miko are also officially Japanese now

[Anonymous No.]

twippers

[Anonymous No.]

>No capital letters
>Retarded statement
Why is this so common?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.vice.com/en/article/88gqwv/japan-earthquake
>Government seismologists predicted in 2018 that there’s a 70 percent chance an eight- to nine-magnitude quake would rock Japan within the next 30 years, with intensities comparable to that of the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami, which killed nearly a quarter of a million people.


after seeing that earthquake that happened in syria/turkey these last 2 days, I'm really scared for my oshi. I hope she marries me and moves to america to live with me by then. I don't know what I would do if she died in a pile of rubble... and this shit is supposed to be worse than whats happening in turkey/syria right now.... extremely fucking nervous after reading this shit

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610681
Thank god for that
Miko needed the recognition

[Anonymous No.]

Noelfags just keep losing. Their """oshi""" will NEVER cut off her breasts like they want her to.
Sick pedophiles.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610633

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610690
Do you earn enough to support your oshi and her lifestyle?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610690
Nothingburger

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610679
>he didn't watch all the ER streams of everyone "casually wandering" to meta weapons
holy newfag

flare was the only one who didn't watch meta guides and beeline straight for the meta weapons

[Anonymous No.]

>if you don't like boobs you are a pedophile

[Anonymous No.]

flare is a witch

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610690
Don't worry anon, your oshi won't make it until then.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610690
>seismologists
Come back to me when a tarot card reader predict the same thing if you want to be taken seriously.

[Anonymous No.]

Just woke up, anything interesting happened in the last 9 hours?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610698
yeah, and in 30 years japan will be a poor shithole because of population decreasing. so my oshi will want to leave japan and marry a rich kaigai with a big cock like me even more by then.

>>42610703
thats what the turkish and syrians were saying until 2 days ago and now their entire cities have been destroyed by this shit. And Japan is supposed to get the same shit, its just been safe for the past few decades for some reason. But there is a 70% chance of this happening and they say the earthquake will be worse than in turkey/syria right now. IT WILL BE FUCKING WORSE. its not a nothing burger, and it could happen sooner than 30 years from now. some people say it could be 10-20 years from now. I want to get my oshi out of japan by then. I just need to learn japanese so I can talk to her by then...

[Anonymous No.]

Tomorrow will be the first anniversary of this legendary collab

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610739
I still don't understand this meme

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610730
Watame was super cute today.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610637
I don't complain about this stuff but imho if you are streaming the game using a guide kinda defeats the point.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610168
To be fair all you need to succeed as a streamer is to stream a lot, some luck and being moderately attractive also help a lot.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610738
So you're telling me THIS stream killed Hololive's most lucrative idol?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610749
No, but it caused her suicide

[Anonymous No.]

Which holos will play Pragmata?
>tfw original Matsuri is gone
;_;

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610713
You ARE a pedophile though.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610730
more agent 446 kino

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610738
THE RING BROS

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610760
Is that a bad thing?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610730
Towa happened.

[Anonymous No.]

>You are a pedophile for pointing out retarded statements

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610770
He said interesting

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610738
Beware, Pekora is next.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610770
Shut up leech

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610738
>that was one year ago
i was literally sleeping during that, and it felt like someone dropped a nuke.

[Anonymous No.]

Towa leeched my dick.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610740
It's part of Kenshi Yonezu's MV.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610775
They would need to collab for that to happen

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610740
HAPPY DAY

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610771
That's not what makes you a pedophile. What makes you a pedophile is saving and spamming images of someone who used to be a "junior gravure model" and saying how much you liked them back then.

[Anonymous No.]

Do not open!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610770
Twi...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610786
When is Luna gonna play the Harry Potter game?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610785
You don't belong on /jp/.
/v/ or /vt/ would suit you better.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610738
Mafumafu you fuck.
https://www.insider.com/singapore-man-sues-woman-for-226m-because-she-just-wanted-to-be-friends-2023-2

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610796
You think Gundam is the peak of "otaku" culture. It's you who doesn't belong here.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610798
You can't appreciate junior idols and JKs. You don't belong here.

[Anonymous No.]

List of BASED holos:
Mio
Miko
Pekora
Subaru
Nene
Lui
Bae
Moona

If your oshi isn't here I'm sorry.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610701
sex

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610749
>most lucrative idol
Since when was Rushia the most popular?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610791
Luna is not a remote controled car.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610749
rushia could barely dance, let alone actually sing. she's good for gachikois but thats what she did.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610804
Your "oshi" is a woman with massive breasts. You are lying to yourself and you are mentally ill.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610785
Based twitterchad, tell 'em.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610806
You will never be tolerated.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610806
enen!

[Anonymous No.]

Man I've been having so much fun with DaD past few days. I can't believe no one but Peko is playing it.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610824
Nose...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610832
I guess that's true if you only look at Pekora's streams.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610832
Botan is too but that's it really
to...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610839
What?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610818
You can like someone for their personality

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610812
explain this!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610843
Botan is the one that introduced it to Pekora, and has done a solo stream of it too.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610845
But you don't. You also attack other holos for their looks and keep making the false claim that Noel wants to be flat.
Also since you believe gundam is peak otaku culture your ability to judge personality is incredibly weak.

[Anonymous No.]

We only tolerate Gura and Mori here because they're japanese citizens now.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610857
You believe HxH and Jojo are peak otaku culture.

[Anonymous No.]

Towa has brain parasites

[Anonymous No.]

>NoeMari collab
>schizo has another meltdown
many such cases

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610865
I have never said that, schizo. Can you stop putting words into people's mouth when you argue?
Why are you Noelfags so retarded?
Also Noel loves Jojo. She is a fake otaku by your standards. Noel is reddit and looks disgusting by your standards.

[Anonymous No.]

a toast, to the witch being banished!

[Anonymous No.]

I just realized that Cananfag gets so uppity about HxH and Jojo is because of fujos lol
What an NPC

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610868
It has to be an AI at this point

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610870
>Can you stop putting words into people's mouth when you argue?
ironic coming from you

>Also Noel loves Jojo
Wrong.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610877
Are we blaming Watamates here?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610876
Fujos are ruining the fad. Look at what is going on at Nijisanji. Fujos are bad news.

[Anonymous No.]

chinpo

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610880
It wasn't his fault, he was trying to make something interesting but his creation gained sentience and killed him in madness...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610879
>ironic coming from you
How? I have never done that. Everything I say is always true. You've always said those exact things. You were also the ones who posted about wanting to bash Noel's head with a brick.
>Wrong.
She loves Jojo but you apparently don't even watch her. Typical redditdan behavior.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610885
>Look at what is going on at Nijisanji
no

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610855
I don't think Botan introduced it to her, I'm pretty sure they found out about it separately and when she brought it up to PEBOT Botan said she had also applied for permissions.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610846
That is just Luna running next to a remote controled car.

[Anonymous No.]

shishiron is so cool

[Anonymous No.]

I want to bash Noel's throat with my penis

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610900
And so cute!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610900
shishiron_on_a_bike.png

[Anonymous No.]

Oi! Talk about Lamy now! Stop talking about other women...

[Anonymous No.]

https://litter.catbox.moe/1h0wfz.jpg
Thoughts?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610889
You don't watch her.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610907
Shotowacon...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610906
start jumping lamy

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610907
giwtwm

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610906

[Anonymous No.]

Im eating a banana.

[Anonymous No.]

How much time do you think he spends on writing down the script for his samefagging routines?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610924
Probably an hour or two

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610922
"eating"

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610906
https://litter.catbox.moe/sd7d86.mp4

[Anonymous No.]

https://youtu.be/lxCEaqmf0r4
danchou...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610908
Yeah I only see what people say about her here. Were the people who said she discussed Jojo on her stream reddit falseflaggers?
You don't really get to accuse anyone of falseflagging after the shit you've tried to pull. You said you want to kill Noel while pretending to be le evil ichiminzz.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610924
It's all copypasted shit, there is barely a paragraph worth of script

[Anonymous No.]

>never used discord before
>join a discord group out of curiosity
>unironic trannies ruining it by making it about themselves
I thought discord trannies were just a meme

[Anonymous No.]

if you're not into jr idols you need to leave and go back t0 reddit

simple as

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610951
>I thought discord trannies were just a meme
it isn't.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610955
Don't say that ichimi will get mad

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610940
Please tell me this is actually a Koikatsu scene and you have it...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610939
What do you think im doing?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610972
I just found it on booru

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610951
Have you seen what they have done to /gif/!?

[Anonymous No.]

KYOU MO BEBY

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610951
I never join discords for the same reason, it's always either pedo groomers or troons, and ofcourse the combo of the too. Seriously why the fuck does every youtuber, no matter how small, has a fucking discord that eventually blows up in controversies?

[Anonymous No.]

If you don't think Shion is the sexiest Holo you don't belong here

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610936
Neko...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610961
Miko is so sexy

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610955
If you're into Noel you love and support disgusting cow pigs according to Noelfags.

[Anonymous No.]

>he doesn't use discord
How do you keep in touch with your friend group? Also basically any more serious level video game organization has you using discord. Even schools and workplaces, so if you're somehow avoiding using discord you probably have 0 friends and never leave the house.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611000
I don't have any friends

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610990
Lesbian DV

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611000
We all use a facebook messenger group.

[Anonymous No.]

I joined my oshi fan discord because it's kinda fun sometimes talking about my oshi's stream without having schizos constantly melting down and screaming about how my oshi is a whore

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611000
There is a big difference between using discord as a skype replacement with your friends when you are gaming and joining a fucking community one, zoomer

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610970
Like clockwork >>42610999

[Anonymous No.]

Isn't Marine a hardcore shotacon? Why are her fans so upset about junior gravure?

[Anonymous No.]

>joined Heimincord
>there are actually cross-dressing Heimin posting selfies there
wow I thought you guys were joking

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611000
I'm not a zoomer, easy as.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610690
>intensities comparable to that of the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami, which killed nearly a quarter of a million people
Japan already got hit with a stronger earthquake in 2011 and suffered less than 10% of those casualties. The death toll was that high in 2004 because the areas hit were shithole countries
Who the fuck wrote this shit
>vice
yup, retards
>Turkey
Same as above, 7.8 in Japan would have lower casualties than an average Burger traffic day

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611000

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611031
i'm 30

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611018
Where are you seeing ichimi? Nobody said anything about Marine.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610951
discord trannies has been a thing before discord existed, they just used other chatgroups for their demented purposes

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfieId.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata really liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611000
I'm not underage so I never had reason to

[Anonymous No.]

I also woke up in a cornfield once.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata ironically liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what l thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Stupid leech poster

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata don't like her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? lf you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

yes trannies yes spam the thread BASED BASED BASED

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610922
そんな バナナ

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata woke up in a cornfield

[Anonymous No.]

/kanata.*coffee.*iced/ > your spam

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata and a coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

for me it's mumei

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611055
>>42611037

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every night she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

hehehehehehehehehe

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she didn't forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a corn fieId.

[Anonymous No.]

What I've learned over the years is that people are really quick to hate people on the internet, for the most trivial reasons

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a corn-field.

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cgvxr8sltWs
Holos with this feeling?

[Anonymous No.]

>your oshi
>how does she like her coffee

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

The Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

I will wait and see how long this newfag will try to become a thread celebrity by spamming his copypasta

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is not my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Do heimins think they're funny?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611083
twip...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611105
I've learned that every negative stereotype about faggots and trannies is true.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfieId.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee iced.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? lf you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was not cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk Iike a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

You won't get past the 1000 replies.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata Iiked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas night. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and waIl all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

you dont belong here and im not interested in talking to you if you are not into idol culture

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you beIieve that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

holokeks

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unIock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Smallest dogs bark the loudest. That's heimin for you.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

range ban heimins

[Anonymous No.]

>Fauna stream tonight
>It's Hitman instead of Hogfarts or DaD
I sleep.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611170
we love heimin here, retard, shiikuin are the one spamming

[Anonymous No.]

Literally just filter you morons. It is a huge text so pick a random string from it.

[Anonymous No.]

ban this mother fucker already

[Anonymous No.]

keep coping you dumbass bitch

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611178
>hitman
kino
>shart stream
cringe

[Anonymous No.]

Everyone talks about these heimins but I've never seen one

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata is too loud

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611178
Fauna hitman is great.
DaD is kusoge, and not the good kind, and who cares about that shitty harry potter game

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611181
>implying phoneposting twitterchads can do that

I say, the spammer is based.

[Anonymous No.]

Towa...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611178
bald fauna is best fauna

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611193
DaD is literally one of the best funniest games I've played in past few years.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611199
hitman is one of the best funniest game I've played in past few years

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

WHERE THE HELL IS LAPLUS I'M GONNA KILL EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU TILL I FIND HER BODY FUCK YOU

[Anonymous No.]

nice thread you have there lads

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

/Heimin/i;
/Kanata/i;
Good thread

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611186
because they stay in the cytube jerking each other off while claiming to be much better than anyone in this thread

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfieId.

[Anonymous No.]

weird how the thread goes to shit whenever nijisanji has a fuckup

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611199
It's jank garbage is what it is

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>thread is dead and people are complaining about some apparent shitposting
god i love filters

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what l thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611206
>he's a phoneposter
>can't take 5 seconds to filter a string
OH NONONONONONNONONONONOO

OOOOOOOOOOH

NON

NON

NON

NON

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more Iegibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611223
Towa is not sexy

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611229
i can, but better question is, where are meidos?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611206
dude you've been doing this for year
never leaving, deal with it

[Anonymous No.]

what time is it in Jakarta?? this mother fucking spammer must be on lunch break

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611240
3 am apparently, peak schizo time

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk Iike a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

1,5 hours till Korone

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so fouI it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

i dont get it

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the waIl in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Why are the people in the harry potter games shocked when the MC can handle those first year spells with ease when the MC is a fourth year student?

[Anonymous No.]

Where's Towa

[Anonymous No.]

I'm going to irc

[Anonymous No.]

Why are moonafarts like this?

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was Iittle more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

the real question is why are the students allowed to talk during the hat selection thing

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611275
Because having the nuts to argue with the hat is also another sign towards which house they ought to be in. It's not something hardcoded into people, they have a say in the matter

[Anonymous No.]

I miss Towa...

[Anonymous No.]

GODmin won

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfieId.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. l had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

You can't handle this

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611284
What if I demand to be sent to the Towa house?
Or is it the Tokotomi house?

[Anonymous No.]

goreposter doko

[Anonymous No.]

the fakest holo...

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the cIassroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

i know a cp poster friend from /ehe~/

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611301
Then you have a much better chance of that happening

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free caIligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611307
nice tits

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611284
not even draco malfoy spoke anything during the selection

are you arguing that some random player character is more gigachad than malfiboy

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the waIl in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611317
draco malfoy is quite literally a little bitch imagine getting your nuts kicked by nerd granger

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611317
Malfoy wanted into slytherin and got tossed right into slytherin. Why would he argue?

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gulIet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffe iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircIed by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

dead thread

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDPLlZ4LUcc
holo's for this feel?

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodIe when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611338
Holo's what?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611345
which holo's would drink horse cum?

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aIoud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s sublime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

meidos are indogfags? are they asleep? it's like 3am there

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611348
Which holo's what?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611337
come back in 13 hours when there are streams to talk about

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611348
subaru

[Anonymous No.]

Kanata liked her coffee iced. Every morning she’d fight her way through the maze of empty cardboard boxes that occupied most of the square footage of her apartment. When she'd find the freezer, she’d grab a handful of ice, crush it into smithereens, and sprinkle them into her Gorilla Gulp coffee cup.

She liked to read mail flyers when she had her morning coffee. At worst, they entertained her. At best, they led to interesting experiences. On one particular morning, she found herself scanning an advertisement for a calligraphy instructor. Attached at the bottom was a cut-out coupon for one free calligraphy lesson.

Kanata read the copy aloud, just for the heck of it. “‘Sakamata’s subIime script-supplements succor students seeking soulful satisfaction. P.S. No refunds.’” She paused and let the words slither in the air. “What the hell kinda name is ‘Sakamata’?” She picked up an apple and crushed it in her right hand over her open mouth and let the juice drip into her gullet. When the unfortunate fruit was little more than skin and pulp, she threw it over her shoulder where it hit a tower of cardboard boxes, knocking them over with a crash. “Calligraphy could be fun,” she said after wiping the apple juice from her chin. She tore the coupon off the flyer.

At the appointed time, Kanata found herself the only student in a small recreation center classroom, sized for knitting circles and small book clubs. She sat at a writing desk feeling like she was in middle school again. There was a blackboard on the wall in front of her and someone had drawn a doodle of a killer whale encircled by stink lines and flies.

Kanata was in the midst of deciphering the doodle when the code was cracked by an odor so foul it brought tears to her eyes faster than stubbing her toe while watching the beginning of Pixar’s Up. She jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair, and rushed to open a window. In her desperation, she forgot to unlock the latch and, with the strength of a cyber-enhanced silverback, broke the frame, window, and wall all in one go. The fresh outside air that gushed in diluted the smell just enough to breathe, and Kanata regained enough composure to curse the frailty of humankind and their feeble constructions.

Behind her, the door swung wide and a silver-haired young woman wearing a black hood stood in the doorway like a bounty hunter after kicking in the swinging gates of an old-time saloon. After studying Kanata with the sangfroid of a trained killer, she said, “Is that a draught I feel?”

Kanata looked back behind her at the gaping hole in the wall. She spun back around. “That was there when I got here.”

“I see.” The young woman studied her from across the classroom for a few calculated moments, then shrugged and walked in and up to the blackboard. In a less murderous tone of voice, she asked, “Are you here for the lessons?”

Kanata scampered back to her desk like a child sprinting for the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. She righted her chair, sat down, and interlaced her fingers on top of the desk. "Yes.”

The young woman smiled at her. “Have you had calligraphy lessons before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“How nice.” The young woman stared out of the hole in the wall. “I remember my first lesson. I had a disagreement with the instructor.” She laughed and looked at Kanata. “They called my writing messy. Can you believe that? Some people don’t deserve eyes if they can’t recognize elegance when they see it.”

The word ‘DANGER’ ran screaming, sirens blazing, over the tarmac of Kanata’s mind. She laughed nervously and gave a dry cough. “Yeah, some people can be real jerks.”

The young woman gave her a smile that was the equivalent of a cyanide-laced sugar pie. “Let’s hope you’re not one of them.” She turned and began scratching her name on the blackboard with a piece of white chaIk.

When Kanata saw the end result, she just could not help herself.

“Dear God, is that an incantation to Baal, Lord of Lies, written in the nigh indecipherable tongue of the ancient Phoenicians? I’m afraid to even attempt to pronounce it lest I summon some slumbering demon from the Dark Dimension. Like, are you serious? Did you make that abomination on purpose? ‘Cause, if you did, you should work for the Secret Service Intelligence Agency by coming up with codes and ciphers. I doubt there’s a cryptologist alive that could solve that enigma. I’m speechless. I really am. I’ve seen slime trails left by snails with more legibility than that. Where does language even stand in the aftermath of this cataclysm? If you wanna know what I thi—”

Kanata woke up in a cornfield.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611348
Choco, Marine, Aki, Towa, Matsuri, Nene, La+, Iroha

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611348
calli

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611348
https://files.catbox.moe/2gxg16.mp3

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611323
>>42611326
>defending lore rape to the point you are arguing malfoy is not a chad

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611368
kekw

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611362
Ina and Kiara start in about an hour and then mommy fauna afterwards there's a lot of streams coming

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611369
What are you talking about? Malfoy was a whiny bully throughout, and his family are proud Slytherins. Why would he argue with the sorting hat?
Harry god damn Potter argued with the hat and chose gryffindor, when the hat was talking about how he would fit in many houses

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611354
Nousagi janny is asleep

[Anonymous No.]

Harry Potter is cringe

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611384
Reminder that this guy is eternally butthurt because he thinks "limpdong(the /vt/ janny)" is a nousagi
imagine dedicating your entire life to a boogeyman

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611389
you will never be a woman, trannie

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611391
NTA but the janny is obviously a nousagi

[Anonymous No.]

do you like kanata now?

[Anonymous No.]

My Hololive Summer Merch is here, let's go Hologacha

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611393
can't defend that it's not cringe? I figured

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611397
no spam more

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611383
the point is you shut up during the selection process not openly debate which house you want to be in, harry was just externalizing his thoughts for cinematic effect since internal monologues are hard to pull off convincingly, in the game its shown as an open discussion where you can choose whatever house you want, if that is the case, what the fuck is the point of the whole hat being there

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611402
Burden of proof is on the accuser, retard

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611396
No, that's because I use global reports instead of ignored board reports (trolling and off-topic) to get rid of you retards.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611397
meh

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611090
For her it's Marcel.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611405
Read the fucking books you donut

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611090
I'm too into scat, anon

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611391
do your job limpdung

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611407
>proof
it's cringe go around in public and see how people look at you when you talk about cringe potter

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611393
I am 100% okay with this.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611423
That's a perfectly healthy young man.

[Anonymous No.]

Korone being the only one with a watch along
gamers...

[Anonymous No.]

Leech defeated

[Anonymous No.]

Who broke greenigger

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611417
why are kazamatai like this?

[Anonymous No.]

https://files.catbox.moe/fynjwp.mp4

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611429
chadmins with their big thick cocks

[Anonymous No.]

Suileech would be nothing without Kanata

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611435
Post the sequel you won't nijicoward

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611417
Me too, your favorite scat artist? Mine's sweetbetty/dirtybetty.

[Anonymous No.]

Wow it literally did its job after it got called out

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611369
if your definition of a chad is a spoiled daddy little bitch who pissed his pants went goo goo ga ga everytime he saw a death eaters nigga then we shall agree to disagree. imagine being a slytherin only to wriggle like a little faggot on the bathroom floor over a spell called fucking sectumsempra

[Anonymous No.]

https://streamable.com/rhes2x

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611425
why would a 100% healthy man dress up like a girl and lick bananas on stream?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611443
More like scrotumsepra lmao

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611450
$20 is $20

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611450
Fag

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611439
https://streamable.com/c4baig

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611443
he's a chav and chad through and through, but is only written like he's not because reader power fantasy pandering, because malfoy is a bully chad and a lot of harry potter fans were bullied as kids, and they want to see the bully lose in the book

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611450
Good source of potassium, and a real man doesn't let others tell him how to dress.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611450
i had to tolerate towa already

[Anonymous No.]

*slaps belly*

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611457
So your headcanon of him being a chad is more correct than the official source material which is very clear on his personality and character?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611463
*slaps you*

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611455
coward

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611466
are you autistic or ESL or both?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611450
don't you need to go make bait threads about him on /lgbt/ no one cares about him here

[Anonymous No.]

https://streamable.com/rgzkse

[Anonymous No.]

Another day another no aqua stream and me questioning why i'm even a crew at this point.
I speak for all of us when I say aquacrew are the biggest clowns out of everyone in the holo fanbase.
Maybe I should move on to ojou

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611450
that's a trannie i could get behind

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611476
If a character is written a certain way, then they are that way, regardless of whatever attributes you give them in your headcanon.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611486
that guy would fuck you in the ass not the other way around

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611497
even better

[Anonymous No.]

The 5th and most important founder of Hogwarts Tokoyami Towa!
Inventor of the Eunuchus spell.

[Anonymous No.]

We only love real women here.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611486
You'd have to, there's no hole in the front

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611498
get in line fag

[Anonymous No.]

That's the weirdest falseflag I've seen today

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611488
he's written to be a total in control chad, and hes always portrayed this way, outside of plot contrivances and reader wish fulfillment

[Anonymous No.]

Harry Potter fags shitting up the thread again

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611457
hes an embarassment to slytherin and he will go down in history as the most cowardly, worthless, biggest pussy of them all, deal with it. his only redeeming quality is his hot mom

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611506
No he isn't. He is constantly whiny, spiteful, and utterly useless. There is not a single case of him being a chad in the books.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611499
i just thought of something, quite off-topic, but being trannie in harry potter universe makes no sense. You have magic, potions to turn yourself into whatever you want, so to turn into a woman shouldn't be hard. yet there's one troon npc

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611484
>Maybe I should move on to ojou
Why not just go to Koyo or Watame or Pekora who stream every day?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611523
all wizards are troons

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611501
We?

[Anonymous No.]

>leeching Pekora and Botan
>leeching Suisei and Aqua
>leeching GAMERS
>leeching Subaru
>leeching e-celebs
Towa is the true shameless leech of hololive

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611529
They're boring.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611523
Well the transformation potion only lasts like 12 hours, and it only makes you look like someone else that exists, so it's not really a viable alternative

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611520
he's shown to be prominent in quiddich as well as magic arts, but harry potter is a gary stu character who always triumphs no matter what, and malfoy is very obviously set up as the guy who harry constantly goes up against and wins against, if it wasn't harry and his status as the gary stu he would humiliate and dominate

[Anonymous No.]

Why are anons talking about leeches? Are they good pets or something?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611535
Towa...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611543
The only reason he ever did anything worth shit in quidditch is because his dad bought the whole team top of the line brooms.
Draco can't humiliate or dominate anyone except his uitterly brainless slytherin goons.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611523
I don't remember them having a genetic resequencing spell.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611484
>maybe I should move on from no streams to 1 or 2 streams
you deserve what you get

[Anonymous No.]

I think im ready to move on from this thread.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611554
they can teleport, so making genetic resequencing spell shouldn't be hard

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611544
They are useful in the medical field. Or at least they were decades ago, I don't know if anything changed. They were good at sucking out blood clots or something while being relatively safe.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611549
copium, he went up against harry in the duel and was able to meet his power level, but harry, again, as gary stu, cannot lose for plot reasons

[Anonymous No.]

malfoy was a bully chad only when he was a kid. too bad he grew up to be a little bitch & a literal gloryhole for the death eaters bellatrix pegs him every night while his little bitch of a dad watches

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Remember when Korone was the most popular holo?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611565
Remember splinching? Now you're expecting them to do something requiring way more precision. Though I guess they could easily repair the damage... Or it'll turn into new war crimes.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611577
D-DARKER!!!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611568
You mean in the second book when Harry had barely had time to touch magic while Draco had all the coaching he could ever want in his fancy pureblood family?
Copium is what you're huffing, weirdo

[Anonymous No.]

at least the spammer was on topic...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610017
Thanks getting membership now

[Anonymous No.]

The only true chad in harry potter is that edward cullen individual

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611401
I guess

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611611
And he got killed off for being too chad for hufflepuff
Also the book Ron was a chad, movies made him a comical relief character

[Anonymous No.]

>>42610017
thanks, bro

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611586
>>42611586
>You mean in the second book when Harry had barely had time to touch magic
yeah this is called being gary stu, he is a master immediately with no training

draco is the actual chad, potter is a pussy brought up by faux methods and power fantasies, and its even suggested he's simply from a "superior" bloodline so that's why he's the best wizard vs. someone who trains

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611616
cute koone

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611616
cute korosan

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611628
We get it, you're horny for Draco.

[Anonymous No.]

>international ambassadors for japan
>none of them speak fluent English and Japanese

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611622
Exactly. Literally died so he can give his bro harry some pussy

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611639
>straight from /vt/

[Anonymous No.]

is this the Harry Potter thread?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611639
they speak both better than you

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611639
>none of them speak fluent English and Japanese
None of them speak fluent Japanese

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611628
>vs. someone who trans
exactly thank you for finally seeing the light if you're too big of a faggot like malfoy is you'd be better off transitioning

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611650
During dead hours this can be whatever thread you like

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611639
Miko speaks fluent Japanese. Her not being able to speak Japanese is just a meme.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611660
yes, you love trans politics I get it, but that doesn't make draco not the superior chad in potter

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611670
Anyone with a speech impediment cannot speak fluently

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611667
*places my hand on you upper thigh*
even if I want an erp thread?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611687
Even then. Though you can't force anyone to participate

[Anonymous No.]

>>>/vt/42462711
houndoom yo...

[Anonymous No.]

Fucking Ron is even more of a chad than Malboytoy you dingus everyone is, heck even Neville is even more of a chad than him he was only cursed by an unfortunate surname

[Anonymous No.]

draco's a pussy. all he had to do was avada kedavra dumbledore and he couldn't do it.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611687
*guides your hand toward my nether region*
uwu.... i-i-.... i-if it's y-y-y-y-y-y-y-you... i d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-don't mind oniichan... uwuwuwu uguuuu kawaiii des ne ^_^ :3 :3

[Anonymous No.]

why did cover approve such a blatantly whorish costume? and why did she request it, i thought she hated gfe? was it to boost failing numbers?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611725
megurine luka chama....

[Anonymous No.]

Another traced /vt/ post

[Anonymous No.]

Lamy's fat pussy?

MY property

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611725
Well it's Mori, and not like it's the first lingerie in hololive.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611747

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611747
>>42611754
Begone foul beast!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611757

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611763
Actually looks kind of cool here

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611763
t-rex arms...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611725
well it worked because I membered her

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

Why did it flop?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJGZ3iyA_SA

[Anonymous No.]

Japan won
https://twitter.com/TwitterBlue/status/1623411400545632256

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtZD4J_qay8

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611811
>if you’re subscribed to Twitter Blue in the US you can create longer Tweets.
Fuck off give me my poems

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611814

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611822
dumb dog

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611811
twitter will be dead in a year

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KS8qCLhJVnU
She got an L2D!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611823
festival...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611829
Nice, something to see

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611829
>うんち
www

[Anonymous No.]

How do we shave kanata?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611823
>supposedly rich streamer
>uses piss shit acer TN monitor
?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611828
why would someone waste billions buying a company to kill it?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611847
Acer monitors are fine, and there's no need to go past 1080p

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611844
kanata should have thick, pure pubes

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtZD4J_qay8 I will be summoned

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611847
What are you smoking? Acer produces one of best gaming gear in the industry

[Anonymous No.]

>MOS game looks absolute shit.
oh nyo.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611847
she got burgled pls understand

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611850
dumbass
this "wasted billions" shit is now on twitter, that's why this idiots are scrambling to find a way for it to make money... cause they need to make 40 bil back plus whatever the fuck debts twitter had by itself. That and mismanagement will ultimately kill it.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611847
Why does being a streamer or rich mean you need to overcompensate with high end tech that you don't need?
Vast majority of streamers are not on the level where their peripherals are bottlenecking them. No point getting 360hz monitors or superlightweight mice when you are a middling gamer

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611847
this girl?
https://twitter.com/natsuiromatsuri/status/1353752613846618113

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FggB2utqsXw

[Anonymous No.]

35homokekpags status?

[Anonymous No.]

My oshi literally doesn't know the difference between 480p and 1080p...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611847
Suisei can't even setup dual monitors mate, you think they know about shit like TN or IPS monitors?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611847
I guess you haven't seen what kind of headphones she's using. 99.5% of women are completely clueless when it comes to specs lol

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611874
>hololive production

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611871
Thanks. Disliked and reported for animal cruelty

[Anonymous No.]

>Gen 7 nowhere to be seen
>Gen 6 still don't have alt outfits yet.
what the FUCK is going on.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611854
bare minimum these days is 1440p 144hz unless youre limited in budget, there is really no point in having 1080p monitors unless going for those 3-5ms 360hz displays
>>42611870
it's about standards, if gaming is your main hobby then why would you settle for substandard shit
>>42611879
>>42611880
this is probably the answer

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611888
they're using all the money on tempus 3-10

[Anonymous No.]

I have been summoned

[Anonymous No.]

Holos literally have no idea how to stream on youtube... no idea about how to make stream looks good instead of pixilated mess... and that's like whatever but why the fuck COVER doesn't have detailed guides about it? what a fucking joke... TECH COMPANY BTW

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611889
>Bare minimum
No it isn't. Vast majority still use 1080p 144hz.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611874
Literally nothing's wrong with it? I'm proud of Miko got to be an official ambassador for Tokyo tourism.

[Anonymous No.]

old suicyan bgm

[Anonymous No.]

Doggo is sleepy.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611899
based, we 35pagpaggies love ENmaidens here

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611871
>open stream
>"ravenclaw"
>close stream

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611874
The Faces of hololive

[Anonymous No.]

>Pekora doesn't even do a direct watchalong anymore.
it's over.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611889
>>42611898
bro I still use 720p90hz and its considered above avarage here, people are still using beetle as the most common vehicles

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611747
fatass

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611870
but she's a master ranked apex player who enters some tournaments and maybe will want to push for pred at some point?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611871
Not hololive

[Anonymous No.]

>>42609662
Lamy turning into one of the most autistic holos, considering the way she acted during her debut days is a funny character development

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611898
no the vast majority use 1080p60hz laptops, because there's a huge amount of kids and 3rd worldies limited by budgets in the dataset

if you're not limited by budget and gaming is your main hobby, there is no reason to stay in 1080p, it hasn't been the case for at least a decade

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611919
Lol. Lmao even

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611918
Rude.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611754
fat bitch

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611904
Uhh you know that Tokyo government chose Miko to be one of their ambassadors right?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611915
switch is a dying platform
nobody cares about nintendo

[Anonymous No.]

Why do people like to act like if being poor or living in poverty is something cool?

[Anonymous No.]

KORO, EROI.

[Anonymous No.]

that didn't sound like a sneeze Korone....

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611930
ambassador and brand ambassador are different, ESL-kun

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611927
ugly ass fat little fucker imagine being named kanker

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611925
And the vast majority of people whose hobby is gaming are restricted by budget. The vast majority of people living in the developed world are restricted by budget. Unless you are playing in the top .5%, there is no need to worry about upgrading peripherals. They won't make you play better unless you're already near your skillcap anyway

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611941
I know you retard. She's one of their tourism ambassadors.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611889
1440p for what when 4:3 is the best in every FPS game

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611934
lol
lmao

Switch surpassed PS4 as units sold, soon it will become one of most sold consples ever and it's just half its life. The only dying platforms are the californian's like snoy and micro$oft.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611928

[Anonymous No.]

Her Excellency Madam Ambassador Sakura Miko

[Anonymous No.]

I give money to these technologically illiterate girls so they can buy cats, cute clothes and pay for their dysneyland trips, not so they can buy ebin gamer peripherals.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611947
i guess you're fine eating beans every day despite making middle class wage, but i am not

[Anonymous No.]

Jesus christ, what's with the heimin spam?

[Anonymous No.]

Watch Nintendo Direct with my cute wife Ars

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2MMDMstIkOo

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611951
wut? 4:3 have less pov and less pov = worse

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611874
ENleeches

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611948
"tourism ambassador" isn't actually a real job position, it's another meme word for "brand ambassador" which in itself is also not a real job position

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611962
based

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611962
You pay for contraceptives

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611965
But I'm watching Korosan

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611977
No one cares

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611965
Back to your containment, parasite.

[Anonymous No.]

>Watching Nintadies
Grow up

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611970
Cope, the government themselves picked them to be their tourism ambassadors and there will be an official opening ceremony on the 13th

[Anonymous No.]

Korone at 60%, ND at 5%
and somehow Nintendon't's stream is louder than her

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611965
Haven't watched her in a while, she still sounds autistic/cute

[Anonymous No.]

Nintendo graduation when?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611874
Respect to the ambassadors.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611964
Told homo beggars to fuck off
niji graduation or some shit
pick your poison

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611988
Yeah, Nintendon't censors and releases half assed games.

[Anonymous No.]

Nintendo will release official fire emblem vtubers

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611986
>the government themselves
List the names of the elected officials who did this. List the date and where they appointed them. If it was the government and not some social media monkeys this info should be readily available.

[Anonymous No.]

hajimaru hajimaru

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611925
Just because your consoomer brain is telling you you'd play better if you had a better monitror/keyboard/mouse doesn't mean it's true.

[Anonymous No.]

why the fuck does korosan have a portuguese translator in chat

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612008
Official https://twitter.com/Tokyo_gov/status/1623240725730058240

[Anonymous No.]

time for nintendo shit

[Anonymous No.]

is Korone delayed, the fuck.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612019
Nice poorfag arguments

[Anonymous No.]

Didn't Korone just play Pikmin?

[Anonymous No.]

Uuuhh, based?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42611484
I'm going fucking crazy

[Anonymous No.]

>his oshi is not an elected ambassador

[Anonymous No.]

Fan Fun Island is the worst hololive concert

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612021
Korosan will go to Brazil!

[Anonymous No.]

What the fuck where's Olimar?

[Anonymous No.]

Gender inclusive olimar or no buy

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612019
sure, if "playing better" means you don't want
>motion clarity
>good pixel response time
>no ghosting
>no VA ghosting
>no light bleed
>no ips glow
>no dead pixels
>dead pixel warranty policy
because I guarantee my non-poorfag monitor has none of those, unlike your 1080p piss shit

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612034
Pekoland is a monarchy
the bad ones get sent to be processed into mochi

[Anonymous No.]

Imagine being a latefaggot he thinks being an official tourism ambassador is a bad thing.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612038
but he uses portugal flag

[Anonymous No.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uuhJk0tDPw

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612021
because kontaru is retarded
if he didn't translate to EN the PT guy would be doing the EN translations (faster)

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612023
>twitter
Post the official legislative documentation for this appointment. If the government position is real and exist there will be an official record, not a twitter post. Twitter is not the same as a government record.

[Anonymous No.]

thank God Xenocringe 3 was forgotten so quickly, what an awful franchise

[Anonymous No.]

you guys seem bitchier than usual today

[Anonymous No.]

not a single JP member played Xenoblade lel.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612053
What kind of cope is that? It's already official and there will be an official ceremony in a few days

[Anonymous No.]

Fuck swords amigo

[Anonymous No.]

Why Koro e doesn't play Xenoblade?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612044
also forgot the most important
>color reproduction
>text clarity

can't imagine using some 1080p piss shit that blurs up whatever you're trying to read

[Anonymous No.]

Nigga music

[Anonymous No.]

what the FUCK is this

[Anonymous No.]

this looks like something Towa would play

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612065
you are the one coping since you think something announced on twitter is an official position and not "brand ambassador" -tier meme

[Anonymous No.]

kamige kamige kamige

[Anonymous No.]

loud dog

[Anonymous No.]

>Mouse
YAB YAB YAB

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612068
>Koro e
Anon don't even remember her name anymore...

[Anonymous No.]

pixel shit

[Anonymous No.]

she loves disney shit too much..

[Anonymous No.]

>I am agoofy

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612079
Announced by the gov = official

[Anonymous No.]

>M*ckey
well there goes the archive

[Anonymous No.]

yikes soulless artstyle

[Anonymous No.]

looks fun

[Anonymous No.]

Fashion doog...

[Anonymous No.]

GHOST TRICK???

[Anonymous No.]

Miocya don't look!

[Anonymous No.]

Mio don't look!

[Anonymous No.]

miosha...

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

kamige

[Anonymous No.]

SHIT GAMES
HOLY SHIT

[Anonymous No.]

Mio is on good terms with Capcom now so it's fine.

[Anonymous No.]

>still no Bayonetta holo

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612096
>twitter announcement = government
jesus christ you're so out the loop with modern world, just because an agency has a social media monkey team and has a social media presence doesn't mean it's an official party

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612105
>>42612106
>>42612108
>>42612109
>>42612112
take her our capcom

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612114
Luilui...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612117
What is this retard monkey argument, why does it need to be "official" for you

[Anonymous No.]

Pekkor losing to a PoC

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612117
The ceremony will be like this, it's official you dumbass https://youtu.be/gJaETmTO7bY

[Anonymous No.]

>furry game

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612123
Blacks are athletically superior anon

[Anonymous No.]

I mean I understand why Aqua wouldn't want to stream. Look at all these shitty games that is being released and has been released in the past few years. Gaming is dead and you're all to blame
What's a gamer maid when there are no good games

[Anonymous No.]

of course its garbage games

[Anonymous No.]

splatoon 4 POOGERS

[Anonymous No.]

>splatoon
Damn another autism arc

[Anonymous No.]

Man this korone stream is pretty weird there's no BGM or anything.

[Anonymous No.]

I can hear Flare shchlicking herself at this minute.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612128
no one cares about aqua chinky

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612128
DaD is some of the most fun I've been having in months. I'm also playing Shadow Tactics and Teardown past few weeks as new games.
Your and holos loss you have shit taste in games. But yes looking at this Nintenshit Direct, it's just snorefest of meh games for children.
Even when I was a older child I already played Doom and GTA3 which were way more fun.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612126
hi jewfriend how are you doing today?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612129
>Level 5
>Garbage game
Fuck off vtard

[Anonymous No.]

Chocolate ink

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

noupagpag seething

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612122
>>42612124
"tourism ambassador" isn't an official government position, why the fuck do you think it is when you yourself post a fictional character being named into it? THINK NIGGER THINK

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612144
OH JESAS

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612137
If I recall correctly she chose the WHITE faction for this splatfest.

[Anonymous No.]

MIKEY

[Anonymous No.]

goofy??? !111

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612128
the BR craze will die and multiplayer games will heal... any year now....

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612147
>isn't an official government position
so? This sperging is so funny

[Anonymous No.]

Nintendo fell off frfr

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612139
>DaD
It's absolute garbage, only a braindead nigger would play it and have fun.
Oh wait, nevermind.

[Anonymous No.]

SHINCHAN ARC 2 LETS GOOOOOOOOOO

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612141
are you retarded? did level 5 make all of these?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612159
Filtered.

[Anonymous No.]

this is just shin chan

[Anonymous No.]

ok but where is new game plus?

[Anonymous No.]

When will Okayu force Korone to play FE with her?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612147
We know nigga, but they're still officially chosen to be tourism ambassadors by the government for Tokyo

[Anonymous No.]

MOMMY

[Anonymous No.]

why do they still make FE games

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612144
put the knoife down

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612147
Nigger, you went from "post the officials who elected her" to "it's not an official position".
I think you lost yourself in the retarded argument you created for yourself.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612157
>>42612171
you're the one who started claiming it's a real position and not the same kind of meme as brand ambassadors, why the sudden change in tone?

[Anonymous No.]

This beronica girl looks pretty hot.
>>42612174
Because they stopped making Advanced wars and have to keep the tactical rpg genre alive somehow.

[Anonymous No.]

Pukes

[Anonymous No.]

>vn ganes

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612160
>>42612163
anons say worst arc this worst arc this
but shinchan was unironically the worst game
the only FUCKING thing to do in the game that was remotely engaging was the bug hunting and fishing
how did the japanese even think that was a good game, half the time i was passing out in my chair watching my oshi play it

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612177
I'm not a 35p but it should be obvious by now that all antis at this point are fucking nijiniggers trying to cope.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612187
shinchan is their childhood. thats it.

[Anonymous No.]

Towa will be chosen as the official tourism ambassador for Pyongyang and will have a crucial role in the reunification of the Korean peninsula.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612187
>how did the japanese even think that was a good game
nostalgia

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612187
Nostalgia is a helluva drug

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612179
It is a real title given by the government even if it's not a government job or position. Why are you so retarded?

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612187
you have to be japanese, grown up in rural japan to understand

[Anonymous No.]

>dlc after dlc
zzzzz

[Anonymous No.]

twitter is pretty much dead. they can only schedule tweets now

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612187
I enjoyed watching Friend play it

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612194
It's like getting a honorary degree from a university. It means nothing.

[Anonymous No.]

>horror kusoge
Korone no don't play it

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612198
*chu*

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612203
same. it's a daily radio exercises sorta game.

[Anonymous No.]

teeth!

[Anonymous No.]

that air hockey shit looks dope

[Anonymous No.]

etrian odyssey holo when

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612212
It's on steam for free m8.
It's shit if your team mate are spergs.

[Anonymous No.]

shitty incel game

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612206
>squeenix
>kusoge

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612194
"real title" and a "real position" are not the same, learn english

or do you think 一日署長 is also real?

[Anonymous No.]

this isn't Kirby who the fuck is him

[Anonymous No.]

Samy my oshi

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612212
Omega Strikers literally had PC beta last year for like 4 months bro. It's really fun, I reached top 500 in the world in rank.
It's currently being developed and releases on PC in May or so, don't fucking play it on consoles or god forbid mobiles.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612204
Another cope, they will officially get to promote Tokyo Tourism domestically and internationally.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612179
I don't know why you're (You)ing me with the other guy, I just showed up to laugh at you

[Anonymous No.]

>re-releasing old games
nice games nintenbabies

[Anonymous No.]

best arc:train game
worst arc:its hard to say but its probably slither.io or horse fuckers arc

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612204
It's an honor. Literally honorary.
My dad got some medal that's worth jackshit aside from bragging rights, but it still made news and helped him secure a position in a non-govermental org.

[Anonymous No.]

He's really mad his oshi isn't an elected ambassador lol

[Anonymous No.]

you know i dont feel it with this direct

[Anonymous No.]

>gameboy emulation on switch
Did Nintendo finally wake up?
What the fuck??

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612212
>air hockey
Luna & Botan laughing to the point of passing out.mp4

[Anonymous No.]

>No Pokemon
it's shit.

[Anonymous No.]

>Tokyo Tower sponsorship
No Towa...
>Tokyo tourism ambassadors
No Towa...

Towa is the most oppressed Holo.

[Anonymous No.]

I hate old games

[Anonymous No.]

Reminder the Wii U had GBA and DS emulation, there's no excuse the switch didn't come with that on release

[Anonymous No.]

OMG IS THAT OLD SLOP????? YESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Anonymous No.]

based nintendo allowed dolphin

[Anonymous No.]

Who the fucks cares about GB? Gives us GBA already

[Anonymous No.]

Super Mario Land 2 is fucking dope

[Anonymous No.]

Oracle of seasons KINO

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612246
Towopressed...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612238
nousagis......

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612249
the Wii U should've never existed

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612236
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UMADACHI
UUUUUUUUUUU
UMA PIOI UMA PIOI
UMA UMA UMA UMA

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612252
AYYYYYYYYYYYYY

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612240
unironically they don't have games except new zelda lmao so they're rereleasing old shit and stuff
it's clown shit

[Anonymous No.]

man i remember the pokemon card game. that was fun..

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612221
Nigger, I think you're illiterate. Did I say real title and real position are the same in the post you quoted?

[Anonymous No.]

35GODS WON

[Anonymous No.]

https://youtu.be/ols08P7Aq8s

[Anonymous No.]

Pekwhora = loser
NouSEAgi = losers

[Anonymous No.]

Finally... GBA emulation.

[Anonymous No.]

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh gameboy advance its finally time for me to buy the expansion pack

[Anonymous No.]

Where's pokemon news you nihonjew

[Anonymous No.]

>Twitter is broken in Japan
lol

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612276
THEY JUST RELEASED A GAME

[Anonymous No.]

PRIME REMAKE LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[Anonymous No.]

Nintendo is some top tier jewish greedery and rehashing known to man, jesus christ.

[Anonymous No.]

WE love the gameboy advance!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612278
For some reason my twitter doesn't allow retweets or new tweets because I've gone past the limit,
but since when did Twitter bring the daily tweet limit back?

[Anonymous No.]

I can play all these shit for free why the fuck would i pay for this

[Anonymous No.]

Wait until this make the news, I can see the headline: popular hololive virtual virtual youtubers (Sakura Miko, Gawr Gura, and Mori Calliope) appointed as official Japanese Tokyo Tourism Ambassadors.

[Anonymous No.]

How old is Korone?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612263
>pointless pedantry
Ok? But you do understand what I am saying? Do you think 一日署長 is also a real position and not marketing?

[Anonymous No.]

ok but where's Metroid Prime 4

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612284
yeah it takes no work to emulate a game to the switch. You are truly a genius.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612281
I just want Home to be available for SV already so I can bring in Alolan Muk in...

[Anonymous No.]

for a few seconds I thought it was going to be a Ratchet & Clank on Nintendo
has any holo played them out side of this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3_jXVkfg-k

[Anonymous No.]

Prime arc LET'S GOOOOOOOO

[Anonymous No.]

Where the fuck is metroid prime 4

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612290
48

[Anonymous No.]

>Lock-on feature for FPS game
CONSOLEPLEBS LMAO

[Anonymous No.]

Polka is pregnant (with me)

[Anonymous No.]

Is this a new danganronpa?

[Anonymous No.]

Today

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612291
NTA but it's both marketing and a real position. They literally will get to promote Tokyo Tourism

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612290
95 in dog god years

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612310
Raincode seems like a new game from the same devs and also I want to fuck the shinigami girl.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612308
How did you get a phone in there?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612304
Doubt it, probably 30s.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612319
newfriend... stop outing yourself, retard.

[Anonymous No.]

lol this game is just a slay the spire ripoff

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612308
get out

[Anonymous No.]

Come on Korone this is basic gameplay, basic deckbuilding shit... just play it I'm sure you'll like it...

[Anonymous No.]

forsen's reaction is pretty much one to one mine to this Direct. God I hate 97% of consoleshit.

[Anonymous No.]

okay that rain code looks nice

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612329
go back

[Anonymous No.]

>animal crossing but with dragons
kusoge

[Anonymous No.]

Man this Animal Crossing game looks weird. Fantasy life my ass.

[Anonymous No.]

ITS FUCKING ANIMAL CROSSING

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612315
they will not, they will have their copyright protected likeness used in some marketing campaign and that's the extent of it

holos have already been brand ambassadors before, lik botan and someone else were dying light 2 brand ambassadors, they played the game on stream once

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612331
Go back in time and pick up a PC fag.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612291
But you're the one being pedantic. It's just a title given to celebrities in order to promote tourism.
You're the one pushing the "real position with pension scheme mandated by amaterasu the royal highness of rising sub land". It's a title, a real title that the government's public relation people confer to promote tokyo so they can use their likeness in posters and shit.

[Anonymous No.]

Korone sing along...
I miss Korone's utawakus...

[Anonymous No.]

Minesharts balding

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612330
>smt v copypaste but troony

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612340
???

[Anonymous No.]

test

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612339
But they're appointed by the government, so it's different

[Anonymous No.]

ARKGODS

[Anonymous No.]

ark roru

[Anonymous No.]

Korone sounds so bored and unimpressed.

[Anonymous No.]

>tales of remaster
Someone wake Subaru up.

[Anonymous No.]

No more Ark...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612346
>troony
/v/ please leave

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612353
I know I am with this shit.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612349
>ban evading

[Anonymous No.]

I keep forgetting that we're in 2023...

[Anonymous No.]

ROCKMAN EXEEEE

[Anonymous No.]

god I fucking love minecraft

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612354
Retard, she was already pretending to play after she finished Abyss because it's already on PC.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612361
BotW2 any day now!

[Anonymous No.]

korosan play powapro...

[Anonymous No.]

MOMOTETSU HATE!!!

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612360
You're mistaken...

[Anonymous No.]

NOOOO NO MORE TRAIN GAME

[Anonymous No.]

NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[Anonymous No.]

PLEASE ANYTHING BUT A NEW TRAIN GAME HOLY SHIT

[Anonymous No.]

>Momotetsu
OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[Anonymous No.]

>train shit
NOOOOOOOOOOOO

[Anonymous No.]

MOMOTETSUCHADS WW@

[Anonymous No.]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[Anonymous No.]

TRAINS!!!

[Anonymous No.]

Rockman exe arc incoming... I can feel it...!

[Anonymous No.]

Madam Ambassador Miko

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612379
NNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[Anonymous No.]

WE LOVE TRAIN GAME HERE FUCK OFF EoPs

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612370
um

[Anonymous No.]

Best news of the day

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612370
Told you it was BotW2!

[Anonymous No.]

BotW was only alright

[Anonymous No.]

botw2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Anonymous No.]

>BOTW again... BUT DARK
Switch 2 when

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612386
Madam Mori and Madam Gura too

[Anonymous No.]

All these games look boring, Japan can't make good games anymore

[Anonymous No.]

A FUCKING CAR LMAO

[Anonymous No.]

>voice acting
OH BOY

I CAN'T WAIT TO GRAB MY DODONGO'S

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612350
1 or 2 of them dont even know jp and most likely never visited the country so i hope not

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612404
agreed my fellow /v/ermin

[Anonymous No.]

AQUA OCARINA OF TIME WHEN?

[Anonymous No.]

Hopefully I can shag Zelda in this game, she looked cute in breath of the wild.

[Anonymous No.]

owariii

[Anonymous No.]

what an awful direct

[Anonymous No.]

rate the stream

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612408
/v/ loves nintendoshit

[Anonymous No.]

Absolute snorefest games for children.

[Anonymous No.]

I sleep.

[Anonymous No.]

Nye

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612410
Aqua is not a gamer maid anymore, anon.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612417
videogames suck
videogames suck
ALL videogames SUCK

[Anonymous No.]

where is botw2?

[Anonymous No.]

https://litter.catbox.moe/bo2xz1.jpg KOROSAN
KOROSAN KOROSAN

[Anonymous No.]

yeah time to finally lie down, 15 minutes until peak burgerhours after all

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612418
also /v/: "GUIZ PLZ COOM TO NEW COOMBAIT GAME!!!"

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612417
Tirusu of za kingu domo hype.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612407
>so I hope not
They've already been appointed as the ambassadors.

[Anonymous No.]

I'm glad Koone might try Rockman.exe

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612426
pubes :)

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612417
korone is cute so it was good

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612437
Just watch R*r*ka if you want some rockman.exe streams so much.

[Anonymous No.]

can't wait for this group to play the new momotetsu
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2M2M-9mw0o

[Anonymous No.]

How are Level-5 permissions? Has anyone streamed them?

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612451
This collab was extremely fun

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612453
Korone streamed Mushashi something in last days

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612437
I hope she understand the system better.
>>42612447
I do, and it's very aneurysm inducing...

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612451
What the hell is this group?

[Anonymous No.]

They won't play the Momotetsu for the same reason they don't do global Geoguessr.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612453
Yokai Watch?

[Anonymous No.]

Kiara and Ina woke up just for the direct and now they're going back to sleep and snuggling.
I'm so fucking jealous of these girls, goddamn it.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612454
I also enjoyed it a lot

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612437
Don't believe her lies...
https://files.catbox.moe/9srhhy.jpg

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612462
I too would like to cuddle k*eki's ass

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612460
Why AREN'T they doing global geoguessr? Are they pussies? What are they seemingly afraid of?
Taiwan? But Cover already abolished CN section so who cares?
I legit don't understand why no one is doing global GeoGuessr, the way it's PLAYED BY 99% of ALL GeoGuessers.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612470
No one wants to GeoGuess in your shitty country, Pedro.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612470
Scared of coming out as ignorant sice they don't know anything about the world outside Japan

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612460
So they're going to play Momotetsu, nice.

[Anonymous No.]

>>42612470
They just don't know shit a out the rest of the world.