/jp/ - Otaku Culture

[Anonymous No.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzWUs_f3pyM

[Anonymous No.]

These feels just won't go away

[Anonymous No.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oM6eZJRurFk

[Anonymous No.]

>>9466111
epic win anon

[Anonymous No.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k70iKGjr-Zs

[Anonymous No.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLc9q_tlMDs

Good bye /jp/, the time I spent here were fun.

[Anonymous No.]

There are only a couple of minutes of silence while I leave the shelter of one of the established safehavens. Everything around me is deadly stilt, the walls covered with yellowed posters and layers upon layers of ripped wallpaper. Years worth of changing decoration. The sound of my own breathing fills the inside of the mask. An extra precaution for when I hit the surface. One of the old posters gets my attention for some reason. It's some bird in a small toy kitchen. I can't remember when was the first I saw it, but it brings back some memories. A short, muffled laugh is all that comes out. No time to reminiscence, I can already see the light on top of the stairs covered in trash and pamphlets. Ground level. [0].

Just have to be quick. Find a new pack of people, head into a safehaven and stay there. Easy plan, idiot proof. Someone jolts me away from my planning, a quick shove on the shoulder as they run past. "suck my cock dude xD" they yell not even looking back. I try to not take it personally. The streets are as busy as ever, you'd have to look closely to notice the decaying buildings and piles of debris all over. A city that lost all of its people, leaving me behind. At least it feels that way, I should be wandering empty streets instead of dealing with active hordes of people sharing and laughing. They seem happy. I wonder why I can't join in their joy. Give the straps a quick tug, adjusting the containment mask closer. Don't really want to now.

[Anonymous No.]

Then, a low rumble. I know what it means, but there are still no good places to take shelter in sight. No time. The rumble grows louder and closer and I'm starting to feel the desperation grow stronger.
No. No time for games. Get to high ground, wait it out. I turn the corner and bust open an old door with rusty locks. A stairwell. Railing is long gone and the first two steps are crumbled, but it should hold my weight. Not that it matters, there is no time to look for another place now. Two, three, four floors go flying past as I keep going up. This should be enough. I open the door, revealing some sort of old auditorium, long abandoned. All the windows are broken, with seats in disarray. This place was left in a hurry, like most of them.
I walk towards the windows, taking care to brush away the broken glass on the floor with my boot. For a second all I have is the agitated breathing and the pounding in my chest. And then, like a scream, hundreds of people running through the streets. I can't really make out their faces, but the long, dark haired wigs with a single plastic white flower shows their allegiance better than any uniform or flag. I give a long sigh. These many will take a few hours at least, I'm not going anywhere for now.

To pass the time, I take out the beaten up laser pointer that was given to me on my first day. It has seen far better days, it might still have some juice left for the day before it resets. I find myself reminiscing again about those better days as I keep tagging head after head that keeps streaming through the ground levels. Maybe there's someone out there still checking what I report from here. Maybe they will come in quickly, before the horde does too much damage. Just the blaze of tactical bombardment, silence, and the hum of people going into the fallout to loudly discuss what just happened.

[Anonymous No.]

Just as I'm growing bored of filing reports that will never be read, something moves in the corner of my eye. I crouch down defensively, coiled and ready to just take flight. Don't want to bother anyone. It moves again. A bundle of dirty comforters and blankets, with a pair of eyes shining out of a small opening. He doesn't look like much. I move towards him, extending a hand. "Are you alright?" I offer.
What starts is a long litany. Low, almost a whisper, but constant and determined. It takes me a few seconds to figure out what the decrepit figure is saying. "It was always like this, it never changed. I changed. It was always like this, it's not so bad. It was always like this, it never changed..."
Over and over. The eyes don't focus on me, staring off into the distance, seeing through the walls. Glassed over. He's too far gone, and it's not the first of his kind I've encountered. It's a shame, but it's just one of the possibilities that awaits anyone that choose to remain living here.

The constant rumbling is dying off now. A quick glance down at the street shows every single available surface covered in propaganda posters and leaflets. They went and came, no firebombing to contain them. Just like ocean tides. I leave my new friend to his corner and head down the stairs. I still needed to find a new shelter before the end of the day.

[Anonymous No.]

Just my luck. Probably to protect their stead, there are a couple of men picking up the litter in front of a stairwell. I go closer, avoiding a group of teenagers running in the middle of the street. I finally get to read what the sign hastily stenciled says. "Victor November" I mouth the words.
"Tango Sierra" one of the men nearby completes for me. "Are you coming in?"
I shrug. "This is what I'm here for."

I follow them down the stairs and through the heavy doors. Lights, the din of conversation and a center board with plenty of information. I check the clock, it's been 6 hours already for today. As I peel off the protective mask and prepare to settle in, I wonder why do I keep doing this to myself. Why didn't I just joined the people leaving the city in droves years ago. Someone hands me a cup of tea in what is a relatively clean mug. I still wonder what happened to them, if they ever did find a better place. Hope they're happy, wherever they are.

[Anonymous No.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8JSikL0SiA

>/jp/

[Anonymous No.]

>>9466197
>>9466203
>>9466204
>>9466208
Bravo.

[Anonymous No.]

Oddly fitting

[Anonymous No.]

Post-apocalyptic/Farewell /jp//melancholic music thread?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qw5ceEXw2xY