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Plot Development
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About Lessa

  • Birthday 05/28/1992

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  • Guild Name
    The Vanguard
  • Position
    Guild Master

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  1. Lessa stood there, her chest heaving, her breaths coming in gulps. Her body still hummed with the energy of the past hour's escapades, and as she finally took stock of her current state, she realized her hands were trembling. She lifted both of them, and rubbed at her face. Then, after raking them through her mop of hair, she finally looked at her companion. He had finished drafting a message, and closed his menu as he updated her on the girl's whereabouts. "Yeah," Lessa answered weakly. "Yeah, sure, I'll go get her." Moving away from him, she deliberately avoided answering his first question. It was because, in truth, she had no idea if she was okay or not. And explaining that to a man whose name remained a mystery seemed like a waste of her time. So instead, she entered her guild hall. "Hey," she called out as she moved deeper into the foyer. "We're back." Again, she found herself at a loss for the man's name. She really should have demanded it before agreeing to work with him. "You're safe now." Safe was a relative term, of course, in a place like Aincrad. Lessa felt the reality of that deep in her gut, a knotted ball of fear and anguish. How long had it been since she had allowed such emotions to rear their ugly heads? "Why don't you come out, now?" Slowly, timidly, the blonde cracked open the door of the guild's storage room. Her eyes were wide, and Lessa suddenly had visions of spooked horses. It broke her heart. "Yeah, come on. You're fine. I'm Lessa, and I run the guild. You're safe, here."
  2. Lessa

    [F20 - PP] Simple Math

    "Mhmm," came her soft sound of agreement, to more-or-less everything that he had said. It all felt a bit too perfect, like the emotional scene in a Hallmark movie. Their talk of hope, and possibility, and second chances, might have made someone else gag a bit. But the truth was, such conversations had to happen in a situation as dire as this. Like her home on the sunny mountain, Lessa needed the opportunity to slip away from it all, and recharge her batteries a bit. Discussions about the future were often so bleak, but with Baldur, they had a way of inspiring something more positive. In a swift motion, the woman finished the last of her lemonade, and shifted to plant it on her bedside table. Then she straightened, her gaze level on Baldur's, as she spoke. "Lucky for you, I've got the next few days off. There's some festival happening on another floor, and I'd encouraged my kids to go to that instead of coming to me." She shook her head, laughed, and added, "even in Aincrad, you've got to give them their vacations. And honestly, I think they'll be better off because of it. Kids have to be kids." Without pausing to reflect on her own childhood, and the years of college she had lost, she rolled her shoulders. "If we're going camping, this is the best time to do it. And I bet it won't even take me long to pack." She gave him a quick wink before motioning to her fairly spartan home. "Don't have much, like I said." Of course, she could easily just carry what she needed in her inventory, but the normalcy of packing a bag was comforting. "We can go now, or in the morning. Do you have anything you need to do?"
  3. Back from Europe!

    1. Ruby
    2. Shi


      welcome back

    3. Baldur


      I know it sucks the trip is over but we missed you!

  4. Lessa

    [F20 - PP] Simple Math

    "Sun-shine forest?" she echoed, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Nope, but you've got the sun-shine part right." She paused long enough to let her gaze wander to the nearest window, where the light streamed warm and vibrant. She was like a flower, she supposed, in the way she relished in the sun's energy. Lessa still loved the rain, and found standing in it oddly purifying. But the sun, that had a way of energizing her in a way she had not explored previously. If the rain cleared her soul, the sun filled it again. "I never thought I'd end up here," she told him, finally. It was about the most general statement she could have made - here could be this house, this floor, this time, this floating castle. All would be correct. So she clarified, shifting to look at him. "Floor twenty, I mean. For the most part, I'd spent my time on the lower floors. I liked the familiarity. There was safety in wandering the old stomping grounds, you know?" Over and over, her thumb gently caressed the mug's smooth side as her eyes went a bit hazy. "But there's a lot of memories there. Good, and bad. But even the good ones were beginning to weight me down. We've been here for a long time, and surrounding myself in what's gone wasn't doing me any favors." Her gaze sharpened as she studied his face, and the smile softened into an expression ripe with emotion. "Maybe you know that feeling?" Unwilling to remain there for too long, suspended above that pit of sadness, she forged ahead. "I came to this floor to run an errand for my book keeper friend, and I fell in love with the atmosphere. It's so beautiful, yeah, but also so open, and so clean. There's a lot of possibility, here. And I think that's what I needed. Fresh, and new. Possibility." She let the word, and the weight of it, hang in the air. Folding her legs beneath her to sit more comfortably, Lessa finally paused to sip her lemonade. "Ten years ago, I wanted to be a teacher. I figured that's where I'd find myself. And there's something poetic about the fact that I got there anyway." Her grin finally reached her eyes as she motioned to her cozy home. "Not quite social studies in a public middle school, but hey, it's been an interesting road getting here."
  5. It was confusion that ghosted across her face first. Then surprise. Then relief. He came back. Later, she might commend him for his quick thinking - the disguise route was pretty genius. She might even drum up the courage to thank him for coming back for her. But at the moment, she knew that the pair had more important things to focus on. As her companion grabbed her arm and dragged her along, she clumsily shifted her heavy weapon from one hand to the other, attempting to keep it out of the way. She generally preferred to handle the Claymore with two hands, which made this particular action a bit difficult. But the idea of slowing to sheath it, again rendering herself unarmed and vulnerable, was even less desirable. So she bumped along behind him as they burst from their hiding spot, their long strides falling into sync as they pounded toward the door. Lessa knew she would fight her way out, were she forced to do so. She had never raised her blade to another player, barring duels, and the concept iced her blood in her veins. But this was life or death, and if she were asked to take a life, she would do so for her own. When had that happened? She thought, mortified. When had she decided that killing to save her own life was okay? Had the game changed her so much? But it looked as though she would not have to make such a choice - at least, not today. Lessa and her comrade hit the front door together, and she lagged behind a single step to allow him to exit first. As she followed, exploding into the sunlight, she caught her second wind. The air on her face was cool, and revitalizing. She inhaled deeply, drawing the new power into her lungs as she laid on another layer of speed. "We're going to make it," she gasped.
  6. The moment the boss was out of site, Lessa began fiddling with her bindings. Her partner in crime had tied them in a way that Lessa should be able to slip them off with a bit of work, and after only a few seconds, she had done so. Good, she thought. Something was finally going right in this whole mess of a plan. If her luck held, maybe she would get out without ever having to speak to that awful lady again. It was with that positive thought that the blonde rolled from the impossibly soft bed, crouched low, and dashed soundlessly toward the door. She held her breath as she eased the door open, peeked out, and then closed it as quietly as possible. The hallway was empty, which was all she could have hoped for. And if she had memorized the path well enough, she would be alright. She could do this. Moving into a jog, Lessa called up her HUD. The twinkle of chimes seemed to boom in the small space, and she immediately winced. There was no doubt in her mind that someone had heard, which meant she would need to move fast. Hell Rose, her massive pink claymore, materialized on her back. The rest of her armor would have to wait, however, as it would be too loud and bulky for such a mission. But the weapon gave her at least one more option, and it made her feel safer as well. The confidence, after so long feeling helpless, was as powerful a weapon as the sword. One turn, and then another, and her good luck still was not letting up. She knew she had only two more to go, if she had calculated correctly. Freedom. And then she found herself facing the boss. Lessa's heart plummeted, and in that moment of shocked disappointment, she thought she might be sick. How had the woman circled around her? But could she be surprised? The boss knew these halls - Lessa did not. Her vision hazed, but only briefly, as years of Aincrad instinct kicked in. Widening her stance, Lessa drew Hell Rose. "I am not above killing you," she stated, pumping all of the hatred she felt into those six words. She hoped it might drown out the fear.
  7. Lessa

    [PP - F11] More Hallowed Halls

    Lessa's body trembled, frustration and exhaustion mingling with fresh fear. "This is ridiculous," she managed, though her teeth threatened to chatter if she spoke further. It did not take her very long to recognize how the dark seemed to breathe life into the stone creatures. It was pure instinct that had her body weaving a bit, always attempting to stay within the ring of light cast by the the swinging chandelier. It was using her peripheral vision that she saw the uncovered faces of the angels, and every fiber of her being urged her to turn, to look, to study. Why was this desire to meet the lifeless, stone eyes so overpowering? As if to physically fight the urge, the blonde moved into a trot. It was more difficult to remain in the light, now, but she was in a hurry to distance herself. Besides, their ghostly tour guide was already on the other end of the corridor, and passing seamlessly through the heavy, iron door. "She really does have bad manners," Lessa commented, attempting, and failing, to play off of Jomei's earlier humor. It was easier to be lighthearted when stone statues were not dancing around them. She hit the door at what was bordering on a run, and did not hesitate to grab for the handle. She jerked, and with a sound that was impossibly loud, heard the lock jangle. "Open the door!" Came Lessa's suddenly panicked cry, and her balled fists pounded. "Come on, ghost lady. Seriously. Open the door." There was irony, there. Only an hour ago, she had told her companion that there was nothing worse than ghosts. Now, she was willing to admit that she had been wrong. In fact, she was pleading with a ghost for help, which was a very unforeseen plot twist. The color rode high on her cheeks as she turned back to Jomei. To her horror, the statues were much closer now. "Alright, game plan? Do we fight them?" As if in answer, she heard the melodic sound of a child's giggling. Usually, the cheerful noise reduced her to a blubbering, oozing mess of mush. But given the situation, it made her want to vomit. Yes, she was sure of it now. There were worse things that ghosts.
  8. Lessa succeeded in turning her body so that she could watch her companion depart. Blondie, she thought with a mixture of admiration and annoyance. She appreciated how well he had played the part, convincing the mob boss that he was the perfect scoundrel. The annoyance was because his performance had been a little too good. Perhaps this was where the matter of trust had come in. Would he really come back for her? In truth, she was beginning to experience the first flickers of doubt. She kept replaying the flippant way he had referred to her, and the nickname he had thrown out so casually. Probably because they had never actually exchanged names, something that still did not sit right with her. But before she had too much time to reflect, she was bounced on the massive man's shoulder as he attempted to readjust his hold. At the same time, she heard the boss speak. "Bring Blondie to my room, and draw me a bath. I plan to make the most of my thirty minutes." The curvaceous woman's eyes flashed devilishly, before she slipped in ahead of her minion. "If I had more than thirty minutes, I'd make the most of you first." Lessa understood the comment was for her, and recognized the implication of it. So instead, she did her best to ignore it while surveying their surroundings. Simple walls with few decorations. Various closed doors, and hallways branching in many directions. A left turn, and then a right, and another right. How big is this place? Her mind was still reeling, trying to remember the path they had taken, when the moved into a massive room. Here was where the decorations had been kept, like a stockroom in a department store. Paintings, statues, frilly pillows and rugs covered what seemed like every inch. As she was unceremoniously dumped onto a monster bed, she saw an elaborate lace canopy spread out overhead. It was interior decor overload, and somehow fitted the boss perfectly. "Wait here for me," the other woman purred as her brute returned from the adjoining bathroom, then slipped out the door. He closed it behind with a sharp click. "I'm just going to take a quick bath, and then you can help me pick out somewhere to wear." Her eagerness pulsed like an electric charge in her velvety voice, and she disappeared from view.
  9. Lessa

    [OP - F2][MM] Bloodhounds

    Even as the wind howled, the gargle of water over rock still reigned supreme. It was for that reason that Lessa jogged toward the rushing river, dodging trees as she cut through the forest. If Wyson was as skilled as she suspected, he knew how to hide his trail in the cleansing water. And even if the game's mechanics were not fooled by the trick, some things were simply instinctual. Perhaps he had chosen to splash through the water in an attempt to avoid leaving footprints. At least, she figured it was worth a shot. Water rushed, fine droplets splashing into the air. Had the sun shone, the spray would have glimmered like diamonds. But instead, the cold breeze caught the colder water, and sent it crashing into Lessa's flushed face. She knelt at the base of the river, fingertips dancing across the scattered pebbles, trying to determine if any clues lurked there. But what was she looking for? A discarded piece of fabric? A stray hair? A disturbed chunk of earth? At the thought, Lessa's lips drew into a tight line. She was no hunter, or tracker, in this world or the other. Was she wasting her time? 13 + 0 = 13 ID# 102008 13/150
  10. Lessa

    [F20 - PP] Simple Math

    It was a pretty picture, the broad-shouldered man blocking her doorway. Shyly, Lessa plucked up her own lemonade, and drank to give herself something to do. When he commented on the tea, she smiled at him over the brim of her chipped ceramic mug. "The only coca I have in the mornings is coca puffs." It was a terrible joke, but hell, it seemed like the day for them. Besides, there was a time when she and Baldur joked freely with each other. That had been... well, before. Before they had lost people, and lost themselves. There had been good times since, she supposed, but they had always been a little strained. Lessa desperately wanted the innocence back. If no where else, at least allow it there, with Baldur. She had drifted again, still more than a little charmed by the look of him in her house. He was telling her how much he appreciated being called upon. And he looked pretty good on her couch, too. Right at home. Then he mentioned camping. The cup was at her lips, and she sputtered on the sweet liquid. It was a small miracle that she did not dribble down her shirt, or send the sticky substance up her nose. "Oh," she began hurriedly, pulling the mug away before she could do further damage. The wooden floor creaked beneath her feet as she crossed to the bed, and sat lightly on the edge of it. "Heh, well." Words. This was the part where she had to find them, to use them. "I didn't actually mean we had to go camping." Immediately, she wished she could draw the words back. Or die. Whichever came first. "Not that I wouldn't like to. Because I would. I just - it was pretty presumptuous of me to just invite myself along on some personal trip of yours, you know?" Her voice trailed, and her happy home was suddenly filled with smothering, expectant silence. It took only a few heartbeats before Lessa blew out a held breath, her lips flapping like an exasperated horse. "I used to be better at this."
  11. Lessa

    [F20 - PP] Simple Math

    "Life's given us all lemons," she answered him easily. And it was true, given the prison they all found themselves in. There was not a single person in Aincrad that was without hardship, for everyone had made sacrifices. In that sense, there was little difference between the player on the front lines, and the player who had never left the Town of Beginnings. From time to time, Lessa would pause to reflect on that fact. If she was in a bad mood, she would allow herself to be pulled deeper into the black, and the depression that lurked there. But the sun was hot at her back, and Baldur was there. So she merely gave a tight-lipped smile as she walked to the door. It was a bit like discussing a drought after months without rain - it sucked, but time went on anyway, and they were making due. As she reached for the door, the woman glanced back over her shoulder at her friend. "It isn't much," she warned him. "Most of my stuff is at the guild hall on another floor." But she pushed open the door anyway, stepped inside, and motioned to her surroundings. The house was about four hundred square foot, and entirely open. Her queen-sized bed was nestled in one corner, neatly made, and dotted with pillows in a variety of cheerful colors. The same colors could be found in the rug beneath the square table, the towels in the small cooking area, and the blanket folded across the worn couch. Light streamed through a dozen windows, placed every few steps along the walls. It was simplicity, happiness, and calm - the three things that Lessa wanted most. And here, in her hidden piece of heaven, she could have them all. "I like it," she told him, "even if it isn't especially glamorous." I was never one for glamour, she nearly added, then bit the words back. No use rambling on about herself. Turning her back to him, she drew two coffee cups from the shelf above the oven. "I don't even drink coffee," came her confession as she placed the cups on the table, and then selected a pitcher of lemonade from her inventory. "But I drink everything out of the mugs. I just like how it makes me feel." Well, there she was, talking about herself again.
  12. Lessa

    [F20 - PP] Simple Math

    Though part of her had known he would accept the offer, she still felt a rush of both relief and happiness as he did so. "I'm glad you're up to sticking around," she told him, and she wondered if she had ever spoken truer words in her life. The woman unfurled like a lazy cat, stretching her long legs out before her, and crossing them at the ankles. Then she tipped backward, propping herself up on her elbows. She turned her face to the sun again, like a flower basking in the warmth. A flower that had spent too much time in the dark. "There are definitely worse places to take a vacation," she stated conversationally. Only when she had relaxed a bit, allowing some of the tension to leave her, that a realization slammed her with the force of an oncoming train. Vacation. Stay with her. In her house. Eyes that had drooped with sluggish content suddenly widened. In the entirety of her time in Aincrad, Lessa had never once had so much as a sleepover with another player. Not Alkor, not Daeron, not Celes, not anyone. Was that the only reason why the idea suddenly terrified her? "Well," she began, her cheeks warming in a way that she hoped she could blame on the sun. "I'm already being a pretty terrible host. If you're going to be hanging around for a while, do you want something to drink? I've got lemonade, somewhere." This may have been the perfect situation for a beer, but Lessa had removed all alcohol from her life after allowing it to become a crutch. Perhaps the game did not allow her to feel it as the real world would have, but the thought of becoming even a digital alcoholic had terrified her. Pulling her legs back under her, the blonde found her feet, and looked down at her friend. The wind tugged at her hair and baggy clothes, the latter she shoved back without thought. "And I guess you can come in, if you want."
  13. Lessa

    [OP - F1][MM] The First Meeting

    Though she fought to conceal it, worry churned in the pit of Lessa's stomach. What if there was no one willing to help? What if every person in this room simply thought about it, and decided that they had better things to do? She had begged that they operate based on their own morality, and Aereth had offered a bit of coin, but would that be enough? As such, she nearly deflated with relief as the first player approached the spot where she and her companion stood. The dark haired young woman tugged at Lessa's memory, but she had no name to put with the face. So she merely offered a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hestia. I know we'll definitely benefit from having a healing tank on board." After a quick glance, she also added, "And whatever guidance you can provide, given your experience." This was a frontliner, that much she could recall. When she turned to the next player, her entire demeanor softened. "Baldur," she replied, the word as breathless as a prayer. There was something impossibly comforting in seeing her best friend during such a tense time. Her smile warmed, but then slipped away as her blue eyes hardened. "Not someone I knew, well, no. But I had spoken to her a few times, when I had run into her in my friend's book shop. She was a close friend of Regina's." Her jaw clenched instinctively at the memory of Regina's distraught sobs. Loss was to be expected within the floating castle, but nothing dulled the horror of witnessing a friend's fresh grief. Finally, she looked to the tiny player with the moss-colored hair. The eagerness in her round face softened Lessa's expression once more. "Hello, Fae," she answered. "It's a pleasure to meet you, and I appreciate your willingness to help." @Hestia @Baldur @Fae
  14. Nearly thirty players have been murdered in less than a week, and the killer is still at large. Come help with the investigations during SAO-RPG’s Plot Team’s first event. While this will run for much of the summer, you should get in on the action early! 


  15. Lessa

    Woe Isn't Me

    Hey hey. Hope you have a good time here.