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About Mishiro

  • Birthday 11/22/2001

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  1. Mishiro got the gist. He went back to the <<Garden>> after he left the first time. She'd already left and instead he found a man and his daughter. The former... Her gray gaze dropped and she silently hoped whoever that unfortunate person was had reached a better place now. Unfortunate. Unfortunate. Was it truly unfortunate? Difficult mobs hardly spawned in <<Gardens>>, and with the right equipment and skills, players could easily take them on or at least be able to run away from the encounter. It was a matter of inexperience. Years had passed, yet it still remained a fact that players didn't know how to allocate their stats and purchase the right enhancements - min/max their builds - to keep themselves safe. Was he crying? She took another step closer. Reaching up, she gently patted his head with a kind smile. It was nice of him, taking Katsumi in when no one else could - even if she had likely been a complete stranger at that point. "Don't cry. You did what you could," she said softly. Ruffling his hair in a fond manner, she pulled away and tugged her scarf upwards, suddenly conscious of the gesture. As she did, she found herself looking quickly over to the small girl playing with Felli in the sand. It was difficult to imagine what Katsumi went through, with the smiling brightly as she built a sandcastle. "So," she began in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. "You haven't tired of Oreos yet?"
  2. That was... surprisingly pleasant. And quick. He accepted her apology so casually that she thought there was no point in the past months she had spent worrying after all. Perhaps she should have set her fears aside. Made an attempt to resolve this earlier. He needn't have felt the necessity to bow his head as soon as they met. As she stepped closer and extended a friendly invitation to spend some time together as they did the previous event, her gaze shifted upwards to meet his - betraying, just for a short moment, a mix of hesitation and newfound interest swirling in pools of silvery gray, as if she was just waiting for him to take it back. Waiting for him to say something unpleasant and completely unexpected. Waiting for him to leave. It was no wonder the few words he spoke in return sent her heart fluttering. Mishiro blinked. "Is that so?" A faint smile formed on her lips. Her slippered feet sunk softly into the pale sands underneath as she made her way back to the rest of the party, walking just a step ahead of him. "I find being in your company pleasant as well." With Katsumi and the little blue flame that had taken a liking to her running off to play in the sands, the two were left alone together. She didn't mind. Sometimes, she found the silence more comforting. However - recalling a remark the young blonde girl had made with a laugh - she wanted something else today. "Yamashiro. Is that your name?" the girl inquired, pronouncing the name carefully. Mishiro glanced at the boy at her side. Almost as if she was gauging a reaction. She already knew he had to be Japanese; she learned his surname and then his sister's given name in a conversation they had over coffee once, but she had yet to learn his given name. "Pronunciation-wise, it comes very close. But how is it written?" She marked that down as another coincidence. First, it was their meeting - where she just happened to be drawing a picture of a woman who resembled his lost sister. Second, the multiple times they met each other in events and otherwise plain excursions without having invited the other. Now, their names. His given name sounding close to hers. What an odd pair they were. "Hm? Oh..." She glanced down at her outfit, then acknowledged the compliment with a nod. "Yours looks good on you, too." Approaching the spot by the shoreline she had left earlier, she found that the impending water fight had prematurely dispersed, leaving Arabelle - still dripping wet from the bucketful of water - at the refreshments table with Dustin, and Hazado speaking to a handsome young man in a swimsuit. She spotted a volleyball net set up at an open stretch of sand beyond the groups of players milling about the party's main area and colorful beach chairs and umbrellas were lined up neatly along the seaside. Some party goers had wandered closer to the sea, however no one had actually waded too far into the water yet. They reached the refreshments table and Mishiro quickly understood why a few players were committed to staying within the nearby areas. Sweets, beverages, fruits, savory treats.... There was such a wide selection that she didn't know what to choose first! Mishiro stayed still, perusing what each table had to offer. Arabelle was by the desserts table - naturally - and the small purple-haired girl was holding up a forkful of lemon cake. Nearby, a player took a skewer from a grill and another mixed a beverage at a bar. After a few more moments of careful consideration, she approached the bar and took a blueberry smoothie. She hummed thoughtfully to herself as she perused another table then lifted her head to look at Huginn. "So how did you meet her?"
  3. Walking alongside the shoreline, Mishiro looked calmly out at the crystal blue waters lapping against the shore. Her untucked hair waved gently with the salty sea breeze, and she recalled the same scent had wafted through the air when her close friend promised to take her to the beach a few months ago. Certainly, it didn't go unfulfilled. They were missing a third member. But right in the moment... this was a pretty view. She never once learned what the sea looked like when viewed from the shore, not even in the past three years of her stay. The small hint of a smile pulling up her lips faded when she turned around. "Huginn." Standing in front of her was the person she had declined to invite. She found it unlikely he came of his own volition. Of course her meddlesome friend would find a way to bring him here. Or someone else informed him of the party. Stepping out of the water, her gray eyes flicked over to the groups of partygoers occupying the main part of the event before she let out a small unsteady breath and turned back to him as she began to speak. "About that time, I..." Only to be met with the sight of her former client-turned-friend bowing down at her. What? She consciously weaved a hand through the fabric of her white scarf and surprise flitted through her expression. He was apologizing. Mishiro stood in stunned silence. The first thing he did upon meeting her was apologize. She only gave heed to the small girl who had appeared at his side when he rested a hand on her head and called attention to her presence. Clearly, they approached this with two different perspectives of an event at hand. "There's no need to apologize." Because she firmly believed it was on her. She didn't know how much it mattered to him but in the end, it was her who left him in the <<Garden>> only to come back minutes later, expecting him to still be there - and it was her who had the irrational fear of reaching out to give an apology. She looked at him. The person she thought she befriended only days after first meeting Pinball. They barely even talked recently. Would that still warrant her the title of a friend? How much did it all matter to him? "On that day, I left the <<Garden>> for a short while. I failed to inform you. It's not your fault for leaving when I already did. I'm sorry about that." The air was heavy, until the girl at his side stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Mishiro's waist. She unintentionally stiffened at the sudden contact. A touch uncomfortable, she glanced at Huginn who regarded the scene with a rare fond smile, and she gradually relaxed at the girl's hug. Shi...? Was that his name? Gently, she patted the blonde on the shoulder and pulled away. "Katsumi," she repeated the younger girl's name. Taking a small step back, she held out her hand. "My name is Mishiro. It's nice to meet you." Mishiro turned back to Huginn and her expression softened. "I... find that you're always the person I end up spending these events with. Strange." She stopped beside him and inclined her head to the rest of the beach party. "Shall we? I want to see what the refreshment tables look like."
  4. August 30, 20xx ❄ summertime sadness --Mishiro uncorked the vial and drank. She drained it of its contents and dismissed the empty glass bottle to her inventory. Slipping her stockings and combat boots back on, she turned and reached for the shoulder bag on her bedside table - only for her gaze to stray to the unusual fixture on the wall just slightly above it. Her hand fell back to her side and lightly curled over soft white sheets. Without barely making a sound, she swung her legs over to the other side of the bed and approached. She picked it up for the first time in a long while. Lifting it from the place it had earned, hanging from a brass-plated hook where a picture frame would have been better suited, Mishiro absentmindedly traced a finger along the red paint's uneven ridges. She turned it over in her hands, tugged at a red string tied to a small hole on one of the mask's sides. The last she had heard of her foregone friend's actions was a few days ago. Two players, both beneath level five, and a stronger player - a friendly but troubled girl Arabelle knew well enough that the shock was palpable on her face when the rumors were confirmed to be true. All of them, green cursors. Decidedly innocent. Turning the kitsune mask over in her hands once again, she looked deeply into its vacant eyeholes as if to silently repeat the same burning question she had asked that day. "Why?" The girl betrayed no emotion as she hung his mask back on its hook. Mishiro took her shoulder bag and reentered her cafe, locking the backroom door as she left. The sign had been flipped to 'Closed' earlier and there was only one other present; a small purple-haired girl who had seated herself at the table nearest the door and enjoyed her free cake with a satisfied smile. She double-checked the equipment and coffee machines behind the counter before quietly approaching the only occupied table. "Shall we get going?" The walk to the beach party was short and fairly uneventful. Arabelle had... persuaded her to attend in her usual demanding manner - i.e. she didn't back down until she heard an affirmative - but currently, she wasn't forcing a conversation outside of a few outward musings on the boy's swimsuits and a question. Would she invite Huginn? Mishiro gave it some consideration, then firmly shook her head. "No. I don't particularly need to. Invite him yourself, if you want him to come by." Dull grey eyes fixed onto the path ahead. It was not open to discussion. The pair remained in relative silence until they arrived at their destination and quickly ducked into changing stalls before the lines started to form. Mishiro pulled the curtain to the side. She stepped out into the sunlight in an astonishingly uncharacteristic, and revealing, string bikini that matched the color of her hair. Unbound black hair fell past her waist, with a portion tucked into the white scarf loosely wrapped around her neck, and an occasional lock fell over her grey eyes. If she even noticed the attention being drawn to her tall, graceful figure and the amount of fair skin she showed, the girl hardly gave an indication. She crossed an arm across her bare midriff and regarded the beach mansion and festivities before her with the same distant, neutral expression. A crystal flower, even underneath the morning sun. "I never expected to see that style on you, but it's very fitting," she responded to her friend simply with a nod. Arabelle's outfit gave off a certain illusion of modesty with the flowing white seethrough worn atop her striped bikini. She had thought it was slightly unlike her, until she took a second glance. It was stylish, yet innocent, yet also partly alluring; appealing to as many gazes as possible, and likely the best entry to a swimsuit competition her friend could come up with. Then Mishiro inclined her head. "No. I was simply following the dress code." Arabelle's excitement over the swimsuit competition the past few days had been infectious. So much so that a part of her started to look forward to it as well... perhaps even deciding to put some effort on her own outfit. Before she could protest, the small purple-haired girl grabbed her by the wrist. Leading her forward to socialize. Mishiro didn't know anyone else present aside from Arabelle, so any sort of mingling was naturally met with some hesitation. Freeing her hand from her friend's iron grasp, she trailed after the other at her own pace. She stopped a step behind her friend, slightly appreciative of finding one familiar face. Brawn over brains himself. She inclined her head at the DPS she had worked alongside during the Easter event quest - and also knew long before, from a story someone once told her. "A pleasure to be reacquainted." As the two interacted, she allowed her gaze to wander about. Already, a fair amount of players - and even a few well-known frontliners - had gathered with many more sure to come. They formed their own little circles, a few weaving in and out of player groups to greet their friends and acquaintances, and... Dumping a bucket of water over her friend's head, apparently. Mishiro looked at Arabelle. Then she looked back at Haz, who she knew to be Arabelle's friend. They were certainly close enough for the latter to invite the girl to his wedding, so she already knew she was missing much context. However, she knew one thing for sure: she was not going to be involved in this. "...Hello." Returning his greeting, she excused herself from the brewing water fight and walked down the shore. The waves lapped at her feet and she looked, almost longingly, out at the glistening blue sea. She remained there, silent, for a few moments before she turned and naturally gravitated to the refreshment table.
  5. Mishiro

    [PP-F1] Allision <<Nature's Treasure>>

    Why, indeed. It was difficult... increasingly difficult to maintain her outward composure when his eyes met hers. He wouldn't answer her question, but he looked so... sad. Tired. Deeper emotions she couldn't read swirled underneath familiar pools of blue. Mishiro wanted to scream at him. Pull him close, beg him to turn from his path of self-destruction and stop. She wasn't ignorant. She wasn't naive. He told her himself that he had sinned: he killed someone, cut another's arm off, and hurt many more. He told her he wanted it. Why was he looking at her - right now - in that way, then? Why would he continue to do something he already knew was wrong? Why would he reject help when it was already being offered to him? Why would he yell at her to leave then speak to her again behind a mask? Why would he have thought she would take a stranger's words better than his. Why did he want to die? She didn't understand. She wanted to understand. He drew away from her. If she had any humor to find in this hopeless situation, she would have laughed at the irony of it. He was the one backing away this time. He was the one running away when he wasn't supposed to. It was exactly what she did the last time they met. "Please," Mishiro breathed. "I'm right here. I don't want you to do this to yourself anymore! If you're feeling lost⁠—" He vanished, leaving her grasping at empty apologies and the cold remnants of his familiar's shadowy mist. [He stood by the doorway, awkwardly looking about with an expression that dictated he was rather unsure of himself. Curiously, she drew closer. She could recall feeling the same way when she first ventured out of the inn without Roman's company. "Are you alone today?"] —Then I'll be here to help you make sense of everything, like I once did. Desperately, her eyes flared an icy blue. She clutched his discarded mask to her chest and scoured her surroundings for any lingering presence. Duels with Roman taught her how to fight against stealth. Keep her senses sharpened. Be alert to even the smallest disturbances. But she had never seen any need to learn what she should do when it came to finding someone retreating while in stealth. There was no hesitation in her as she stepped forward and took off at full speed. She passed the boundaries of the <<Garden>> and disappeared into the thick forest beyond. Pushed her speed to the limits and felt the weariness from the sudden overexertion of energy seep in from the corners of her mind. Faster. There was no point. Faster. Roman's coat snagged on a branch and tore. Faster. But if there was the smallest of chances that he would see her and stop and turn around— She came to a stop, facing the empty woods and the reality that she couldn't find a stealthed player who did not want to be found. Mishiro fell to her knees, panting. She wrapped her arms around herself and a small broken sound escaped from her lips. Alone. Alone again. A mix of emotions brewed like a storm in her heart and she didn't know how to release it. Wasn't this why she chose to abstain from emotional attachments in the first place? Mishiro discarded a gauntlet and rubbed her eyes. She picked up Pinball's mask and rose to her feet, catching her breath. Ice blue eyes surveyed her surroundings for danger and she steadily regained her bearings. Turning back the way she came, she delicately dropped the mask into her inventory and picked up her glove. She returned to the <<Garden>> and leaped over the fence. The girl looked about, searching. "Huginn...?" Pleasebetherepleasebetherepleasebethereidon'twanttobealonerightnow. He wasn't there. ❄❄❄ THREAD SUMMARY Huginn 1 SP 270 Col 4 T1 Materials Mishiro 1 SP 100 Col 6 T1 Materials Pinball 1 SP 150 Col
  6. Mishiro

    [Party Sign Up] Kityuisa's Beach Party

    Tier: 1 Build: Discord (Must have ID #): Blake Harris#3771
  7. Mishiro

    [PP-F1] Flights of Fancy

    There he remained by the doorway - frozen, as if he'd just woken up from a trance, and equally unsure. She thought it resembled the expression he wore back then, when he stumbled into that cafe at the second floor and looked about aimlessly as if he'd stepped in with no knowledge of what he wanted to do. It was rather odd. Mishiro tilted her head to the side slightly and entwined her fingers underneath the table, meeting his stare with an inquisitive one of her own. ⁠—Pinball had strikingly blue eyes. Movement caused them to break eye contact. This time, she recognized the players entering the inn. Mishiro gave them a polite nod as the pair of regular lodgers passed by her table and made their way upstairs - a gesture they returned with a smile and a quick glance at the boy standing by the entryway. They disappeared into the second floor, and she turned back to Pinball. He'd inched closer to her table. He didn't proceed any further, and somehow, neither did she urge him to. "Waiting for someone." Sliding her tray of food forward, she allotted enough space and stood her sketchbook on the table, facing Pinball. Occupying a large portion of the page was a drawing of a ferret standing on two legs with its head turned curiously towards the viewer. It was fully pencil-shaded with special attention given to the texture and pattern of its fur, but that all vanished at around its head and upper body - which she'd decided to ink. A bad decision, if any. She didn't know what came over her but all she could do at this point was finish it. "...and working on this. What do you think?" Off to the side of the page were blots of ink and pencil - it was evident she decided to practice on the same sheet instead of using another. Mishiro peered over the sketchbook, carefully watching him as he took in her latest work. 'What are you doing here on Valentine's Day?' she would have asked, if not for the conversation upstairs coming to a close. She closed her sketchbook and slid it to the side, then pulled her tray of food back into place. "Sorry to keep you waiting!" Mishiro turned away from Pinball and smiled as Roman approached. "You didn't take long enough to warrant an apology." "Really? That's good to hear." He stopped beside their table, absentmindedly running a hand through his damp hair. Somehow, he looked even less awake than he did fifteen minutes earlier. A brown ferret that bore a striking resemblance to the one in Mishiro's sketch hopped off his shoulder and scuttled towards her, climbing up the chair leg and jumping onto her lap. "I was just curious why they got back so early. Turns out the lines to some festivities in the Central Plaza were so long, they just gave up and returned to the inn..." He trailed off entirely when realized there was a third person in the room - and that the two younger players were facing each other as if they were just having a conversation. Subtly, he glanced at Mishiro, then back at the unfamiliar player. "Oh, hey." Roman drew closer to the seat beside her and placed a hand atop its backrest with a friendly smile. "I don't think I've seen you around here. You a friend of Shiromi?" Mishiro dropped her gaze and petted the ferret on her lap.
  8. "I thought so," she said softly. Runa was already quite strong on her own, she had inferred. Not many girls her age would be out actively searching for a chance to become stronger whilst having the loss of a loved one on their shoulders. She still had concerns about letting her fight, but Runa's determination was evident. All she needed was a reminder. "Regarding what you said earlier..." Arabelle was already looking about, playing with her scythe and bored out of her mind, but Mishiro had decided that what she was about to say held greater priority than her friend's momentary impatience. "Keep it close to you. Remind yourself of it often. It's always necessary to have a reason to fight; a goal to work towards or a set of values you wish to keep, if that makes it easier to understand." The 'hows' were important. When she tutored Roman's apprentice on the art of fighting two years ago, it was the first thing she taught. How to attack, how to counter, how to point out weaknesses in an opponent's guard... She thought they were the first things she learned in her martial arts classes, but before those came ground rules that served as lessons on their own. They fought for self-defense. They fought for competition. Etc. Recent happenings had reminded her that perhaps everyone needed a firm grasp on the 'why' first. "So every time you draw your weapon, ask yourself whether you're staying true to your reason to fight. Otherwise, find another method to accomplish what you want to do." Her voice was calm and rather stern. Mishiro tucked her armored hands into her coat pockets and turned to Runa. "Do you understand? That's my first advice for today. Consider it the most important." Before they could coordinate, their scythe-wielder had already taken off in pursuit of a mob she spotted. Mishiro caught a glimpse of it before it disappeared past the wood. She recognized Floor 11's signature mob: a fire ant that had mutated to grow ten times its usual size. They often minded their own business and were weak on their own, but they were fast and had the ability to summon reinforcements from the same colony. She glanced at the hole it had emerged from and pulled her hands from her coat pockets, quickly gesturing for Runa to follow as she moved towards the direction Arabelle had disappeared into. They emerged to find their third teammate engaged with the mob. The woods around her were dense, with closely-packed trees and undergrowth filling in most of the small gaps; it was a wonder the girl still managed to swing her large weapon freely. Not the best place to fight in, but they would have to make do. "Let's start this off, then." Mishiro stepped to the side and gestured with an open hand to the two locked in combat. "Runa, I want you to head in and assist her. Arabelle's strong enough to kill it on her own but keep your guard up all the same. I won't be fighting myself, but I'll keep watch from here and give you my feedback afterwards." That had been the plan from the very start. She came here to restock for her shop, after all. Mishiro allowed her gaze to wander, spotting a clump of greens ready for harvest. "Engage whenever you're ready."
  9. Mishiro

    [PP-F1] Allision <<Nature's Treasure>>

    Leaving. He was... leaving? Mishiro dropped a handful of coffee beans into the wicker basket beside her. All of a sudden, she couldn't focus on her task. The coffee plants she had set out to gather were pushed to the back of her mind. He was at the corner of her vision but she watched him more than she did the little blue flame that had innocently floated back to her. She stood silent and unmoving as he spoke again, hoping that something would happen, that he would change his mind and decide not to go, that he would drop his mask and shatter all of her false assumptions, that she wouldn't be left alone spiraling deeper into thoughts of what she should have done, that there would be some sort of confirmation - And that he would stay and talk, if her suspicions turned out to be true. She told him before that she would listen to anything. But nothing happened. When he turned his back, she was struck with the urge to move. Mishiro buried it deep in her consciousness and reactivated her <<Detection>>. She mechanically assessed her surroundings. Felli, floating next to her. Huginn, still engaged with the flytrap and much farther than she expected. The familiar coffee bean plantation at the other end of the <<Garden>> that she had yet to visit. Ares, turned away. "It was nice meeting you too." She turned back, but not without sparing him one last glance. He carelessly raised his hand to wave them goodbye. The crystallized sword on his wrist glinted in the sunlight - the same way it had when she looked closely at it months ago. She remembered that moment. She remembered flipping the shop sign to 'Closed' a few hours too early. She remembered the silence and the bittersweet scent of the coffee she made for herself as she seated herself at another table. Mishiro prompted Felli to return to her master. Pulling Roman's coat tighter around herself, she took a small step forward. "Will we... see each other again?" And then there was a shadow roused from its slumber. It passed through a hole in the cover of his knapsack and rose to the air like a plume of smoke, parting into clouds of black fog. Zomekko...? Her breath caught in her throat. She remembered everything. She remembered him. Mishiro breathed in deeply and left her basket behind. This was what Pinball wanted. He made that clear the last time they met. He wanted to hide behind his mask. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be alone. He didn't want her around, not anymore. But this was the same person who told her he wanted to die. Her pace sped to a brisk walk. Perhaps he only spoke to her this time around so he could tell her all that he had ever wanted to say before he finally cut her off. He told her just that when they met earlier: don't run from her problems, don't make the same mistakes he did, and have more trust in others. He told her to smile more. But what about you? He was nearing the edge of the <<Garden>> now. She threw caution to the wind and ran. "Pin!" He felt the unusually cold grip on his shoulder first. Mishiro came to a stop in front of him and held him at arm's length as she caught her breath. "It's fine now. I know." The girl lifted his mask with her other hand and she thought she felt her heart skip a beat. How long has it been since she last saw his face - and not one that she drew herself for the police department's wanted posters? She breathed out a sigh and shook her head, suppressing the urge to step closer. Mishiro wasn't smiling just yet - rather, she looked more conflicted as she took a small step back and held the kitsune mask in her hands. At a loss for words, she could only manage the first question that appeared in her mind. "Why?"
  10. She didn't. "You say that, not knowing what his condition is at the moment," Mishiro responded impassively. Her expression didn't change as the other described a situation that had been quite the funny thing to her, if the purple-haired girl's careless laughter was any indication. "It was, though I didn't expect players can still get into that state after... what they should already know. Still, it wouldn't have hurt to spare the decency." Neither of them continued down that line of thought. The girl bringing up the lead was not the least interested in doing so and Mishiro knew it was pointless. The man in question was in a bar ten floors down, after all. And Arabelle had dropped a surprising piece of information that effectively left Mishiro hooked. Huginn? Her eyes widened in surprise - at her friend suddenly bringing up a familiar name, and at the mere fact that the two knew each other. With Huginn's more withdrawn personality and Arabelle's sociable, almost overbearing, disposition, they would have gotten along well or not at all. In this case, it was the former. She smiled warmly at the thought of her former-client-turned-friend on good terms with Arabelle. "I forgot to introduce you to him during the Christmas event. Forgive me for that. How is he doing?" Turning back to Runa, Mishiro expected many things. The smaller girl bursting into tears was one of the possibilities she had considered though admittedly, it was very low on the list. Thinking back though, what else could she have anticipated from a girl she found walking about alone? She listened, silently and with a sense of worry that only grew with every word, as the girl who had been tagging along and responding to their inquiries with politeness and a sort of childish cheer spoke to them about her lost brother. Whether he was deceased or simply missing, like Huginn's sister was to him, she didn't pry any further. "I'm... sorry." And really, she didn't know what else to say. How can you comfort someone who lost their loved one? Truth be told, she had no idea how she would comfort herself if she lost Roman or any of her close friends. As they stopped at the edge of the <<Garden>> and Arabelle spun around to face them, Mishiro reached down and gently rubbed the girl's back. "I don't know how that feels. But I do know that it's much worse than I could ever imagine," she began carefully. "But you're here and trying to move forward, aren't you? That's the best thing you can do at this point. And... I think your brother would be proud when he sees you again." She drew back and glanced at Arabelle, then back at Runa. "We're within the <<Garden>>'s boundaries now. Do you want to continue?
  11. Mishiro

    [PP-F1] Flights of Fancy

    Alone at a table for four. Even though they no longer had much of a need for two extra seats, they continued claiming it out of habit. She thought that if she looked hard enough, she could almost see a girl with freshly-dyed hair seated at her usual place beside the chair directly across her. Then she blinked and it was gone. The empty seat beside her told another story. It was left vacant for friends who sometimes joined their meals though their newly-appointed guild leader had been occupying it more often recently. Leah had come by earlier, but she left as soon as she finished her breakfast. Off to spend Valentine's with her husband, the woman had declared in a more subdued voice than usual as she left for the Monument of Life. Mishiro rested her elbow on the table and lightly tapped her pen against its wooden surface. In front of her, a newly-bought sketchpad with a hard cover lay open to a half-inked drawing of a ferret. Staring aimlessly down at the paper, she tugged on the edge of her white coat sleeve and tried to decide which lines to fill in next as she waited. Tap, tap, tap. She only shifted her position when the NPC innkeeper approached her table and served her lunch. Two plates of dumplings, salad, and udon with accompanying curry broth. And it refilled her vanilla latte. She didn't start yet. Mishiro wasn't hungry, but she knew Roman disliked it when he was the only one eating at the table. "Put it on Claude's tab," she told the NPC simply. Though it usually became a lively place at lunch hour, the inn was empty today. She could only attribute it to today being Valentine's Day and the streets outside being lined with special vendors and festivities. Players milled about the streets with their friends or partners. While she would never have any gratitude towards the game for making this day feel a bit more special, she was glad many were finding their reasons to smile today. The door swung open and Mishiro raised her head, expecting to see one of the other lodgers step through the entryway. What she least expected, however, was the boy she had met one month ago standing by the door with an expression she couldn't decipher. They had talked a few more times after their initial meeting and he knew where she lived, after walking her home once. It made sense, but a part of her simply assumed he would be spending time with someone else. Mishiro set down her cup of hot chocolate and regarded him with thinly-veiled curiosity. "...Hello."
  12. January 22, 2026 "How irresponsible," she remarked with a sigh. Drinking in excess was already a fault in and of itself, but drinking in excess at ten in the morning with an excursion to the outside of the safe zone planned... the girl shook her head in disapproval as she dismissed the PM she had been rereading with a flick of an armored hand. In her other hand was the poster she had torn off the wall earlier after the request became invalid, turned into a half-finished origami iris. Folding the petals down, she held the paper flower in front of her and twirled it between her fingers. "Did you at least entrust him to the bartender?" The party of three ventured further out into Floor 11's forested region, with their highest-leveled player bringing up the lead. Mishiro placed the flower in her inventory and made another periodic check of their surroundings, taking note of the tree marker that signified the halfway point between Taft and the nearest <<Garden>>. Floor 1 would have been a safer place to gather materials, but due to Arabelle's insistence upon her hearing that there would be combat involved, they changed their plans to accommodate for the scythe-wielder's higher level. It was a waste of a Teleport Crystal for Mishiro, but she had to admit that the other had a point. Nothing would drop for them if their teammate's required loot minimum was far above the floor's maximum parameters. But... she did have a concern. "Are you doing alright so far? Keep an eye out and inform us if you find anything out of place." She frequently checked on the girl walking alongside her. Runa had asked to join the party earlier and while Mishiro had a few misgivings about allowing someone as young as her to accompany them, she decided to accept and offered to teach her how to fight. And a large part of her reasoning was what she observed when she first met the girl. "Say, Runa," she called for the girl's attention, quickly making another check in her place. "Did you have someone with you when you first came to SAO?" —The bunny-eared girl had been alone when she approached and no concerned guardian arrived even after Mishiro made sure they stayed in that same area for as long as they could. It was better for her to be here where she could keep an eye on her. [ooc: Tag @Runa and @Arabelle. This is a continuation of where we left off from that inactive OP.]
  13. Mishiro

    [OP-F1] Legends? Maybe...

    "Perhaps it has been," she affirmed with a small nod. Mishiro leaned forward on the bench, and there was a rough metallic sound as she entwined her fingers together. "But what can I say... whether good or bad, it's not easy to forget a moment that changes the course of your life." And neither was it easy to discard Mishiro's wrongful assumption that Runa was at least five years younger than her. She asked questions with the same polite inquisitiveness children often possessed and her actions and manner of dress weren't of any help. The girl had hopped off her bench and made a bold declaration. Defender of Sweets? So she was defending her candy stash? Mishiro had to withhold her giggle. It was a statement that would have been rather typical of a child playing pretend with their friends, with one important difference: she wasn't actually playing pretend. She worried the other didn't have a very clear grasp of the possible consequences and she wasn't sure where the girl came from either. "I have experience." At the quiet chime of her notification bell - she had lowered hers to a volume that wasn't as disruptive as Arabelle's full setting - she opened her PMs with a quick swipe of an armored hand and skimmed through the latest message. Arabelle was coming... alone, for some reason, but she still insisted on continuing on their excursion together. Mishiro sent back an affirmative and rose from her bench, passing the smaller girl as she approached the poster she had put up on the wall. "There was a change of plans. Whoever put up that request was... unable to continue. A friend and I are still heading out, so you can come along with us instead. That aside, you said you wanted to learn how to fight?" Mishiro pulled out the poster, folded it into a triangle, and tore off the excess. The smaller half disintegrated before it could reach the ground. "I'd be willing to give you a few tips." [ooc: Requesting to close for inactivity. If Runa wants to continue with what we started here, PM me and we'll start a separate thread.] ❄ SUMMARY ❄ Mishiro, @Kirbs, @Neopolitan, @Runa, @Jomei 1 SP 80 Col @Bell, @Arabelle 1 SP
  14. Mishiro

    [PP-F2] Dank Memes and Broken Dreams

    Unbeknownst to herself, she was smiling as he laughed. This was nice. She didn't speak to many people in the same relaxed manner, and she felt a small sense of achievement at the thought that they were getting along rather well for strangers. He was speaking up again, apologizing. "It's alright," Mishiro responded evenly. She thought he was rather odd - one moment he was loud, excitable, trying to fill in every pause in the conversation, and she couldn't grasp what he was possibly thinking and another he was more subdued, awkward, sometimes asking for her confirmation like he couldn't believe it; and he made frequent, erratic switches between those moods - but not enough for an apology. Then she remembered his teasing and decided perhaps he did deserve to say that apology. She was still red-faced when she admitted, "I don't 'get out' much either. With someone else, I mean." The cafe they had visited was now out of sight and they were walking down the cobbled path that led to Urbus's exit. She quietly admired the rows of medieval-style buildings as she sipped from her latte. Then she looked back up at him to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of her mind ever since he brought up the mountains. Beginner-safe as it was, that area was not something one would think themselves well-acquainted with after a short walk outside. "Do you leave the safe zone often?"
  15. Mishiro

    [PP-F1] A Break

    She wouldn't. Not after that day she found a girl sleeping beside the Waterfall of the Sage, unaware of the band of orange players closing in on her with their weapons drawn. They had both learned a lesson that day - that the system wasn't their only enemy but so were some of the players within it. Mishiro thought she already knew that, but experiencing it firsthand was considerably different. Memories of the thin sliver of red in her HP bar with her opponent's dagger pointed at her throat flashed across her mind. Her life was in danger. Jinx would have been matched one-versus-six if she had gone down. Perhaps... in that one instance, it might have been right to— "It was a close call, but you weren't wrong to hesitate." No, it wouldn't. Her gauntleted hand closed around a flat stone. The girl didn't feel any more unsafe now than she always did. Worrying about things that weren't very likely to happen wouldn't benefit her at this point, though she did take the necessary precautions of checking her surroundings regularly and having a Teleport Crystal at her belt as Roman had advised. She regarded the stone in her hand and tossed it into the lake, watching it skip once, twice, before going under. Mishiro watched the ripples in the lake and reached around her basket of coffee beans for another pebble. She didn't mind being alone.