Oscar

Oscar would not abide this harlot's existence any longer. If his mom groups on Facebook found out that he had stumbled upon this den of perversion and didn't do anything about it, they would cancel him on all of his social media, including Twitter. Oscar couldn't afford to be Twitter canceled. So, he rushed in and followed up Night's attack with one of his own. Tesseleth's Fury carved a dark arc through the air. Then, it sliced a deep red gash across the center of the boss's model. Then, he hopped back a few paces to leave room for his party's follow-up attack. Bahr liked to go balls deep and Oscar wasn't about to get caught up the whatever anime protagonist move the man brought to the table next. And then there was Freyd. Honestly, he had similar concerns about what Freyd would do. It was almost like they were living in an anime or something.

Oscar sighed as Bahr delivered yet another strike. Oscar had spent all this time trying to convince Bahr that whatever opinion the man had formed of him hadn't been entirely accurate. He snapped his fingers, a pulse of emerald energy engulfing him. The energy seeped into his body, the red gashes still marring his avatar fading away as his health bar was topped off with his skill. "Were allies? I suppose you might be right. Consider this my resignation, then." "I've told you before. When a child has a gun on you, they cease to be a child. They're a threat. All your 'no one has the right to be judge, jury, and executioner' isn't going to save you when he makes his move. You're drunk on your own power. Past victories against unthinking, unfeeling opponents have made you cocky. You think you can win against a conflict with Tyson and his organization because you've won every fight you've picked in this game. You haven't played his game though. Trashing my store? Kidnapping Conciliator? Those were love taps. I know what this child is capable of. You're expecting a straight fight. A one-on-one where you get carried by your flashy little sword. You won't even see him until he's already taken away everything you give a damn about. The Guild? It'll be gone. Lessa? She'll be dead. Where will your fight be when that happens? Your morals?" Oscar looked up towards the sky. A flash of lightning lit up the horizon. One... Two... Three... The clouds overhead began to rumble. A loud thunderclap resounded. Oscar spoke again, his voice half drowned out by the sound of thunder. Bahr would still hear him, but whatever eyes Tyson had to have on him wouldn't. At least, that's what Oscar hoped. "At least, if they think I don't care about you all anymore, I can buy you guys some time to prepare." Oscar wasn't a martyr. He wasn't trying to be. But if he could take some heat off of them - even if he severely damaged his relationships in the process - it would be a role he would gladly fill. The rain began to abate, the storm disappearing. "This goes well beyond Tyson anyway. His isn't the only organization that wants to sow death and destruction among the players. I'm declaring war on all Players who wish only to harm the innocent. You can try to stop me but you and I both know that you aren't going to kill me."

"Well this is kinky," Oscar said. "Are we certain that the box rating was accurate? I don't much think kids need to be seeing a dominatrix and her three gimps." Good Christian values were something that Oscar only held close to his heart when it was convenient. When he needed to be outraged about something. And if the Christian Moms Against Video Games could see the scene that had unfolded before them, they would be apoplectic. They had to do something about this den of debauchery, boss fight be damned. It seemed, however, that saving the gimps from their unholy, torturous existence was part of the fight itself. Night freed one, his soul ascending towards the heavens now that it wasn't weighed down by the feminine wiles of Hel. Oscar made his way over to another of the soldiers and, with deft hands, undid the lion's share of the locks that bound him to this place. "Hold on, my brother. We will keep your virtue safe from this harlot."

Oscar laughed. "If that be the case, I might start manning the shop again. I really only show up to fill the occasional order. It would be nice to have some customers again." He left out the part about most of his business being driven away by the homicidal loose end from real life. Oscar slid the money back to Valentine and shook his head. "Keep it. The things I kill for Col drop far more than this in a fraction of the time. I'm not doing this to get paid. My business hasn't been profitable since I started it. 400 isn't gonna change that." Oscar said the last bit with a laugh. True, the odd request from Frontliners or questers gave him a small cash infusion, but it was all almost immediately spent via his acts of philanthropism around the game. Val's sum would be a drop in the bucket compared to what he'd already lost. It was mob grinding that kept him in the black. "I'll catch you later though. Like I said, if you need a hand on anything, you know how to reach me." Thread Summary Valentine - +3 SP [+1 Quest, +1 Page, +1 Bonus], 900 Col [500 Quest, 400 Page] Oscar - +4 SP [+1 Page, +1 Bonus, +2 Mega Slime Farm]

His team's health bars resided in the upper-left corner of his vision. While everyone had taken some minor damage as a result of Orgoth's last attack, it wasn't enough to panic over. Even with the loss of their collective Battle Healing, the team could easily work through it. With one major exception. Like tumblers in a lock, each of the individual events that led to their tank being almost immediately reduced to under half of their health clicked into place. Oscar stopped cold and cast his gaze over to @Ariel - The Crowned Lion, exasperation plain on his face. Oscar didn't have the time to criticize the woman's rationale for switching out of her tank set. Or Howling in the first place. There would be time for that after the fight. For now, Oscar would press his thumb and middle finger together of his free hand and snap. Restorative energy pulsed out from his hand, washing over the members of his party and healing the wounds they had sustained thus far. Ariel was still too low for comfort, but they had another healer. Hopefully Zandra would be paying attention. PARTY I PARTY II

A team of five Players had just absolutely dumpstered the first boss of this dungeon. In response to this, Cardinal seemed to cycle through its Spotify playlist to some background music that captured the essence of what the Players had just done to Hrym. It was down to one final attack, but Oscar was currently sailing towards the bucket and not at all able to attack right now. So he did the only thing he could think to do. "YEET," he exclaimed as he contorted his body to throw Tesseleth's Fury at the giant. The moment after his axe left his hand, Oscar crashed through the opening to the lower decks like a bat out of hell. "GOOOOOOAAAAAALLLL," could be heard bellowing from below the decks as Oscar's axe buried itself once again in Hrym's face. An explosion of black fire engulfed the massive brute, bringing its health down to zero. Without a captain at the helm, the boat was sent flying though dimensions until it finally scuttled itself in a land of mist and fog. Oscar staggered out from below decks, surprised that a boat made of fingernails could survive such a heavy landing. "I think we can all agree that I was the MVP that fight. Two Fallen procs and I scored a goal." He brushed off the dust from his shoulder and collected his axe before diving over the side of the boat. They were on a roll and Oscar was intent on keeping that going.

By some cosmic fluke, Oscar had wound up getting paired up with a woman going through the exact issue he was. The sheer ludicrousness of the coincidence left Oscar speechless - if only for a moment. He cracked a smile and slumped forward just a bit, his hand moving up to the bridge of his nose. "I went and got myself worked up for nothing. Thank fuck for the small mercies." He clicked his tongue and, like that, he was back. He straightened his back and ran his fingers through his hair before letting his arm fall limply to his side. Similarities between their circumstances aside, Oscar found himself resonating with Jevi. It had been too long since he'd met someone who could keep up with his "wit." Another one of those small mercies. "I like to think of myself as more of a Scarface than Corleone, but it's hard to tell without the mountains of cocaine," Oscar quipped. "Or would it be Heisenberg since I cook and all? Speaking of." Oscar opened his menus and summoned up a pair of foil-wrapped cylinders. The scent of the sandwiches wafted through the air, creating an almost haze of onion and pepper-scented mist in their immediate vicinity. "I'll let you make the call about lunch. I've got two steak and cheese subs layered with about half a pound of meat, three different types of cheese and a veritable salad of onions and peppers - some mild, some hot - a piece. Do you really wanna make these puppies wait? I really don't think I've ever made a more unholy union of food in my entire time stuck here."

"Aite, let's go," Oscar said with finality. He took off into a sudden sprint, dashing into the ship with breakneck speed. He blitzed past NIGHT, obfuscated in shadow and ran straight up to the main deck. Tesseleth's Fury snapped into his hand as he rushed forward towards the absolute UNIT that was going through his game-scripted entry sequence. "WELCOME MO-" "SKIP!" Oscar exclaimed as he leapt from the deck and slammed his axe directly between Hrym's eyes. The Wrath of the Tyrant began to rumble, resonating through his axe. The power grew to a fever pitch, the weapon eventually unable to contain the raw fury of Tesseleth. A dark explosion ripped out from the point of impact, shaving a healthy chunk off of Hrym's health bar and blasting Oscar back towards the stairs that he'd just bounded up. He contorted himself in midair, trying to aim himself towards the opening like he was an Eight-Ball in the corner pocket. You've heard of Elf on the Shelf, but the world would soon know Oscar Soccer.

Oscar laughed and shook his head. "I'm not so humble that I'm gonna pretend it isn't a pain. But it's still my responsibility. Perhaps the only difference between here and the real life is that the Haves are willing to get back into the trenches and drag the Have-Nots out of it," he said. "Perhaps the secret to this whole ordeal is that we need to help each other. I don't see us getting out of this mess otherwise." He took another bite of his meal, still piping hot despite the tangent they embarked on. It was more out of a reflexive response to food being in front of him than any feelings of hunger. "I stopped being afraid of dying a long time ago. We all gotta go sometime. Best we can ever hope for is leaving something worthwhile behind. So if I die, I die. Least I can do it on my feet instead of being cowed into hiding in the Safe Zones until we get gout of here. I'm not saying you should 'get over it,' but accepting reality comes with its benefits."

A swing and a miss. Honestly, Oscar couldn't really say that his heart was really in the fight at this point. He'd expected some epic battle, but he'd brought a pool noodle with him to the fight. Bahr had done the same. At this juncture, the two of them were just two brick walls bitching at one another. There was nothing substantive about their words. Neither would cede the debate to the other. Both arguments had their merits, but neither side was willing to accept what the other was saying. So much the better. If he couldn't put Bahr in his place, he could - at the absolute minimum - redirect Tyson's aggro. No reason to go after Bahr if Oscar had killed their friendship. Though it dawned on him that he was approaching tinfoil hat territory, the idea that someone had been shadowing him through stealth wasn't outside of the realm of possibility. If nothing else, this would be a good show for them. "We just gonna keep hitting each other until this shit times out? Seems like the only way to decide this fight is with a Fallen activation and both of us left our good shit at home. My hate boner went flaccid about three rounds ago."

Oscar grunted in response. Bahr had felled the group that had just lightly toasted the duo, freeing Oscar up to take on another pair of drakes. Money Shot sang as it sliced through the air, a metallic hum ringing out. Their health bars plummeted and Oscar ceded the field to Bahr. "An extermination coupled with some nonsense item hunt? Seems like if the quest wants us to kill 50 of these things for full rewards, it would respect us enough to just say that," Oscar said. He hated, more than anything, fake goals. Quests that initially seem simple, but then you realize that it wants you to collect a drop that might take you dozens or hundreds of kills to obtain. The very first quest one undertook demonstrated this vexing paradigm. "I'm with you though. Something with some challenge to it would be a great palette cleanser after this bullshit."

Oscar chuckled. All this time he thought he'd kept her waiting and the rolls were reversed. Well, well, well. How the turntables... Being honest, her sudden entry presented something of an issue. Did he lead with a handshake or a hug? Was this a platonic or romantic date? Probably the former, he decided. There was only so much romance one could squeeze out of watching bloodsport and that amount was exceptionally low. But, not wanting to sully the vibe with an improper greeting, in lieu of extending his hand, Oscar gave her a slight nod and a smile. Best to keep the physical contact to a minimum considering the fact that they pair of them had only just met literal seconds ago. "There was a song that said 'I don't want my best-dressed day in the casket,'" Oscar replied. "I took it to heart. I'd hoped for the obvious hitman joke. Something like 'where's the garrote wire?' For shame, Jevi. Not off to great start," he added with a faux chiding tone. Oscar allowed his joke to linger just long enough to sink in before he continued. "All jokes aside, it's a pleasure. Truthfully, I wasn't certain what to expect when I signed up for this thing. I should count myself lucky that I'm not shanghaied into a moonlit gondola ride or some such nonsense." Saccharine and overdone dates stripped straight from a movie didn't make for an entertaining evening in Oscar's eyes. He let out a heavy sigh, more of relief than anything else. Jevi was perfectly lovely and Oscar was still a man. The idea of being accompanied anywhere by a pretty woman brought forth a primal sort of joy straight from the deepest recesses of his amygdala. Instinct clashed with emotion as he remembered, yet again, that he was a taken man. Or about as taken as a man whose girlfriend had gone absentee for months could have been. A pang of guilt clawed at his chest. It was, unfortunately, decision time. The choice was between remaining silent or being clear. It wasn't really a choice. Oscar had been accused of many thing in his life, but never infidelity. "I need to mention here that I'm in some weird relationship mess at the moment. I'd hoped for something not-romantic when I signed up. I don't want to do you or her the discourtesy of not being upfront about it. There's only so much bro talk a man can take before he wants to drive a stake into his ears. I don't mean to spring something heavy like this on you either," he said. Bad idea. They'd barely finished with the introductions and Oscar was screaming in her face that he had a girlfriend. He recoiled - slightly, but still visibly. "Ah, son of a bitch. Now who's off to the bad start?"

"I've found that comparatively few Players have actually elected to play the game," Oscar said. "The Frontlines only consist of a couple dozen Players. That's including the up-and-comers like myself. Barely a drop in the bucket compared to the thousands stuck here. So when I see or hear of a Player trying to make their way up the ladder, I usually drop everything to help them out. Even if it's for a quest I've already cleared." Oscar swiped open his menu and sent the gentleman a friend request. "That's why I would prefer that - in lieu of putting your neck on the line for something that might be out of your depth - you call me up. There's no shame in getting carried through a game that will literally kill you if your health bar reaches zero. It should go without saying that I'm down to help with whatever quest you need done."

"Well I'd imagine it would be a given, being as I'm one of this game's only Grandmaster Cooks," Oscar said. He was pleased to test his cuisine against someone with a refined palette. For Oscar's part, nothing got him through those cold Massachusetts winters on the farm better than some spicy chili. As he dug into the capsaicin-laced concoction, the heat reminded him of the home he longed to get back to. "You don't want straight heat in a spicy dish. You need some sweet or sour in there to give contrast. It's why I never understood why people bothered putting themselves through the spiciest snacks they could find. Burnt tongue isn't a taste, you know." Oscar took a long draff from his ale and placed the glass down with a click of his tongue. "I can't seem to nail beverages though. Maybe that's more of an alchemist thing? Still, not the worst beer I've ever had."

Following hot on Bahr's heels, Oscar tore through the Drakelings - catching another pair as they came in to reinforce their brethren. Unfortunately, he didn't manage to kill them all. And since one of Bahr's group was left alive, it spat white hot flame all over the pair as they came down off of their system-generated Art cooloffs. Following the lead of the first, the two from Oscar's group added their flames to the mix. Bahr fared better than Oscar had - a given since he was stocked with more Evasion. Though his health bar had taken a pummeling, Oscar was still ready to go. After all, Battle Healing would take care of all of the issues and soothe his ouchies. "Yeah," Oscar began, not even the slightest bit perturbed over the sear he'd just received. "I'd rather be as high of a level as possible before he get into all of that. Might as well burn some of these maps I have."