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Setsuna

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About Setsuna

  • Title
    Creature of the Mist

Guild Information

  • Guild Name
    Firm Anima

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Female
  • Location
    Starting City

Profile Fields

  • Skill Points
    21

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  1. This 12/5/23 Item Fusion (Freyd) Item Evaluation (Oscar): 206365, T4/Perfect/Handwraps (Materials Sent 3/17/22)
  2. PLOT 12/5/23 Item Fusion (Freyd) Item Evaluation (Oscar): 206365, T4/Perfect/Handwraps (Materials Sent 3/17/22)
  3. Another spoonful of jasmine rice stuck in a clump on the edge of a pair of chopsticks. "Perhaps your right, Therein lies the difficulty with being blind. You lack the ability to see the world for what it truly is." The epiphany was nearly lost on her, spoken as an insightful turn of phrase. "But consider me a cynic. I doubt that anything can be so honest and true, life is never easy nor difficult. It is no different then hunting a target. There will be moments of surprise, moments where everything moves according to a plan. Its adapting that is common place, I imagine that this is no different
  4. A cold and unwavered intensity even still, questioning the foundation of her beliefs. Perhaps it wasn't the method but the motive. There had been a few as of late that despite a marker, were spared. On the contrary, there were a select few that she felt inclined to end despite owning the ticker that they'd done no wrong. "The truth is a hard pill to swallow, but pretending or avoiding it succeeds nothing." she spoke to the sentiment and to this very discussion. Setsuna was always of the mind to consider and weigh her options, think impartially about information. There was no emotion in it, sav
  5. Weighing carefully the lesson that the swordsman had wished to teach. That cold and calculating gaze, almost keeping with it a sense of naivety. "No further has a fact been spoken. A blade is an extension of the self, an assertion of will and drawing it requires an adhere to a code. Mine, answers a cry of violence each time its drawn." Looking to the hungering blade in the dust, finding itself its own oozing mist. Having slipped so gently out of its saya, the embrace of Snowfrost still bleeding from it. "Setsunin~to." Setsuna remarks bluntly. "Is counter to your beliefs. It is called the
  6. It would appear that the girl was staring at the horizon as if searching for something. Setsuna was trying to see his perspective, in the most literal sense. Some had considered her a creature of the cardinal, a manifested weapon and punishment akin to that of redemption. Or a response for the lack of an attempt at the quest. To others a story, a big fish story that had no truth. To the ones that knew the truth, they never lived to tell it. She was the boogy man, one that existed but didn't. No truer a statement then how she felt. "They were, once." A simple response as her silver-blue ha
  7. Placing the pipe gingerly into the phoenix's clutches, staring out into the horizon that had since twisted to twilight. The orange being replaced with the cool blue, night had fallen. "I'm afraid, what happens when I do?" Setsuna admitted her only fear. "I agree." Kneeling low and using her left hand to push her skirt beneath her butt. Modest even still, Alkor would get the taste of the chilled weather of Snowfrost. It held to her no matter where she went, although the heat on floor 9 threatened it. "People can't stomach the thought of murder. I've dealt with the hesitation and with the desire
  8. That thickened ball of flame began to linger just above the glowing sea of dust, about to find itself submerged in its expanse. Eyes lock to Alkor watching wistfully as he spins a pipe in his clutches, clearly taking in his words. It was rather strange how the two had so obvious a difference in opinion and yet both found the ground to discuss. "There isn't a good answer." the girl remarked in a low monotone, that fell from her lips like an afterthought. "I know that I am broken. I cannot picture myself outside of this." Admitting it more to herself then for Alkor's benefit. "For year
  9. As her attentions lingered on the sun, basked in that burning glow in silence. Allowing Alkor the ground to speak. After all she was fair. Wisps of smoke emanating from the phoenix's pipe listing limply through the air around them both, being carried by the odd wind as it would pass by. "Your absolutely right. For all but one thing." Words hang limply off her lips as they played out, weak and quiet in their delivery. Spoken as if to not disturb some lingering thing that lay out in this wasteland, or perhaps as she did not feel the need to speak loudly. "There is only life and death. I am decid
  10. A sharpness to her tone, as she slinked into herself. "Everything I had, everything I knew." The faintest pain on her tone, as if her heart was bleeding. "You know how hard it is to rebuild from nothing, in a world you know nothing about. Its overwhelming, consuming. It's easy to say, that I can just start over and forget. But it haunts me, I cannot sleep, I cannot eat. And this game wont even let me die." Embracing her arms, feeling warmth that burned and ached. As it would turn out, emotional scars could be much deeper then any physical one. Turning to Alkor with a glare, clenching her
  11. Finding some comfort in a hand placed upon her head, although it was nearly scalding. Survival had done her wonders as to wielding skadi, but it had also robbed her of all heat and cast her pale white. "I was late the only time it mattered. I was naive, hopeful. Before Aincrad I was blind." The retelling stung hotter then any knife or blade, like a razor across her throat. A knot the size of an apple. A story not spoken but lived, where few knew it. "The three charged with introducing me to this game, as a way for me to experience what it is like to see. They were brutally murdered outside of
  12. Dragging the small oiled bit of cotton down the length of the blade, as it threatened to freeze but couldn't. A permafrost film following it instead, giving the metal a look like breath on a window. The girl glanced over, a pair of striking cyan blue eyes that were in direct contrast to the orange hued backdrop. "Such a curious place for laughter, and yet it suits you." Setsuna remarked with that same signature tone, chilled and aloof. "It is quite the jail cell, and some would be lead to believe it paradise. So foolish and frivolous, the small birds in cages that try to tap and cope with thei
  13. Taking her place on a bit of what was once a ceiling, now nothing more then a crumbled slab of stone. Using her hand to press a skirt like slant flat as she folds her legs and offers a blade to her lap. Sliding it from its sheathe and revealing a parade of white mist like dry ice that collects beneath her. The girl removes a small box, long and thin and lifts the lid. Inside a bottle of oil, a few rags of different textures and a slab of stone affixed to a block. A metallic click as she twists the handle, one eye shut as she scans the katana's edge. "Normal people don't belong here. This
  14. Through an amber orange glow of setting sun, past crystalline fixtures that once drew life. The soft patter of tabi on a layer of dust that threatened to consume everything. Each step leaving a small groove, a remnant that would be erased by the next passing wind. A frozen heart one that matched avalanche, filled to the brim with sorrow. More of the shambling dead rushed haphazardly into the storm and found themselves trapped in its wake. Like lemmings off a cliff, their tendons seize and refuse as the temperature dropped. There was an elegant beauty to this exile, where most would fear to tre
  15. A decrepit city of stone and soil, where moss clung to every surface. Shambling dead move to and throw through every nook and cranny. Each passing moment sees another small fraction of rubble fall from nearby decayed building, making a sharp clack that causes the horrors of the floor rushing to it. Ravenous like wolves, they clamber to the sound as if it was bell to the next meal. A soft exhale from the girl sees the bitter frost sheering cold turn them to nothing more then frigid statues. Beyond that which most could challenge, and with it a sense of stagnancy and a lack of purpose. Late
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