Elora

"Not dust bunnies -- I think it might be a demon.", she stated matter-of-factly as teetering footsteps carried her around the protective symbol's perimeter, "Or some sort of fae-folk, I'm not sure yet. Probably best not to call each other by our names, just in case --" We'll have to come up with codes names! Unless...do 'Freyd' and 'Elora already count...? A clumsy procession nearly capsized the poor girl as she fumbled forward and into their kitchen island. With a final heave of effort, she forcefully lugged the basket smushed between her up and over the counter's ledge. " I -- ",

"Oh yeah!", Elora exclaimed as if suddenly remembering, "I wanted to have something ready for when you got back -- I completely forgot --!" A derailed sense of urgency towed them both toward the entrance of her greenhouse as she confidently assured, "I should only need to get a few things..." Stepping in to the enclosed garden immediately wafted them with warm air and the comforting aroma of freshly-watered soil. Drawing in a deep breath, Elora basked in the fleeting afterglow of babbling brooks and rolling green pastures. For all those she'd encountered in Aincrad, none had remedied her sense

Taken aback by Freyd's sudden shift from downtrodden despair to uplifted exaltation, Elora cocked her head to the side and stammered, "Just -- what...?" "How is it that we always see only the best in each other, but never ourselves?", he seemed to ask, almost wistfully. The final traces of tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared at him confusedly. With a hand lifted to cusp around her own, he stepped closer still. Ensuing admissions did little to dispel an intensifying suspicion that she was somehow misreading the situation. After all, that was hardly a rarity for her. An uncert

♫ The Hand of Fate ♫ A trembling hand raised to cover Elora's mouth as she stared crestfallen at the haunting claw marks. Scars carved so broadly across his body she could hardly imagine its remains. Anything indicative of Freyd would have been lost to a corpse maimed beyond recognition. Shrill whimpers mourned the scene of his demise, her pain scarcely disguised beneath the veil of a palm. A sharp drawing in of her breath could not recall the tears that were pouring from her face. Grief beckoned her to tear her sights away from him, to deny confrontation with a reality too gruesom

Truthfully, she was on her way home from seeing Mina, not on her way out to meet her. However, Kyoto didn't know that, and she'd make no effort to correct him. "Hmmm...", she hummed as if pretending to consider, her weight shifting from one side to the other, "Not sure, what would we need to do?" Reaping rewards or helping other's for virtue's sake was beyond her interest. Instead, passing time with good company, becoming lost in the motions of a fun activity, seemed far more appealing. Though, she was inclined to assume this case would be much closer to the later than the former. Hopping

Elora squirmed her way out of Freyd's dreamy embrace as avoidant stoicism began to falter. For as much as she wished to savor the sweetness of their reunion, she understood what a moment like this demanded of her. No -- not what it demanded of her, but what she would demand of herself. In countless interactions past, Freyd had lent her an ear to listen, extended a hand to hold, given her a shoulder to cry on. How long had he meant to go on, carrying the burdens of others to the complete and utter detriment of himself? How long would he continue still...cherishing that servitude, honoring

She bit her lip as affirmations fell shy of escape. Replacing their agreement with a nod of understanding would have to suffice. Sweating palms rubbed deeply into her knees as Elora began to mull over her early life in Aincrad and how it contrasted with the person she was today. In a lot of ways, she felt just like that scared, defeated young girl. Days continued to feel overwhelming, too great a challenge for her capacities. At least, that's how it seemed. Leveling up and obtaining gear fell short of fulfillment in so many aspects. If everything around her kept becoming more powerful, every o

"I know...", she softly assured as a curious hand traced the edges of his jaw, her thumb pressing back hairs to glimpse the corners of a frail smile. Reaching back further, she pushed past the folds of his cowl to offer a congratulatory pat to... Oh, Persi's not here., thought Elora, She must be off exploring someplace...? Sights lifted to interlock with Freyd's as his features slowly sunk into a somber disposition. Behind the fading mirth of those pale blue orbs, she swore she could watch the spirit of something...breaking within him. Unburdened from all of his armor, yet carrying the we

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ For days, the constant pings of pointless notifications had eaten away at her. The longer she'd waited to hear from Freyd, the more restless she had become. Every obsessive visit to her menu, every hopeful glance at the sender's username, had paired with another shattered expectation. That was, until... Elora was out of her seat in a matter of seconds. Finally --, she breathed a sigh of relief as lingering nervous energy swelled within her, He's alive -- "They did it!", she found herself rejoicing to no one in particular, her hands balling up into fists of victory. Bor

"Two things can be true at once.", she called down playfully, "And you did put on a rather good performance." The flirtation of her tone was palpable, mirrored in the sensuality of her posture as she stood and leaned to the side with a smug disposition. Eyes narrowed as she searched his expression, a hand draped proudly over one hip. "How do you suppose I should get down from up here?", the genuine question came slathered with a layer of sarcasm. The earliest hints of morning light began to seep into the atmosphere, submerging its deep blue clouds in a halo of cerulean. As songbirds began

After a series of sharp gasps, Elora finally managed to regain her composure. She couldn't remember the last time she had fallen that far or hard. Actually, she could recall one such instance. Peeling herself up from the bark, she rolled over to check on how that case was fairing. Standing amongst a creaking heap of splintered branches and shedding needles, Elora began to wonder if Freyd would be just as talented at setting up a Christmas trees as he had been taking one down. Speculation aside, she needed to find her own way down to him. Not because she thought he couldn't handle the figh

Did he just --? Well that's one way to do it --, Elora gawked in dumfounded admiration as she felt the gargantuan tree begin to drift diagonally. An awestruck stare retraced Freyd's path of deliberate destruction, her heart swelling with pride and wonderment at what he was capable of. Or really, just him, actually. I can't believe he's really mine., she swooned over the thought. A long, pitiful roar erupted from somewhere up above, shaking her mind free from its excessive ogling. Right., she blinked. There was an enemy to kill. "I don't know -- but Im about to beat him out of this tree li

"You're not getting off that easy!", Elora heard him yell from a distance. "Sounds like something a sloke-poke would say!", she called back from over her shoulder. Running like this, with the vigor of an olympic athlete or even the adrenaline of a frantic crackhead evading authority -- it made her feel invincible. Legs carried her faster than her mind could dream to keep up with, her feet leaping across the harmless chasm of a babbling brook. The further they strayed from the Elven settlement, the more difficult it became to navigate in the dark. Perhaps navigate wasn't the right wor

Jittering fingers, nervous at first, draped calmly to cradle inside of Freyd's hands. A stifled breath held in surprise escaped from her lips as tension swiftly bled from her muscles. Drawn into his embrace, she suddenly felt so tired. Simultaneously alive and exhausted, Róisín wondered how many more battles they would be able to fight for themselves, and for each other. Honestly, she couldn't care any less. Raising a hand to comb through Freyd's hair, she placed a gentle hand beside his head. The hardships of her life, of being trapped in this stupid game fizzled away like the apparitions of

Ragged, guttural screams escaped from Elora's lungs as futile attacks failed to unmake the thing before her. A creature so repugnant, so vitriolic, it deserved no mercy, no right to exist. Nothing about her was right. How many times had she undertaken this very form? How many times had she broken another person just to feel better about herself? Her life was an endless cycle of being hurt, inflicting pain, justifying her actions. She had never been to blame, she could never have been at fault. A monster., echoed her mind's accusation, "You have never cared. You stupid, selfish cunt."

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ Sharp, distorted pulses of light coursed through her in harmony with a faltering heartbeat. Exhausted in her endless attempt to escape from the past, she had finally been outpaced. Frozen in the wake of impending judgement, she felt afraid, ashamed, furious, despondent -- the monstrous result of a thousand feelings too overwhelming to handle. Apathy seemed a welcome grace, another means to barter for additional time. But Elora understood that was no longer an option. She had given up on its numbing severance many lives ago. So many precious relationships. A thousand sm

♫ A Ballad Between Light and Darkness ♫ Faintly silhouetted by glows from behind, Freyd would be able to see Elora's ears draw downwards at the revelation. Her eyes, now softly illuminated from her own trembling flame, held deep, reverential sadness. A small part of her was surprised by the gravity of this moment. She'd searched for years...only to arrive at an answer understood from the very beginning. Standing before her now, Freyd seemed...so human to her. He was a kaleidoscope of fractured pieces, the most complete person she'd ever met. His heart remained hardened, camouflaged

Eyes widened as Elora's head cocked sideways to follow the materialization of his ears. What a bizarre world they lived in that such a thing could even be considered. Freyd's calculating mind felt a similar enigma, though one she found amusement in spectating. In a way, it was like watching the gears of a machine turn in -- No, realized Elora, Like an overly-engineered sequence of events. A doting smile drew to her lips as she imagined gerry-rigged levers and pulleys setting off miscellaneous contraptions, their tedious systems tripping in service of an underwhelming result. Brewing a cup of

"Yeah, all good.", came a frazzled but light-hearted response. A nearby sign post intercepted Elora's fall, steadying her from fated matrimony with the cobblestones below. She spared only a moment to reorient herself before turning to apologize to the unseen pedestrian. "Sorry --", Elora stammered as her sights settled on a notable feature. From beneath dark, tightly coiled locks protruded a set of pointed ears. The player standing before them calmly rubbed the soreness from her ebony shoulder as Elora began to gawk in surprise. Wearing deep blue armor with golden ornamentation, she appea

placeholder *** Elora | HP: 760/760 | EN: 110/110 | DMG: 21 | MIT:78 | ACC:5 | AA | EVA:1 | BH:38 | REC: 4 | FLN: 8 | BLI: 32/-20 | STC: 40 | LD:2

In direct continuation of Scents of the Wild: Part I... Scents of the Wild: Part II Stammering seemed the only recourse for such an accusation, no, a revelation. Perhaps she wasn't ready for it, wasn't prepared to confront everything that it carried. Muscles ran their course, contracting and shying away from the uncomfortable truth. Her eyes had already begun their search for safe haven. Before she could retreat, Freyd had closed the distance between them. A careful hand lifted to cradle her chin. She cursed at his bravery. Sweeping away whips of hair, he beckoned her eyes t

Elora seemed to give pause in their search as intrigue coaxed her to consider Freyd's response. Initially, she was confused by his concern for harming her. An armored fist and a pointy stick assured that a lovers' spat, no matter how impassioned, would find his feet swept out from beneath him, his ass planted squarely on the ground. Somehow, she doubted that was his actual concern. "I...", she began, still piecing together her thoughts, "Think that's part of it, yes..." Fingers thrummed across hands withdrawn as each prodded and intertwined with one another in a flurry of nervous configu

She found herself leaning down, drawn in to inspect the drawing more closely. Kingsley wasn't exactly short, moreso hunched, in that old and dilapidated-but-also-kind-of-endearing sort of way. Special care was paid to avoid harpooning the old man's eyes with her one of her cosmetically-elongated ears. The endeavor proved more difficult than she'd anticipated, what with the carriage bouncing and swaying from each gentle embrace with a pothole below. As her vision came to focus, she was able to distinguish the delicate pen strokes that created the flower. "It's pretty", she noted with a fai

"Nope -- just visiting a friend", she responded with a vague gesture to some smokestack in the distance. "My name is Kyoto, what's your?" "Elora", she stated succinctly. Unsure of whether or not to shake hands like two blokes meeting at the pub, she offered a curt a nod instead. A brief inspection of his appearance reminded her of Kiluia. Though, Kyoto seemed to have a smaller frame, perhaps younger in age? "Boy you're looking pretty smoking and that isn't because we're in a literally fire death pit.", he mentioned. "What --?", came a flat reply. Her expression indicated th

A raspy sigh escaped from her lips as relief bled across her features. Like a flame ignited from flint and steel, Elora's eyes appeared to rekindle some of their familiar brightness. The invitation to start anew felt cleansing, rejuvenating in the wake of whatever shadows had suddenly breeched her surface. She stepped back from him and considered darting to their next prospective destination. Muscles seemed to flinch momentarily as Elora abandoned the inclination, her head shaking instead. "I know you'd never mean to hurt me...", she said as a hand lowered to cusp around his, "It isn't yo