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[F1-OP] A Break in the Clouds


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Vadeon took in a deep breath. He held it there for a moment, and then let it go. His pulse hammered in his ears as he walked. This was not going to be easy, but he needed somebody to call on in case of emergency. It wasn't smart to go into things alone. He knew that.

That didn't make it any easier to walk into the tavern door.

This game was already putting enough stress onto his head while he was alone, he didn't want to imagine the amount of stress it would add having somebody else with him. "I'd almost RATHER die at that point." He frowned, sighing again. "I shouldn't be thinking like that. It isn't the end of the world just to talk to someone."

Vadeon took in another breath, and did his best to raise his chin and meet the gaze of passersby. This game put stress on him already. How much worse could it get? He kept reminding himself why he was doing this as he found himself at the tavern door. He took in another breath, staring for a moment at the boldly lettered sign, put on his best smile and pushed his way through the door.

The room was tight, and as he looked at all of the faces surrounding him, he felt as though the roof would collapse on him. "Maybe it is the end of the world," he reflected, feeling his face shift into a smaller, more nervous grin as his eyes dropped to his feet. He heard the door shut, seeming obnoxiously loud compared to the quiet room he seemed to have walked into. He heard every footstep he took, every beat of his heart, and felt that everyone else could hear it too. He almost felt inclined to murmur a billion apologies, "S-sorry to disturb you!" and sprint back through the door and make it to some far off street corner where nobody could find him. But he had come this far, what was the use in giving up?

He sat in one of the stools at the bar, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat and mutter a greeting to the players around him, finally managing to get out a quiet "Hello..." from his lips, fiddling with his fingers.

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Shepard had been coming to this tavern for a couple months now mostly for food and board. It had been a while since he had seen his friend spidey the last time he saw him was back at the beginners quest, but ever since his adventure with Spidey Shepard seemed less troubled than he used to be. It was really thanks to Spidey that he was still alive if he hadn't talked some sense into him that day in the feild he would probably still be feeling nothing but guilt about Juni but now he was different he had hope that he would find her and beat this game by her side. Interrupting his train of thought was the sound of the front door to the tavern opening, and a player entering with the door slamming shut behind him. Not many people took notice of the kid but the ones that did didn't seem to interested in him turning there attention back to there food. Shepard didn't even bother turning around he knew people fancied this spot for it's convenience and most where already in groups together. The waitress brought his food to him from the kitchen "here you go one order of vegetable soup and a mug of cheap ale enjoy" with that she returned to taking orders from the other patrons at the bar. As he was about to eat a spoonful of his soup someone sat down next him and greeted him with a forced hello. Putting his spoon down Shepard turned his attention to the the person greeting him "good afternoon" picking up his spoon once more Shepard resumed eating his lunch.

Edited by Lawrence
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Lessa’s trips to the first floor were few and far between these days. There had been a time where she had tried to avoid it, haunted by the memories of her first days, and the friends who were only ghosts now. Then, she had spent a few months trolling it for players to help, dedicating all of her time and energy to aiding newcomers. But now, she fell somewhere in the middle. She rarely ventured to this place of beginnings, but when she did, it did not evoke the same emotions as it once did.

Or, not so much as it used to.

She had spent the morning hopping between various bookstores, trying to track down material for her teaching sessions. Textbooks were a rare thing here, as it appeared education was not a top priority in a video game. Yet after years of being trapped in the floating castle, the youngest players had sought some return to normalcy. Going to school, it seemed, was as close as they could get to routine. Lessa, who had completed her teaching degree, was more than happy to oblige.

Now, the woman sat perched atop a bar stool, nursing a cold pop from a tall, frosted glass. She also sipped at a steaming bowl of soup, the color of the broth not unlike her long mane of blonde hair. It fell loose to her lower back, pulled up only when she was in combat, and that had been nearly a year now. She much preferred the comfort of loose hair and baggy, flowing clothes.

The small, strained greeting from the stool beside her drew Lessa’s attention. She could sense his discomfort, and so her smile was soft. “Hello there.”

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Vadeon felt slightly calmer now that he was sitting, but sitting down also took a critical element from him: motion. Now that he was sitting, he was more constrained, and it made his nerves all the more apparent. Every movement he took was shaky, despite his obvious attempts to reel himself in. 

He heard the kind greetings from either side of him and felt slightly more at ease, and then remembered he had to come up with a response. "H-hi, I-I'm..." He groaned internally. "This is pitiful." He closed his eyes, once again took a deep breath in, and sighed, collecting himself. "Hi, I'm...Vadeon. Nice to meet you." He felt an unexpected rush of pride and cringed at himself once again. "That was nothing. Why should I feel proud of that?" He felt his pulse again. As he spoke, he moved his arms, fiddling with his hands or gesticulating, though it was obvious he was making his best attempt to hide his arms under the flowing black cloak which was tied at his neck. Still, despite his best efforts, the scarred skin there came out every now and then. 

"I don't, uh...come here often, if that much wasn't already obvious, heheh..." He clasped his hands together, doing his best to appear confident.

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Busy taverns, busy inns, they both had something in common: an active, loud first story. Dazia hadn't been feeling too social at the moment, so she had the hood of her light armor, Shadow's Embrace, over her head. She was sitting at a table close to the bar, finishing up her soup, while her energetic, youthful friend Yinangi was fiddling with a knife because she was bored again. Dazia dared not speak about blunting it, lest she cause Yinangi to burst out in song to make a reference pun out of it. Yinangi's eyes were looking all over, in hopes of finding something to relieve her of boredom. She spotted someone clasping his hands together, as well as the two speaking to him. "He looks like he could use more company..." Dazia heard what Yinangi had said. Why did she have this twelve year old as a friend again? This question always came to her, whether she appreciated this friendship or not. "Yinangi, in a place like this, it's not always the smartest thing to- ...and she's walking over..." Dazia followed Yinangi over to the player. Yinangi was still fiddling with the knife, and Dazia still had her hood over her head. Surely they had at least a minor chance of looking shady. Hopefully their appearance wouldn't come across the wrong way and arouse any suspicion. Yinangi tugged on the player's cloak, so that she could at least say hello. "Hiya, you look like you could use some more company." Conversation like this wasn't what Dazia originally had in mind, but if it meant making some allies and/or friends, it would be worth it. She removed the hood. "I do hope we're not interrupting anything important..."

@Vadeon @Lawrence @Lessa

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Lessa knew this behavior, had seen it exhibited dozens of times. Nerves, discomfort, unease, all mixed together in a bitter cocktail. Just splash it over ice, add a hot pink umbrella, and you have a drink called "time to get out of here." Not that she would let that happen, if she was able. Helping to calm those who needed calming was a large part of her job as a teacher, and she had been educated on some of the best methods for doing so. Of course, she had not made it to the "having her own classroom" stage of life, given Aincrad had sucked her in first, but she still remembered some of the main points.

"Great to meet you, Vadeon." Using a person's name can help ground them. "My name is Lessa." As can using your own. "Don't worry about it - this is actually my first time in this particular place, too!" Reassurance, and drawing a connection. "But most of these little hole-in-the-wall places are the same, so if you've seen one, you've seen them all. And they're all pretty harmless." Her blue eyes paused to give him a quick once-over, and in doing so, she noticed a bit of scarred skin. The warm smile never left her tanned face, but her mind whirred with the significance of it. Some sort of physical abnormality would do a lot to explain why he's so skittish. 

She was yanked back from her musings by the arrival of two other players. Popular spot, she thought to herself, before turning her smile on the newcomers. "Nope," she assured them. "Nothing too important. If you need my barstool, I won't be long."

@Vadeon @Dazia

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Vadeon swallowed once and sighed again, finally settling himself slightly in his seat. Tension was still obvious in his posture, but now that he'd been sitting for a moment, he felt his heart calm down a little bit. Giving Lessa a quick once-over, seeing her bright, smiling eyes, he finally managed to get it into his head that he hadn't screwed up. "Yet." The thought nagged at him.

His smile grew a little more, a little more color appeared in his features, and his movements were a little less stiff. He leaned one hand onto the table as she spoke, seeming to almost forget about it a second, then immediately drew it back in when he noticed her glance at the flesh there. "She seems like she's got some experience. Maybe I should ask to party with her..." As he lost himself in thought, he felt someone tug on his cloak.

He gave a small jump, but praying nobody noticed turned himself around slightly more. He took in the two standing there with mild interest, before remembering he was also an active member of this conversation. "O-oh, hi." Hearing the taller of the two's statement left Vadeon a little conflicted. It was an easy out to say "Oh, no, you aren't interrupting anything important at all. In fact, I need to go finish a quest on the next floor," or something like that, but he stopped himself.

He was already this far. He doubted he could convince himself to do it again. 

"Nothing that important really. Just some...friendly conversation." He brushed his hair back without thinking, showing a full hand.

@Lessa @Dazia

 

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Have you ever had that moment where your being forced to do something your really didn’t want to do by one of your best friends? Well. That's why I’m here. For someone so quiet and slender, he had an impressive grip, specifically on my right arm. “Athel. Why.” I said in an blunt and  annoyed manner.  Athel essentially dragged me through the tavern’s door, why he wanted me to go to a tavern, I had no idea. The second I was hauled through the door the smell of yeast from alcoholic beverages filled the air. The room itself looked surprisingly tacky. I was expecting a western eighteen-fifties saloon, complete with bar fights, piano music, and angry looking cowboys. Unfortunately for me, I was wrong, the room actually looked quite depressing. The building’s clay walls were broken in a few places, revealing wooden beams and struts. The tan wooden floorboards were warped and looked like it would give way to whatever room was beneath it. The tables and chairs looked cheap and incomplete. The bar counter looked stained with several drinks and beverages, some of it even looked like blood, which as you can imagine, didn’t help me like it any further. The only thing in the room I expected was the stereotypical bartender, he was an NPC who wore a white button up shirt with a black vest over it, he was currently washing out a mug with a rag. After getting dragged across the room (and having tip of my pant leg snagged by one of the loose boards, which, as you can imagine was pretty embarrassing.) I sat down in a stool. “Really? Why are we here?” I said, getting more agitated the longer I remained answerless. He looked over at me and pointed to his mouth, then moved his hand down to his chest, the sign language equivalent for: “Thirsty.” Then he made a series of hand gestures that can be narrowed down to: “N-P-C doesn’t sign, can’t order.” I felt bad about this. “So, you want me do order for you?” He nodded in response. “Alright.” I said, turning my head towards the bartender. “Do you have any wines?” The bartender nodded in response and began to complete this order. Athel nodded with approval. I didn’t think they would serve wine here. I looked at towards players along the bar, they all looked calm and collected, some more than others, one guy in specific looked nervous. “What do you think they are talking about?” I asked Athel, who shrugged in response, I decided to continue listening. Hopefully, no one would notice. All the characters looked like they didn't know each other, like they were completely unrelated, so why were they even here?

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  • 3 weeks later...

Vadeon's smile wasn't entirely false, but it wasn't entirely cheerful, either. It resulted from nerves more than anything, and the longer he kept it up the longer his muscles stiffened there. He felt a slight soreness creeping up around his cheeks, but he ignored it and continued nonetheless.

He fiddled with his fingers under his cloak, clasping and unclasping a decorative pocket inside. It didn't increase his inventory space or do anything else to his stats, but it was large enough to store a HP potion if he so chose. He felt almost cornered at the bar, one side with one player, one with another, and the other two just behind him. Despite the actual height difference being in his favor, he felt small in comparison. He steadied his breathing again, still feeling his pulse ebbing at his ears.

As he sat there, he could almost feel the eyes of the tavern boring into him. He knew that quite a few of those who were looking at him were NPCs, but as he took note of all the players who weren't, he noticed one player who was gesticulating in an odd pattern to another of the players there. To his surprise, he recognized certain pieces of the gestures. Vadeon hadn't taken sign language himself, but he knew people who had. He didn't actually know any words, but knew enough to recognize that it was sign language. As he watched the NPC walk away, he made eye contact with the player across from the signer, and immediately turned back to the group before him. It was a rather sudden jerk, but it wasn't enough to catch the attention of anyone in the group. He silently prayed that the player hadn't noticed him. 

Finally, he cleared his throat, almost unintentionally causing a break in the conversation, but he already made an opening; he would commit to it. "I was actually thinking of going out somewhere to do some grinding. O-obviously it's a little below your level, but I was hoping I could get some help to pick up any slack, just in case?" He added a nervous laugh to the end, unable to contain his fluttering heart for another second. His smile had a certain warmth to it, despite the tension exuded from his entire body. He pulled his scarf more onto his chin, a nearly invisible gesture of his wish to hide away somewhere. He was careful to keep his arm hidden as he did so, aiding in making the movement as low-profile as possible. 

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