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“Don’t thank me,” Oscar said. The moment she settled into her chair, Oscar had a plate of stew. It smelled dangerous, laden with spices and thick with capsaicin. Nothing better for warming the body after a long nap in the rain than a big bowl of spicy stew. And, of course, Oscar had no chill when it came to such things, so the Scoville scale was more than likely blown out. He slid a glass of sweet wine and a small plate of bread in her direction. “I insist.” Oscar had a deep and profound love for all of his friends. He struggled to articulate, so he hoped that his actions would bridge tha

Oscar nodded along as Jomei admitted his desire to retire. It was understandable. Being on the Frontlines wore on you after a while. Once the fatigue set in, you were playing a dangerous game. You weren’t at your best. It simply couldn’t be helped, throwing yourself at horror after horror and putting your life on the line every time besides. Oscar wouldn’t say this - avoiding rubbing salt in the wound and all of that - but he’d not quite hit that brick wall of fatigue just yet. He’d simply switched his focus. Even so, there was nothing wrong with what Jomei felt. If only they had the numbers t

“and this is what you do for fun on your off time?” Oscar gave the NPC - Day - a warm smile. As he would for anyone else. The situation demanded it. His kinship with NIGHT did also. It was a bit of a struggle, if he was being honest. He never really engaged with NPCs in such a way. But he would endeavor to give it his best shot, for both of their sakes. “I like my fun to be infectious, Day. Nothing is sadder than enjoying the moment by oneself.” It was uncanny, the way DAY spoke. She very clearly didn’t have a script. Instead acting and reacting to incoming stimuli. If Oscar did

DATE: [8/21/25] RANK 9 BLACKSMITH | [EXP: 3870/5119] | Daily Crafting Attempts: 10+4=14*2=28 RANK 1 TAILOR | [EXP: 0/19] RANK 1 ARTISAN | [EXP: 0/19] RANK 7 ALCHEMIST | [EXP: 1541/1279] RANK 1 COOK | [EXP: 0/19] RANK 1 PERFORMER | [EXP: 0/39] RANK 1 APPRAISER | [EXP: 0/100] CRAFTING BUFFS: All Profession Ambition Tools +1 EXP per craft Extended Workshop (Artisan, Blacksmith, Alchemist, Performer, Cook, Appraiser) +2 EXP per craft with those professions Trading Hall 3 +2 EXP per craft | Salvage on LD 4 | +4 crafting attempts Using Workaholic's Draft | Crafter's

@Edict “Please sit! I came here to feel a little less lonely, but it turns out the masks are having the opposite effect.” "strange," demian replied, as he fiddled with his mask carelessly. "to me, it feels like a piece of armor, even having driven a curated persona on the daily." he leaned in, gesturing for a handshake towards the other. "i'm maxwell. it's a pleasure to meet you." he poured over his memories for anything regarding the dye quest on the twenty-first, but came up with nothing, even by his eclectic memory. "so it is," he presumed, lending the other the benefit of t

BISTRO | Lv. 13 | DMG: 16 | HP: 260/260 | EN: 44/44 it was here, in walking straight into the cemetery, that bistro realized she had forgotten a lamp back in her workshop. that was simply par for the course as far as ambience went, however. midnight, visiting the heart of a cemetery — surely there was no other way it could get even more frightening than this. but bistro had seen of dragons: an unreality made real that she should’ve been afraid of, which she realized quick that she wasn’t. her visit here… well, if ghosts existed, perhaps she’d learn courage from them as well

"You'll make it up to me later, no doubt." Plum's laughter was soft, but genuine, carried on the music like a ripple of light through blackened waters. Her companion was quite charismatic, and as out of practice as she was to be in the spotlight of someone's attention, she found herself shamelessly reveling in its warmth. Perhaps that betrayed how little time she spent in the playful presence of friends - so long she had spent locked away in the safety of this first floor, or hidden in the shadows behind hired help. Had she focused so solely on seeking out rare treasures, that she'd forgo

@Sinnamon iris had been scanning the room, absentminded. with the mix of bodies from the many, beyond the few she could easily identify, the passage of players was like background noise in staccato. with each blink, each sip of her drink, the floor plan would change, and she’d be trying to anchor her vision down to a set of new faces once again. hence, she did not see someone approaching her — even if she did, she chalked it up to the bar, rather than her direct position instead. “Your date stand you up?” her gaze, languid, fell on a figure tall. all she registered at first

"Who's to say I wasn't holding the space for you?" “Then I am so very sorry for keeping you waiting.” A smile tugged at his lips as she slipped her hand into his. His fingers coiled gently around her own - engulfing the extremity as pulled her into his orbit. It was amusing to think that, around this time under ordinary circumstances, he would lean full-tilt into flirtations as debauched as he thought he could get away with. And perhaps it was her - the elegant evening dress and that adorable glimmer of curiosity in her eyes - that held him back. Or perhaps it was the setting. O

“I don’t think the dancing has started quite yet. I was hoping to chat a little while longer.” A hot pang of realization hit the back of her skull; I’m not her right now. Mari’s talking to a total stranger: just another guy in a bar. “I’m not trying to… I apologize if I sound persistent. Tell me bluntly to leave you alone, and I won’t bother you again.” It turned out that some things—particularly social cues—could not be solved with a mask and a sense of unearned confidence. Orpheus leaned away, giving Mari space while making it clear he was still interested in conversation. Absent an imm

Edict glanced up. In the dimness of the Blackroom, a young man stood over him, dressed as Edict’s opposite; a black overcoat with silver and amethyst jewelry. His carefully(?) ungroomed hair made Edict wonder if he cared about appearances, or cared that other people thought he didn’t. Edict motioned to the chair next to him. “Please sit! I came here to feel a little less lonely, but it turns out the masks are having the opposite effect.” Edict was nor prepared to ask why he’d chosen to wear one. “It’s from a vendor on floor 21. The catch is she unlocks after some easy-to-miss ques

PH * * * Recovery? Not Needed Wulfrin is at full HP and EN Cooldowns: Parry 2/3 Post Action: [x16] Tech-D (15 EN) -2 Stamina -1 Well Rested (1/3) = 12 EN Free Action: ID 254162 | BD 2+7-2=7 hit | CD 9 | 17 * 16 = 272 - 10 = 252 DMG to Kumatetsu. Shatter stacked to 2 Kumatetsu attacks Wulfrin ID 254163 | BD 6+1-2 = 5 | Miss [1] Astra | HP:570/570 | EN: 60/72 | DMG: 18 | MIT: 54 | ACC:7 | EVA: 2 | BH: 17 | REC: 2 | BLD: 24 [1] Wulfrin | HP: 570/570 | EN: 76/88 | DMG: 17 | MIT:79 | ACC:7 | AA | PHASE | EVA:2 | PARA-IM | BH:31 | REC: 4 | HLY: 8 | LD:5 | PA

For a moment, Plum thought the tall shadow had simply stopped to rest near her, as so many figures hugged the outline of the dance floor where the lights were dimmed, and conversations were hushed. The woman sipped at her drink, her subtle sway only noticeable in the movement of her dress. For a few minutes, the two stood in silence beside each other, enjoying the swirl of dancers gliding past. Then came the low timbre of his voice, smooth and unhurried, cutting with gentle precision through the thrum of the music. She glanced up, eyes bright behind her mask, with the faintest flicker of

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Sweet whispers and wisps of sweet delights would circle the corners of the room, as the jade haired man stepped past them all. There were things he could learn about the people here, but that was rude to do. He wasn't trying to go back to his old sense of self. Trying to find the connection between the people and their outer selves, as if that would give the man any greater information about the outside world. Though, it used to, he obsessed over it too much. When the object of the information was forbidden, and nearly impossible to use in a practical manner; there would not be a greater