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Game Master
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About Lessa

  • Title
    Guardian of Aincrad
  • Birthday 05/28/1992

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  • Guild Name
    The Tarot

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  1. Like Jomei, Lessa found herself slipping further beneath the hot water. Unlike him, she did not stop at her shoulders, fully submerging herself before breaking the surface again with a soft gasp. One hand shoved her sopping hair back from her flushed face, then wiped at her eyes to clear them. It didn’t do much good, as her hand was equally soaked, but she managed to blink away the water as her red-headed companion spoke. ”Yeah,” she replied slowly, offering him a small smile through the steam that hung between them. “I’m working on it. I can’t mope around forever, right?” But something i
  2. Lessa crouched at the base of a tall tree. Though its spindly branches held no leaves - sticks reaching like skeletal fingers toward the gray sky - it still provided excellent cover. The trunk was so thick that Lessa couldn’t wrap her arms all the way around it. Her entire body remained hidden from the enemy team. Briefly, the woman considered simply hunkering down there, hiding from view like a bush-squatter in Fortnight. She would likely go unnoticed for a while. But what was the fun in that? ”Gotta admit, Nari.” Her voice seemed to boom in the still of the frozen forest. “That’s p
  3. Team B Genuine fear gripped her as Jomei toppled over and plummeted toward the ground. Even before he’d landed in the fluffy powder, she was moving toward him. It was pure instinct. Deep down, she knew her friend wasn’t in danger from the fall; Any damage he took would be negligible, and he would recover the health immediately. But she couldn’t stop herself from worrying. It wasn’t until she stood above him, confirming that he was indeed alright, that she could draw a full breath. ”You definitely deserved it,” she informed him matter-of-factly. Then, as she turned away, she made sure
  4. Team B The snowball hit its mark, plowing into her face, and sending tiny ice crystals skittering across her flushed cheeks. The moment it struck, Lessa instinctively drew a breath, sucking in snow as she did so. By the time she'd finished spluttering and swiping at her face, she'd missed Jomei's reply. But she already knew the answer to her question. The snow in her eyes, nose, and mouth said it all. "Wow," she drawled, planting her hands on her hips as she regarded the Irishman. Her scowl seemed genuine enough, but the daggers she shot him did no real damage. "I was going to sugges
  5. So what else was there? Tailoring wasn’t an option, even if she’d enjoyed that sort of thing. Moving in on Bahr’s clients didn’t make a whole lot of sense. What about being a cook? At the thought, Lessa choked on a hard, self-deprecating laugh. Her, a cook? Yeah, maybe if she wanted to poison all of Aincrad. Or burn it down. And that was assuming she actually remembered to turn on the stove. "Wait," she said aloud, slowing to a halt. What was she thinking? Professions were not a reflection of her real-life strengths. Rather, they were an opportunity to try new things. To allow the game to
  6. Floor 1 Do what you like. It was a simple enough concept, but Lessa had chewed on the question for the past hour. Oliver had been wise to suggest choosing a profession that she enjoyed, as she would be more likely to stick with it. But what did she actually enjoy doing these days? Fighting? Sleeping? Spending time with her wolf, and with Bahr? Yeah, none of those really pointed to a specific career path. Lessa reached up and scrubbed at her face with both hands. “Maybe this is a bad idea,” she muttered to no one in particular, her words lost to the dull roar of the first floor c
  7. The laugh burst from her with the sudden force of a cannon. “Sorry,” she muttered when Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “But no, you’re thinking of ‘irrigation.’ ‘Interrogation’ is a little different. It means asking a bunch of questions. It’s what police officers might do with a suspect.” “Ohhhh.” Oliver nodded sagely. “I see.” Then excitement sparked in his brown eyes as a new thought occurred to him. “Could being a cop be a profession? Like, could I be a cop here in Aincrad?” He beamed. “You’d make a great cop, Alyssa.” “Thanks, Ollie,” she answered, “so would you.” She placed a hand on hi
  8. Lessa couldn’t stop the smile from unfurling across her chapped lips. She brought a hand to the top of his head, tousled his already unruly hair. “That’s a really good question, kid.” He ducked his head, shying away from her hand in typical nine year-old boy fashion. But the pleased smile he wore did not go unnoticed. “Aw man,” he drawled, “why’d you do that?” “Because I can.” When he straightened again, Oliver drove a single finger into Lessa’s arm. “So whatcha gonna do?” He proceeded to jab her with each additional query. “Are you going to open the shop? Are you going to start
  9. She blew out a heavy breath, the expelled air sending her bangs flying. Maybe she would be happier with a shop to run, but blacksmithing simply did not appeal to her anymore. “Whatcha staring at?” The sudden voice startled Lessa, and her entire body jolted as she whipped around. What she found was wide, laughing brown eyes, flushed cheeks, and a grin too big for a tiny face. “Dang it, Oliver,” she managed, a hand pressed to her heart to keep it from bursting. “Why’d you sneak up on me like that?” The boy rolled his eyes in dramatic fashion, then answered, “I didn’t sneak up on y
  10. Profession Change: Blacksmith to Cook Floor 2 Wild Rose Forge. Lessa stared up at the building, hands on her hips, lower lip caught between her teeth. Once, she had been so incredibly proud of the shop, and the work she did there. But something had changed, and the urge to craft had completely left her. How many years had passed since she’d lifted that hammer, or lit that fire? Hell, she wasn’t even sure that the key would fit the lock anymore. What if a squatter had moved into the space, and she hadn’t noticed, considering she never actually went in there anymore? The woma
  11. ꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 54 HP: 820/820 EN: 120/120 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 45 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)
  12. Thank you to all participants for your engagement and your patience. I know that this event launched at an inopportune time, so keep an eye out for a revamp somewhere down the line! Wild enough, we had a tie between the two teams! Congrats to both the red team and the blue team. Rewards for this event are as follows - points * 5 * tier (capped at 4) experience. Nari - 50 points - 50*5*4= 1000 EXP Rebekah - 35 points - 35*5*4= 700 EXP Nicklaus - 5 points - 5*5*2 = 50 EXP Koga - 5 points - 5*5*4= 100 EXP NIGHT - 85 points - 85*5*4= 1700 EXP Hirru - 10 points - 10*5*4 = 2
  13. Lessa shrugged one shoulder, half of her attention still occupied by Pinball's presence. "I was never much of a team name type," she confessed. "I'm happy to go with whatever the group decides." Despite all of her hesitations, the woman couldn't find any reason to reject Pinball's offered buffs. Not only was it a kind gesture, the additional stats would come in handy as she ventured into the mysterious and unpredictable labyrinth. So she sucked in a slow breath, sending her bangs fluttering on an equally slow exhale, and accepted the offered feasts. "Thank you," she muttered to Pinball. "
  14. Some of the unease left Lessa as Nari executed a shaky curtsey. She had a wild and sudden urge to give one of her own, but opted against it, fearing she may give the impression of mocking the other woman. Still, she didn't stop the small smile that bloomed across her chapped lips. "Nari, then," the blonde confirmed, inclining her head slightly in acceptance. "The whole name is beautiful, but, yeah." A soft, breathy laugh escaped her. "A mouthful." Lessa shifted her attention to the familiar, wound around Nari's neck like... well, a fancy woman's expensive fox pelt. What a morbid thought,
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