Lessa

@Shield I'm not sure if you read my initial post (as long as it was), but I value community over canon. I have for a long time, even during my stint on staff. If we determine an action will benefit the writers, even if canon isn't adhered to 100%, I support it. I know that others don't feel that way, but I don't believe actually being trapped in a virtual game and writing about it with others should be considered identical. If you're actually in SAO, sure, you do things a certain way. On a writing website, you have to worry about member retention, inviting and keeping new members, and

To address this, I don't think it would be all that difficult. Claim there was a glitch and a few people existed in limbo for a while. They come back out of the blue. Nothing else in your story has to change. If you want to meet them and have the "wow you're alive" character development, great. If not, you don't have to write with them. But that's just how I see it playing out. I know a few people might consider this a "cop out," but I still believe the benefits would outweigh any concerns.

Loosely based on SAO? Staff has taken great pains to keep everything canon, for as long as I've been here. If this were a mere "trapped in a game" situation, sure. But we have reflected SAO in every way possible.

Is that enough to settle for a site that could do so much better?

Why would you be against their revival? I'm assuming it is an IC reason, considering the players aren't IP banned (as far as I know). Is it because they are too powerful? I know more than a few veterans would be willing to come back at half or zero experience, without expecting to be given original items. They just want their character back, and that would be incentive enough to reinsert themselves in the writing community.

Though I've been a member of the site for three years or so, I've spent considerable chunks of that time on various hiatuses. While many of those "rage quits" can be attributed to staff issues or site disputes, one thing has remained constant for the past two and a half years - a lack of community. Don't misunderstand, I think the OOC community is fantastic. You're some of the funniest, most ridiculous people I've ever met, and that's what keeps drawing me back. But ultimately, the IC aspects fall flat. What I mean when I say community is the sense of belonging and purpose among the

Lines of pain criss-crossed her face as Baldur spoke, her stomach knotting at the words. Were he given a second chance, he might still don the nerve gear? The mere thought of it made her a bit nauseous, but out of respect for her friend, she did not make that fact known. When she did speak, however, her voice was heavy with pent-up emotion. Her face also revealed such things, but in attempt to further disguise it, she kept her gaze on the path ahead. "Of course the real world is better," she replied simply. "That's where our lives are. Our memories. Our childhoods. Our houses, and our pet

"It is, isn't it?" Lessa replied, regarding the holiday season. The thought widened the smile she wore, and she cupped the mug between her palms, relishing the cheery warmth it brought her. "It has always been my favorite time of year," she informed him unabashedly. "Even though I'm twenty-something, Christmas gets me like a little kid again." Her blue eyes twinkled. "I started listening to Christmas music months early. Seriously, I'm talking before Halloween. It drove my brothers crazy." The blonde paused long enough to drink the hot chocolate, and a beat longer to appreciate the rich ta

His answer, mixed parts embarrassed apology and lingering anger, somehow worked to calm me. I had expected a cocky, angst-filled bozo who amused himself by beating up NPCs. Sure, it was a worst-case scenario, but the game had left me a bit jaded. But the man surprised me, demonstrating a concern for all people in Aincrad, even those who were merely strings of code. Had I not been thinking on that same point just a moment before? Sure, I could not relate to everything that the stranger shared with me, but we could at least find common ground in that. "I can't say I have any martial arts ex

The young man's compliment twisted her lips into a wry smile. "I've been told I'm kind," she answered, pausing to spoon more soup, "and I wonder if that's half the trouble." It was a lousy thing to say, Lessa recognized, but the other player's mood was contagious; it settled over her like a dark cloud, and threatened to release more than a bit of thunder were she not to make a change. So, instead, she replaced her humorless smile with a wider, less genuine one. "Nah," she countered simply, shoulder rising and falling in an easy shrug. She anchored her spoon on the side of the bowl, and wi

At the boy's offer, Lessa's eyes widened with surprise. "Oh no," she countered, "I couldn't ask you to give me the hot chocolate for free. Seriously, something that tastes this good is worth the col." She swiveled atop her chair, gaze wandering to the window for a brief moment. It was difficult to see much of anything, as the sky bereft of moon or stars shed little light on their virtual world. But occasionally, the window panes rattled with a particularly wild gust of cold, autumn air. The sight prompted a shiver from the girl, even though she was warmed through by the nearby fire. "Its a ver

Ahahahaha. He's definitely cute enough.

When she spoke, Lessa chose her words carefully. Each word was deliberate, a cautious attempt at relaying her thoughts without offending her friend. "It means a lot that you would place that sort of trust in me." How could she make him, and so many others, understand? The thought of carrying a name back to the real world, or finding someone's parents, terrified her. This task was only necessary if said individual fell victim to Aincrad's cruelties, and that was not something she particularly enjoyed dwelling on. Alkor had never instilled within her this responsibility, and for that, she was gr

The young man's matter-of-fact answer caught the young woman by surprise. "Oh," she breathed, the deflating a bit as the wind left her sails. I had been having such a good day, too. Why it surprised her, Lessa could not say for sure. She should have expected it. Most players who sat at a bar in the middle of the day, watching their ice cubes swirl in their glass, were not in the best of moods. And the way that the boy gripped his head should have been an indication of his poor state; she recognized this as she finally took her first real look at him. The stranger spoke, and Lessa listene

He's awfully friendly, Lessa mused with a quiet appreciation. She imagined that, even if she stayed in Aincrad for the rest of her life, she would never meet every single player. Of course, spending her remaining years in the game was not a pleasant thought, but the fact still stood. Every single day, she could see a new face, or make a new acquaintance. Or, as was the case that evening, stumble into a new tavern. But she was finding that fewer and fewer individuals were exercising even the most basic manners, let alone going out of their way to be especially kind. In truth, she could not blam

The barkeep, a middle-aged brunette with funky bleached bangs, flashed Lessa a winning smile. "You got it," she said, moving to her feet, and taking a couple of steps toward the kitchen. Then, as an afterthought, she turned back to the swordswoman. "Soup's pepperjack crab. Is that alright?" Lessa's expression mirrored the barkeep's. "Honestly," she confessed, "I'm to the point where I'd eat anything. And I mean anything. But pepperjack crab is one of my favorites, so of course it's alright." "Groovy," the woman answered, giving a quick nod. During the exchange, Lessa had hardly notic

There were many unpleasant things within Aincrad. The reality of being trapped. The bosses. The boars. The player killers. The whole "death in-game means death out-of-game" bit. And that list seemed to grow the longer that the game went on. But there were also the less-severe problems, many of which were not unique to the virtual reality world. Exhaustion, especially after a grueling workout, to note one. And hunger. The hunger was real, especially when a player forwent a meal or two for an exceptionally successful material gathering trip. Like a gambler at a hot table, unable to walk away, Le

"Hakkasan Tavern. Hakkasan." Lessa let the word roll off her tongue, marveling at how foreign it felt. She repeated it a couple more times, trying a few different variations of pronunciation. She had no idea which was correct, but after a few attempts, she determined the least she could do was pay the establishment a visit. While the third floor was far from her least favorite, it was not one that she often frequented; she had never before stumbled across this particular wooden sign, or the tavern it advertised. It was rare that the blonde find something new in Aincrad, and as such, she found

"Thief! Get back here!" The shout rose above the din of the city, and startled me from my window-shopping. Instinctively, I turned, my gaze immediately picking through the crowd for the source of the cry. It settled upon a panic-stricken brunette, who seemed no older than the middle schoolers I had worked with before Aincrad. A frown creased my features at the sight; robbery was never acceptable, but picking on young people really rubbed me the wrong way. I moved into a jog, coming to rest beside the girl, and only then realizing that she had no curser. It was an NPC. Slight embarrassment

Here's my face.

The sudden rattling of a door nearly frightened Lessa out of her skin. Despite her extensive experience with the paranormal, loud noises proved to be the bane of her existence. She loosed a string of exceptionally unladylike curses, wrapping her arms about herself to calm her galloping heart. "Maybe we found our answer," she muttered, when she finally managed to find her voice. Hikoru's voice carried, and she felt herself relax slightly. He was the one who had tried to get inside, and not some great beast, or disgruntled spirit. He could make such a graceful exit, but getting inside was an ent

Like a good friend should, Lessa listened in thoughtful silence while Baldur spoke. However, despite her best efforts, she could not keep the bemused smirk from curling her lips. By the end, she was nearly grinning at him. Perhaps it was inappropriate, and more than a little insensitive, but his short story had left her teetering on the edge of a fit of giggles. "Baldur," she started, her blue eyes dancing as she leveled her gaze. "When you tell me that Jason wasn't a good guy, you've got me thinking of kicking puppies or stealing candy from babies." She gave an amused snort, her breath a

"Hmm." The noise was light, and thoughtful, and only just barely audible. How could the man possibly prefer to stay here, trapped in this floating prison? The thought baffled her, but she managed to keep the perplexed expression from her face. Rather, she remained neutral. All the while, her mind raced. Was it possible to grow so acclimated to the game that it became reality? In a sense, she understood; she was far past considering the threats imaginary. But the outside world still felt real. It was her goal. It motivated her, and she wanted it more than anything else. "Lessa still feels