Lessa

PH

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa | HP: 200/200 | EN: 43/43 | DMG: 10 | MIT: 42 | ACC: 2 | THORNS: 18 | BH: 6 | HB: 8 | REC: 2 | HLY: 2                                                                                                   Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad True Tier: 10 Level: 10 Paragon Level: 0 HP: 200/200 EN: 43/43 Stats: Damage: 10 Mitigation: 42 Accuracy: 2 Battle Healing: 6 Stealth Rating: -3 HB: 8 REC: 2 HLY: 2 Equipped Gear: Weapon/Armor/Trinket:    - Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY)                                                                                                         Armor/Trinket:    - Vega's Panoply (T4 HA - THNS THNS HB HB)                                                                                                              Shield/Armor/Trinket:    - Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)  Combat Mastery:   - Combat Mastery: Mitigation R3 Combat Shift:   - ST Shift Familiar Skill:   - Rending Familiar Skills:   - Battle Healing R3   - Energist   - Extended Weight Limit   - Heavy Armor R3   - Straight Sword R3 Extra Skills:   - First Aid R3   - Leadership R3 Addons:   - Hyperactive   - Iron Skin Mods:   - Energize   - Impetus   - Inspiring Speech   - Large Pockets   - Purify Inactive Mods:   - Press the Attack Battle Ready Inventory:   - Antidote Crystal   - Focus Stone Housing Buffs:   - Bedroom: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat   - Bathroom: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)   - Living Room: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.   - Attic (Storage): +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests   - Slime Farm: +5% EXP to a thread. Limit one use per month. Must be used on a player's first post in a thread. Cooldown begins counting down when used in a post.   - Basement: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll                                                                                                            CoB Spreadsheet

"Uh, yeah," Lessa replied dumbly. The trackers. An outpost. Forget the tentacles flippity-flapping from the Heavens above. The demon voice invading her mind. The motherfucking Temu Davy Jones from her worst nightmare, just shoving his face through the clouds to peep the fight. Oh no, none of that seemed important enough to warrant mentioning. But an outpost? Vital, vital information.

You're being a bitch, chided the reasonable part of her conscious, but it was small, and quiet, and drowned out by the childish screams of terror currently occupying Lessa's brain-space. Why was everyone else so calm? There was no way she was the only one having a crisis. Was everyone else just better at hiding it? Why was everyone hiding it? Why wasn't everyone else losing their minds This place was so scary, and - Oh my god, this chick is still talking. 

Lessa plastered on a smile, though it morphed into a grimace as she felt the rain trace its way along her upper lip. As it began to slosh between her teeth, she closed her mouth again. It was a valiant effort. "Look, it's been a weird tournament so far. Not having my opponent confess their love to me will be out of the ordinary." With a shiver that wasn't entirely from the cold, Lessa brought her sword to chest level and activated <<Hyperactive>>. The blue light that filled her blade, then traced its way up her arms and throughout her body reflected eerily against the falling rain and ever-shifting shadows. "Nice to meet you too, Pollux. No disrespect, but I'm hoping we can end this quickly, because this floor sucks ass."

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Rolling for highest LD!

241952 LD: 4

"No, I'm not dumb," she countered, and a soft laugh wove through her words. Now that she had a better handle on the situation, and she'd beaten back that pesky panic, she felt like she could finally take a deep breath again. For the first time since their fight began. "And you think pretty highly of yourself if you think I was going to rip off my own clothes, or better yet yours, right there on that stage."

Though her face remained relaxed, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, her blue eyes fired as she met his. "I'm not going to lie to you, I did feel something. And it felt good. But what pisses me off is that you felt the need to diffuse the situation. Where was my say in the matter? We already established that I like control, but you took that from me when you made that fight into something bigger than it needed to be."

To her credit, she managed to keep the surprise from her expression as the monster of a man reached out to trace her jaw. Even though she knew the touch would likely come, and even though she'd experienced much worse at his hands, the sensation still threw her for a loop. People didn't just... touch her. For years, Lessa had scraped by for the occasional display of affection, cherishing every held hand or kissed cheek. She treasured Alkor's freely-given hug like some precious family heirloom. 

Fuck, I really do need to get laid.

But she'd do it on her own terms. She'd rather spend the next decade living like a nun otherwise.

"Don't get your rate clock out," she began, "because God knows I don't have the col for that. But there are two things you need to know about me. One, my time in Aincrad has been packed with people making decisions for me because they think they know what's best for me. This felt a little like that." She tipped her head back, exposing her neck to the cold night air. The tips of her hair danced across the water's surface, but she didn't seem to notice. "Which brings me to two - I am surrounded by people who think they know me better than I know myself. And that they can just give me a little nudge, and I'll have some monumental breakthrough and reach my final form or something." She slanted him a knowing look. "This felt a little like that."

When silence fell between them again, she sighed. "Not the one-word answer you wanted, I know."

Despite the rain sluicing over her body, finding every gap in her armor, and reaching some very problematic places, Lessa couldn't help but laugh. "Honestly, I think you missed your calling as a real-estate agent. You're really selling me on this place." Drawing a deep breath, she donned her very best HGTV Southern Belle accent. "Do you have trouble falling asleep? The gentle sounds of a light summer rain will lull you to sleep every night! And I can guarantee there will never be a line at the Starbucks!"

An otherworldly screech from somewhere to their right zapped the life from Lessa more thoroughly than the forked lightning overhead might have. She sucked in a deep breath to ground herself. "Ooookay, message received," she ground out. "No fun allowed on Floor 29."

She squinted through the darkness, and nearly lifted one hand to shield her eyes from the storm, then remembered they were busy with the cart. "This looks like it might be the docks up here, maybe?" The lanterns that lined the streets swung in the wind, and their reflections in the rain-slicked surfaces gave Lessa a strange vertigo sensation. "It's so weird that they don't go out. And weirder that they're here when there are no NPCs. Do you think that's another design choice... or a glitch? Because you might be on to something with that. None of this feels normal. Or normal by the game's standards, I mean."

The pair slowed to a stop at the end of the pier, only a couple feet of wooden planks standing between them and oily black nothing. "This feels like the place, but- HOLYSHIP."

It just appeared. It didn't sail up quickly, or spawn, or materialize in ribbons or crystals or pixels with the pretty chime of bells like everything else. One heartbeat, Jomei and Lessa stood alone. The next, they were dwarfed by the most enormous ship Lessa had ever seen within Aincrad. In truth, short of the freighters she'd seen navigating the Great Lakes, it might have been among the largest ships she'd seen in her entire life. 

"This is not normal," Lessa panted out, a devotee reciting a trusted prayer, "this is not normal, this is not normal." When she turned to him, her expression teetered between amusement and hysterics. "Jomei, why do you and I always get the fucked up shit?"

ID: 241894 | LD: 10

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa | HP: 200/200 | EN: 43/43 | DMG: 10 | MIT: 42 | ACC: 2 | THORNS: 18 | BH: 6 | HB: 8 | REC: 2 | HLY: 2                                                                                                   Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad True Tier: 10 Level: 10 Paragon Level: 0 HP: 200/200 EN: 43/43 Stats: Damage: 10 Mitigation: 42 Accuracy: 2 Battle Healing: 6 Stealth Rating: -3 HB: 8 REC: 2 HLY: 2 Equipped Gear: Weapon/Armor/Trinket:    - Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY)                                                                                                         Armor/Trinket:    - Vega's Panoply (T4 HA - THNS THNS HB HB)                                                                                                              Shield/Armor/Trinket:    - Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)  Combat Mastery:   - Combat Mastery: Mitigation R3 Combat Shift:   - ST Shift Familiar Skill:   - Rending Familiar Skills:   - Battle Healing R3   - Energist   - Extended Weight Limit   - Heavy Armor R3   - Straight Sword R3 Extra Skills:   - First Aid R3   - Leadership R3 Addons:   - Hyperactive   - Iron Skin Mods:   - Energize   - Impetus   - Inspiring Speech   - Large Pockets   - Purify Inactive Mods:   - Press the Attack Battle Ready Inventory:   - None.   - Torch (But it would never work between them.) Housing Buffs:   - Bedroom: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat   - Bathroom: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)   - Living Room: Increases out of combatHP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.   - Attic (Storage): +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests   - Slime Farm: +5% EXP to a thread. Limit one use per month. Must be used on a player's first post in a thread. Cooldown begins counting down when used in a post.   - Basement: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll                                                                                                            CoB Spreadsheet

241739 | LD: 16

He looked just as he had the last time she saw him. His dark hair, the color of rich chocolate, mussed from absent and incessant finger-combing. His cheeks flushed from the heat, and his face contorted with a myriad of emotions. Pain, confusion, sorrow, anger, and a well of regret so deep that she might drown in it. Yes, he looked just as he had that fateful night, when they’d parted ways for the final time. And she knew he hadn’t forgiven her. She knew even before he spoke the words.

“Koga,” she greeted simply, taken aback by how loud the single word boomed in the theater. And how badly it shook her, how clumsily it rolled off her tongue. But she wouldn’t show it. She couldn’t show him an ounce of weakness. I did nothing wrong, she reminded herself for the millionth time.

“Let this week be about nothing more than strength,” she continued. “We’ll fight, and then we shall go our separate ways again.” Despite everything, her voice softened slightly. “I believe it would be best for both of us.”

Lessa had been called many things over the years, and an open book had absolutely been chief among them. Though her expression remained stony, her eyes widened with surprise at NIGHT's words. Then they quickly narrowed, as the shock faded and annoyance took up residence. Was this the woman's strategy, then? To keep making snarky remarks in an attempt to throw Telrenya off her game? It was... something, Lessa admitted. A viable approach, if you were into that kind of thing. You know, being a bitch.

The Guardian drew in a long breath through her nose, then blew it out again, before straightening to her full height. She was no Amazonian, but she had a few inches on her guildmate, and she used them all to look down her nose at her opponent. Had NIGHT been this catty during our last duel? "My date is doing just fine," she stated matter-of-factly, making every effort to leech the emotion from her voice. Just because NIGHT was feeling catty didn't mean Lessa had to start hissing and taking swipes at her. And though she winced inwardly as Tel fell victim to yet another attack by NIGHT's hand, she doubled down. "I'm proud of her, and glad we were partnered up for this fight."

Joy sparked as Tel's attack found its mark, the tip of the rapier piercing through NIGHT's chest. And yes, it was certainly weird that Lessa was celebrating the fact that her friend had just been stabbed, but that was something she would have to unpack later, at home. Orrrrr once they'd beaten the game, in the very lengthy and very expensive therapy sessions that she would surely find herself in.

Lessa was so focused on her partner's success that she nearly missed NIGHT's question. There was no chance, of course, of her missing the devastating blow that her guildmate dished out as a response. "I was just warning Tel that you're really good with a sword," Lessa informed her opponent, offering her a grin across the space between them. "But if you keep dishing out damage like that, I'm going to stop complimenting you."

Without thought, Lessa reached out to give Tel's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "No stress," she murmured. "That was a good hit, and I know you've got another big one in you. Let me get you some protection first, though." With the familiar twinkle of bells, she summoned her HUD, made a few selections, then brought a stuffed bear into existence. "It's a little unorthodox, but try tucking it on your person somewhere. If the tournament hosts are to be trusted, it'll give you a Safeguard."

A kaleidoscope of emotions swirled across the other player's expression. Lessa thought she caught surprise, then pleasure, and maybe a bit of embarrassment? It was evident what Jomei saw in her. Softening further, Lessa offered Telrenya a nod. "He has! All good things, I promise." Though it wasn't as if the man made a habit out of badmouthing people, especially someone like Tel. Shifting her attention to the food, Lessa brought her plate alongside the bowl of spaghetti, careful not to splash sauce on the pristine tablecloth as she scooped. "Really really. Definitely comfort foods for me. Even after all this time, I'm a big fan of things that taste like home."

---

"Oh, they can and will throw you off if they don't like you," Lessa informed Tel matter-of-factly, then popped another sushi roll into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, then added, "But you've got to be a real asshole for that to happen, from my experience. Like digging into them with spurs, yanking too hard on their mouths, that sort of thing. I really think if you respect them, they'll respect you. There's a balance, like with everything. If you ever want to give riding a try, just let me know. I'd be more than happy to show you the ropes."

She balanced her chopsticks alongside her fork on her empty plate, then leaned back, draping one arm over the back of her chair. Lessa had taken time to change into her combat gear, but even in her heavy armor, the position felt strangely natural. I guess that's what ten years of Aincrad gets you. "This was really nice," she told Tel, and meant it. "I know we didn't get much strategy talk in, but even if we lose this fight, I'll consider it time well spent. It was great getting to know you better." Then she winked. "Not that we're going to lose, of course. I won't be breaking my winning streak today."

The pair finally stood from the table, then walked side-by-side to the dueling ground. They painted an impressive picture, two striking blondes with long swords and an evenly matched gate, their cloaks billowing behind them with each step. Surprisingly, in that moment, Lessa felt good. Once again, the Clash of Blades tournament was surprising her.

What didn't surprise her was NIGHT's swift, deadly response to Tel's missed attack. Still, Lessa struggled to hide her sharp gasp as her guildmate expertly carved away over a quarter of her teammate's health. The woman was a force. She'd have to play the long game if she hoped to have a shot at taking out this power-couple. Power, and the faintest blue color, pulsed through her sword as Lessa activated Hyperactive.

"It's alright," Lessa softly reassured Telrenya, moving alongside her visibly frustrated partner. "NIGHT's good, but you'll get her next time." 

Then she glanced toward Kiru, the single unknown in the equation. Lessa knew the woman from reputation, and recognized her face from a couple of events, but that was all. "Nice to finally meet you!" she called out.

"Going well? Popping off?" That familiar rage rose again, bubbling through her like white-hot magma climbing a volcano. She'd felt the same way less than an hour before, facing him on that stage. Back then, she'd already been superheated by his words and his hands on her. Time and distance had done little to cool her off, as they'd both just discovered.

She'd stripped off her heavy armor, but hadn't taken the time to change into anything more stylish than the long-sleeved shirt and pants she wore beneath. The cool breeze that blew through the square tugged at the thin fabric, and sent her blonde hair flapping madly around her flushed face as she glared at Oscar. Essentially, Lessa looked every bit the part of the crazed madwoman. She lifted one finger, jabbing it accusingly in Oscar's direction. "We were just feeling each other up and having a great time, and then you decided to turn it into a therapy session, and you-"

The words died on her lips, and for a few heartbeats, Lessa stood motionless. Then she drew her finger back, balling her hand into a fist, before thudding it firmly against her forehead. She repeated the motion once, twice, three more times, a low, rich laugh rumbling from deep inside her. By the time she finally joined Oscar at the fountain's edge, the red flush had lessened considerably. "You are infuriatingly good at pushing my buttons, Oscar."

Lessa grew bug-eyed again. "It'd better not be my friend coming back for round two," she shot back, drilling a finger into Jomei's chest. "Don't you put that evil on me." But the action held no real malice, and when she pulled her finger back, she was smiling at him. She reached up to grab the lip of the bar, then hauled herself up and back onto her feet. Then she reached down to offer Jomei a hand, bringing him up beside her. "So looks like we need to head to the docks and wait for a shop." No sooner had the word left her mouth than her eyes narrowed, and she called her HUD back up with a twinkle of bells. "Uh yeah, shop. A shop, on the dock. That... doesn't make any sense." Her eyebrows furrowed, and she threw a glance toward her companion. "Have we come across typos in the game before? I'm sure this is meant to say-" she stopped mid-sentence when her eyes came to rest on the quest description again. "Ship. A ship. Now it says ship." Shaking her head slowly, Lessa dismissed the window, then began walking the direction they'd come. "I am seriously going crazy. I'd have sworn that said shop a minute ago."

Floor 29 welcomed the pair back with an especially loud crack of thunder. Lessa wrapped her cloak a little tighter around herself, yanking the edges of her already soaked turtleneck closer to her chin, and drawing her shoulders up to her ears. "You know," she began, her voice a little distorted by her cramped position, and the way she had to shout above the rain, "I really like storms. I would probably love this floor if it weren't for the whole monsters thing. And the no NPCs. I honestly think I'd get lonely." She spotted the cart propped up beneath H.P.'s small lean-to, and without wasting any time discussing the matter, grabbed the handles herself. As if to cut off the possibility of any argument, she cut Jomei a sideways glance as she began tugging the cart toward the harbor. "What about you? Could you live somewhere like this?"

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa | HP: 200/200 | EN: 43/43 | DMG: 11 | MIT: 52 | ACC: 2 | THORNS: 18 | BH: 6 | HB: 8 | REC: 2 | HLY: 2 | Sushi Plate                                                                                                      Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad True Tier: 10 Level: 10 Paragon Level: 0 HP: 200/200 EN: 43/43 Stats: Damage: 10 Mitigation: 42 Accuracy: 2 Battle Healing: 6 Stealth Rating: -3 HB: 8 REC: 2 HLY: 2 Equipped Gear: Weapon/Armor/Trinket:    - Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY)                                                                                                         Armor/Trinket:    - Vega's Panoply (T4 HA - THNS THNS HB HB)                                                                                                              Shield/Armor/Trinket:    - Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)  Combat Mastery:   - Combat Mastery: Mitigation R3 Combat Shift:   - ST Shift Familiar Skill:   - Rending Familiar Skills:   - Battle Healing R3   - Energist   - Extended Weight Limit   - Heavy Armor R3   - Straight Sword R3 Extra Skills:   - First Aid R3   - Leadership R3 Addons:   - Hyperactive   - Iron Skin Mods:   - Energize   - Impetus   - Inspiring Speech   - Large Pockets   - Purify Inactive Mods:   - Press the Attack Battle Ready Inventory:   - Blessing of the Wood x4   - Chocolate Truffles (T4 Vitality II Desserts) x13   - Congealing Ale (Tierless Antidote Salves) x4   - March to the Dawn (Instant HP Recovery 3) x14   - Rumbling Rum Party Favor (Tierless Mass HP Recovery Crystals) x13   - Teleportation Crystal x14   - Tiger's Balm (Tierless Antidote Salves) x1 Housing Buffs:   - Bedroom: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat   - Bathroom: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)   - Living Room: Increases out of combatHP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.   - Attic (Storage): +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests   - Slime Farm: +5% EXP to a thread. Limit one use per month. Must be used on a player's first post in a thread. Cooldown begins counting down when used in a post.   - Basement: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll                                                                                                            CoB Spreadsheet

A church? Just when she thought the duels couldn't get any stranger.

Lessa peaked inside the Grand Cathedral, eager to catch a glimpse of of her friend and guildmate (oh, and also opponent), NIGHT. Seeing her name on the couples roster had sent a thrill through Lessa, and the disappointment that they weren't allies was... strangely complex. But she hadn't seen the dark-haired woman in quite some time, and it would be nice to catch up again if they could steal a few moments before the fight began.

As she slipped through the massive double doors, she was struck, as always, by the building's beauty. Sunlight poured through the enormous stained-glass windows, sending color splashing across the stone floor. Flames jumped and swayed cheerfully atop candles in polished holders, and artwork clung to walls and occupied corners to further breathe life into the marvel of gothic architecture. Lessa loved it here. It reminded her of the hundreds of churches across Europe she swore she'd visit one day.

Long strides carried the woman away from the front entrance, and in typical Lessa fashion, she was too entranced by the history to notice the more immediate... threat? Plot twist? Uh, dinner date?

Surprise flashed across her features, but she schooled her expression into one of easy acceptance before approaching the other blonde. With a warm smile, Lessa slowed to a halt in front of Telrenya, then extended her hand for a shake. She hadn't equipped her gear yet, wearing only the comfortable shirt and pants that went beneath her heavy plate armor, so at least there were no bulky gauntlets to get in her way. "You must be Telrenya." As the woman stood at the same height, it was easy to catch and hold the other Player's gaze before continuing. "Jomei's told me so much about you. It's really great to finally put a face to the name." 

Her smile widened as her gaze dipped to the spread laid out for them. "Spaghetti and sushi!" she declared, hands clapping together in obvious delight. "I absolutely love that. You know, the best date I ever went on served peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and mac and cheese." Throwing her head back to laugh at the memory, Lessa dropped into the seat opposite Telrenya. "Clearly, I am neither a foodie, nor an expensive date."

ID: 241332 | LD: 6

Blinking owlishly back at him, Lessa hesitantly let her hands fall away from her ears. She wrapped one around the wrist of his hand that touched her cheek, squeezing appreciatively. “Shit, sorry,” she hissed out, trying for a sheepish smile, but landing on a grimace instead. “I, uh, react really poorly to distorted sounds for some reasons. Skipping records, alarms, anything played backward, or on repeat. Can’t tell you why. Triggers fight or flight.” 

She shifted on the dirty tavern floor, attempting to move her body off of his, and sending the glass bottle skittering away in the process. Inadvertently following its path, her gaze settled on a piece of paper resting a few feet away. Almost immediately, a quest window populated before her eyes.

“That must be the quest marker I noticed earlier,” Lessa exclaimed, some of the earlier fear bleeding away as excitement took up residence. “I guess I saw the piece of paper earlier, but didn’t really notice it, and that’s why the icon disappeared.” Narrowing her blue eyes, she read, “On The House. Fitting name, for a bar. Quick glance at the quest objectives doesn’t show anything too problematic. What do you think?”

The Town of Beginnings was no New York City. There were no skyscrapers, the pizza didn't come close, and she hadn't seen a single Naked Cowboy the entire time she'd been in Aincrad. Still, they did both share the characteristic of never sleeping. No matter the day, no matter the hour, someone wandered the streets. Often many someones, and the small parks and plazas that dotted the city saw their fair share of activity. For that reason, it was suspiring that Oscar had managed to find one without any other Players milling about. Or perhaps he'd simply scared them all off. He did cut an incredibly imposing figure. A figure she'd had on top of her multiple times over the past hour.

Grinding her teeth against the thought, Lessa focused instead on the slap of her boots on cobblestone as she stalked across the plaza. Night had fallen completely by then, plunging the floor in darkness, and ushering in cooler temperatures. The day had been a hot one, cooking beneath a sun with relatively little cloud-cover, and she'd spent the entirety of it watching her friends duke it out on the dueling stage. Surely, that was why her skin felt so raw, and why it seemed to tingle where it was exposed to the night air. Why her cheeks felt so flushed. Toooootally not lingering emotion. She'd absolutely gotten her shit together. Because that was what she was good at, after all. Lessa, the one who always has her shit together.

"Hey," she greeted. It felt weird to throw out something so casual after their duel had been anything but. Hell, she might as well have hit him with the "yo" or "s'up?" But she came to a halt a few feet from him, hooked her thumbs in her belts, and stared at a spot just below his chin. "Everyone's going out for food, so I don't have a lot of time. And if you want to come, you can."

"It sort of looked like a person, in the beginning," came her answer as she walked along the bar, one fingertip dragging a line through the dust. "But then it sort of... peeled its own skin off, I guess?" The blonde gave a small shudder, following alongside Jomei as the pair slipped behind the bar. "I didn't see it all, but what I caught was gruesome. I genuinely wouldn't have minded never seeing it again, which is why it's ridiculous that I'm back. Something about this place just.. tugged at me."

The toe of her boot bumped a discarded bottle, and as she stooped to retrieve it, the room was suddenly filled with sound. As Jomei straightened, Lessa crouched, unbridled, adrenaline-fueled terror sending the woman into a defensive maneuver. As she flung herself under the bar, she managed to take her companion out at the knees, dragging Jomei down on top of her. Eyes wide and rolling with the intense fear of a spooked horse, Lessa stared down into Jomei's face. Both hands were slapped over her ears. "What is that?" she shouted, the reaction far too extreme for the circumstances. "Tell me when it's over!" 

Get boozy, boozy, boozy (now it looks like a wasteland).
Get boozy, boozy, boozy (not the way that we remember).
Get boozy, boozy, boozy (one more sip for the past).
Get boozy, boozy, boozy (and always tip your bartenders).

"This is the place," Lessa announced, shouldering open the door and turning to usher Jomei in. Even as she motioned for him to follow her, her gaze tracked around the room, on high alert for... whatever that thing had been. She picked her way around the empty tables, some with overturned stools, some with mugs still perched atop the scarred wooden tops. And though she slowed as she approached the bar, she didn't stop until she hovered over where the creature had stood only hours before. "This is the spot where that freaky mob had been. I don't see any sign of it now." After executing a quick three-sixty, she added, "or any sign of anything, really. This place is super dead, just like the rest of the floor, save for all those monsters that attacked us in at the teleport plaza." Her lips drew into a thin white line. "Look, I'm a horror fan and everything, but this is super eerie. I'm just not used to seeing all these buildings with no people. It honestly wouldn't feel right in the real world, either. Like some giant ghost town."

It had come to this, then.

When she'd walked onto the dueling stage, she certainly hadn't expected whatever this had been. And she assumed her future duels wouldn't be quite so... lively, or else Minako and Kindling had some explaining to do. Or maybe the brunette's offer at the start of the fight hadn't been a mere show for the audience. Lessa made a mental note to follow up.

But in the moment, she bore down on Oscar, her eyes alight with a myriad of different emotions. Some of them scared her. Most of them confused her. All of them surprised her. Something between them had changed, and her head tilted curiously as she studied the brown-haired Beast. He claimed to know her so well, but she'd be the first to admit she didn't know him nearly as well as she thought she did.

With a flick of her wrist, Lessa removed the sword from Oscar's throat. Then she rolled her eyes. "You tell me you're so different from them," she droned, "but the second I asked you to show me some respect in this fight, you planted yourself on the end of my blade and offered yourself up. Show me the respect in that, you pretentious prick."

He leaned close to her, no doubt to whisper something witty against her cheek, and she slipped out from beneath him. As momentum carried him forward, she threw her body up and under his. When her weight slammed into him, it adjusted his trajectory, sending the huge man falling backward. Perhaps the system aided in the maneuver, or perhaps he wasn't fighting the assault as hard as he could have, but the result was the same. Oscar lay on his back, with Lessa towering above him, the sole of her boot pressed to his throat. The last rays of the dying day spread out behind her, setting her blonde hair aglow, but the expression she wore was the opposite of angelic. "I don't care if you want to bend me over again, Oscar. I don't care if you want to pull my hair, or have me on my back, or drag me off of your motherfucking pedestal. But when you do, it will be on my terms, do you understand me?"

Her eyes never left his as she planted the tip of her sword between his legs and pushed.

And she thought she'd been been angry before.

Fury rose in her chest, a living, breathing thing that threatened to explode out of her at a moment's notice. Her hands trembled again, though this time for a completely different reason. How dare he? HOW. DARE. HE. Get her all riled up, like some freaking exhibitionistic display, then try to psychoanalyze her, then kiss her, and then... what? Be there for her? The longer she waited, managing to look down her nose at him despite their massive height difference, the more completely her rage turned to disgust. 

"Tch," she scoffed, finally looking away until she was certain she had her emotions in check. Perhaps for the first time since the fight began. She walked to him, but this time, there was no sway of her hips. And despite the control she felt she'd finally established, there was a part of her that still itched to bury her fist in the man's pretty face. Maybe next time.

"Bring your sword back out," she demanded. "I don't care what the fuck you think of me, Oscar, or whatever this little show was. You will show me respect. You will stop patronizing me, and you will finish this fight." To emphasize the point, she brought the tip of Arcael's Might's to his neck. His health was dangerously low now - it wouldn't take much. It would take more for Lessa to strike an unarmed man.

She wasn't going to speak. She had promised herself she was done entertaining him, playing his stupid game, and she was just going to finish the fight and walk away. So even Lessa was startled when the sound of her own voice reached her ears. "Here's what I think. I think I'm up on that pedestal because even as people tell me how resolved I am, and how strong, and how brave, those same people would rather me be up high where they can be sure I can't get hurt. Where they can be sure I won't get the chance to disappoint them."

When Divine Rancor finally materialized in Oscar's hand, she raked her blade across his torso, taking a sick satisfaction in the way his health bar plummeted. Served him right, a small, satisfied voice rationalized. 

As a history teacher, Lessa had read a lot of first-hand accounts of battlefields. One consistent factor had been the sound - the cacophony that had filled the ears, the mind, the entire being, rendering some helpless in their most vulnerable moments. The screams of the battle charge, the wails of the wounded, the thunder of hooves, the crack of gunfire and the boom of cannons. "If you want to know what a real war sounded like," a reenactor at Fort Mackinac had joked, back when Lessa had been Alyssa, "then turn your hearing aids up to eleven before we start firing our muskets."

Though Lessa would never know the horror of war, in that moment, she thought she understood the overwhelming barrage of sensation those soldiers had described. The crowd cheered (or maybe jeered), but the noise was strangely distorted by the time it reached her ears. Perhaps that had to do with the hammering of her own heart, and the whoosh of her breath as her chest heaved beneath her shattered breastplate. Her hands trembled at her sides, her sword lost somewhere in the middle of their... skirmish. And none of it held a candle to the conflict taking place inside her, emotions without name or logic grappling for purchase at the edge of her consciousness. Then her eyes found his again, drawn back to them like magnets, the same way they had for the duration of the fight. And in them, she found the truth that she hadn't found in his words.

And as ice cold clarity replaced the hot panic ignited by his kiss, her smirk mirrored his own.

"Does it get tiring, Oscar? Being so confident, all the time? Being so fucking sure that you're right, especially when you're so very, very wrong? You've given me a lot to unpack, so let's go in order." She threw her arms out wide, turning first to the crowd, then to her opponent directly. "I like control? Of course I do. I was getting an advanced degree in classroom management. I LOVE control. And everyone has their own opinions of me? Yeah, they have them about you, too. Some people think that you're a self-righteous asshole." Her eyes narrowed, a storm moving across a still lake as she pressed on. "Am I on a pedestal? Maybe I am. But I never wanted it. I have never wanted to be. I lived like a hermit on Floor 20 for two years so I didn't have to deal with people and their expectations of me." She let her arms drop to her sides. "So you're right again. I would welcome the chance to be just Lessa again."

The woman paused to walk to the spot where her sword lay. Stooping to retrieve it, she activated Hyperactive, then glanced over her shoulder toward where Oscar stood. She wiped the back of her gauntleted hand over her lips, though whether it was to clean off the kiss or the dirt he'd left, no one could be sure. "Here's where you're so completely, so confidently wrong. I like having control. I would love if someone blew up this Mother Teresa persona that I never asked for. But neither of those things are what I need most. And neither of those things are worth begging for."

You're a fuckin' monster, Lessa.

His words sent a shudder through her, and it had nothing to do with the sexual tension snapping and sizzling like electricity between them. Am I a fucking monster? Her blue eyes bore into his, cold ice meeting hot fire, and she swore the events on that glacier played out in her peripheral vision. The same way they played out in her dreams most nights. If I'm a monster, you would be the one to know. But she didn't think that Oscar would be heartless enough to drag that into their duel, even in an attempt to throw her off her game. The man was chaos incarnate, but he wasn't completely heartless. He'd leave her secret alone, leave it out of their duel. So so would she.

"You've got me all figured out, huh?" Her gaze never left his as she strode toward him, closing the distance he'd just opened, and tearing her sword free in one smooth motion. She let it rest over her shoulder like a batter on deck, and her posture held all sorts of promise as she lined herself up before him. As she tilted her face up to take him in, the fingers of her left hand absently climbed his chest. "You think that after five minutes in the dueling ring with me, you know who I truly am? You've learned all my secrets? How about I let you in on one more." She fisted her hand in the fabric of his shirt, yanking him down so the former guildmates stood eye to eye. Her hot breath washed over his face as she whispered, "There is not one person in this goddamn floating tower from Hell who knows what I need." 

As she spoke, she slowly sank her sword into his stomach. With her final declaration, she tore it out again. "But I can guarantee you, you don't have it."

In an instant, shock replaced the coy amusement she'd worn for the entirety of the fight. She'd let her guard down - that had been her first mistake. Looking into Oscar's eyes had been the second. 

That attacks she'd just used, where she drew him close just to run him through? She'd borrowed that from another swordsman. Of course, he had used it on her, in a demonstration that had shaken her to her very core. It had left her wondering who he was. Who she was. Who she was to him.

He'd grabbed for her throat once, too, straddling her hips as he pinned her to the ground. "So fragile," he had whispered, his breath hot and heavy against her ear. "So tender. You could die just as easily as any mob in this game." And as she'd stared up into those shattered-stardust eyes, a shade not unlike Oscar's, Lessa had sobbed out her apologies. She'd begged for his forgiveness. She had accepted the burden he'd placed squarely on his shoulders. Hell, she'd welcomed it. Because if she was solely responsible for his ruin, it meant he cared enough to let her in. And wasn't that better than nothing?

Lessa gritted her teeth, glaring up into eyes that weren't Alkor's, and ground out three distinct words with the air she had left. "Go. Fuck. Yourself."

She bucked her hips, an action that was as explicit as it was an attempt to jam her knee into the man's balls, but he had already disappeared. Speedy little fucker, Lessa found herself thinking as she found her feet for the second time in a handful of minutes. She thrust her elbows back, cracking her back loudly, then did the same to her neck with a quick roll. She shoved her blonde hair back from her face, moved her sword from her left hand to her right, and shifted her weight so it settled squarely between her booted feet. Only then did she cut a glance toward Oscar, as if as an afterthought.

"Baby," she began, her voice a throaty purr that likely didn't reach the first row of spectators. "You can't possibly think that, out of the two of us, I'll be the one begging."

And without another warning, the Empress closed the distance between them, Arcael's Might a mere swath of gold light in her joined hands. She raked it down his front, leaving a trail of red across his broad chest, and cleaving another chunk from his health bar.

The woman huffed out a breath, and though she rolled her eyes, they held no real annoyance. "That was your first mistake," she informed him, reaching back to drag her mop of blonde hair over one shoulder, exposing her sweaty neck to the cool breeze drifting across the meadow. Even in the midst of their repartee, she couldn't quite let that statement go unexplained, or else risk looking like a complete prick. "Either you'll fuck me, or I'll fuck you." She flashed him a wicked grin. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. But either way, I don't want you pulling your punches, got it? I won't get stronger if you take it easy on me. And like I said. That's what I'm here for. The immense pleasure of your company is just an added bonus."

She held Arcael's Might casually at her side, the picture of a soldier at ease, as she sauntered closer to Oscar. One hand absently traced the missing chunk of her breastplate, the cloth of her shirt beneath, and the hint of bare collarbone that his attack had exposed. Dipping her chin, she watched him through heavily lidded eyes as her fingertips moved from her chest to his forearm, his shoulder, the nape of his neck.

Rocking onto her tiptoes, the Guardian pressed her chest to his chest, her cheek to his cheek, her lips to his ear. "If you wanted me out of my clothes," she whispered, "you should have just asked." She swung her right arm back, and with a soft grunt of effort, buried her blade to the hilt in Oscar's hard stomach. The whole thing might have been a tad sexier if she'd been carrying, say, a pretty little dagger, but it still got her point across.

Once the stun had taken effect, Lessa leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Now you just lie there and let me do all of the work." 

She knew it was coming. Though years might have passed since she'd held a damage-dealing position on the Frontlines, she hadn't completely lost her spatial awareness. The problem was, she couldn't do anything to avoid the attack. He moved with far more speed and grace than a man his size should be allowed, and in seconds, the warm, rough skin of his palm was pressed to her neck. That feels nice, came an absent thought, before everything else happened in quick succession. Her legs vanished from beneath her, her weight shifted, and her breastplate slammed against the stage's wooden floor. The breath left her lungs with a soft whooshing sound.

Though the move left her rattled, the system helped her recover in a matter of seconds. She was left to gaze up at her attacker, one hand clamped around his wrist, the other gripping at the blade of his sword. As he plunged Divine Rancor deeper through her chest, she tightened her hold on the steel, emitting an ugly screeching noise as the weapon skated across her gauntlet. "You," she countered breathily, "have no idea how much I can take."

When the weight atop her vanished, Lessa wasted no time launching to her feet. One hand moved to the spot in her chest where his blade had been, and the crimson gash that marked the damage dealt. I'm already at half health, she thought, though she made every effort to keep the concern from her expression. How was she meant to learn from Oscar if he killed her within two minutes of their duel starting? What a waste.

"Very public," she called back, distracting herself with the banter. "You're telling me you're not into that kind of thing?"