Lessa

꧁༺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)

“Oh, it’s on!” // Team B!

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

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. "

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,

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 54 HP: 820/820 EN: 120/120 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 2 Battle Healing: 45 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 THRNS: 72 LD: 3 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Violet Ribbon (T2 Trinket - 3 LD) Skills:

꧁༺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)

For transparency's sake, I'm signing up as a casual poster. I bet this shocks no one.

Spring Fling What? Spring Fling is a brand new OOC event. Rather than interacting IC, players will be given a list of "prompts" or "elements" to incorporate into the writing they are doing around the site. This allows writers to participate even if they're slow about posting, or their characters are just not the partying type; sometimes it can be difficult to shove your character into the "mold" of a site-wide IC event. Who? Players will be split into two teams. First, they will be separated by "casual poster" and "power poster," to ensure there is about an equal number of each o

Lessa grinned at the stranger, lifting a hand in both greeting and reassurance. "No, don't worry about it. Stay comfy. I get it." And she did, every cell in her body giving a collective sigh of contentment as she eased into the warm water. "This is heavenly," she breathed, closing her eyes to simply savor the moment. When it had passed, and her eyes had popped open once more, she swung her gaze to Jomei. "I saw Baldur on my way over," Lessa explained, shifting to position herself a few feet away from her red-haired friend. "He didn't have his PJs on, so I don't think he's sleeping yet. Bu

꧁༺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)

꧁༺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)

At the sound of Baldur's voice, Lessa rocked onto the toes of her boots to peer over the horse's back. "Howdy yourself," she called back, grin somehow managing to grow with the man's arrival. Greta, on the other hand, gave him an appraising stare. Then she gave a non-committal hmph. "Definitely a warrior," she decided after a few seconds. "Definitely not a horse person." The Player laughed again, shaking her head as she watched Baldur circle the mare and come to rest beside her. "We won't hold that against him," Lessa replied, responding with an obligatory shoulder bump of her own. "

She grinned as he bowed, and of course, she replied in turn. With a flutter of her eyelashes and a practiced "princess wave," she let him shower her with praise. "Yes, yes, I know it may be overwhelming being in the company of such raw talent and immeasurable beauty," she crooned in a horrendous British accent. "But don't forget, I am a mere mortal. I bleed, just like you and all the other filthy casuals." Only when she'd dropped her hand again did the booming laugh escape her. "I'm glad you're impressed," Lessa told him, her usual Michiganian accent returning. "360NoScope and 420BlazeIt just

The short walk back to the party left her exhausted. The actual journey itself wasn’t the culprit, of course - she wasn’t that out of shape. But the few moments alone allowed her to finally decompress. Two fights, two victories, with the second a perfect performance. Or maybe it might have, had Alkor not been her partner. Nothing between them was perfect, as demonstrated by their exchange during and after the duel. He’d emptied her out, and filled her back up again, rubbed her raw, and still somehow left her feeling better about everything. Good and bad, black and white, he was so damn complic

“Yup,” Lessa confirmed, loosing a small sigh at the mention of them. “They’re my brothers. Triplets, actually, and older than me. I was the odd one out, but I did everything I could to be ‘one of the guys.’” Now she laughed softly, shaking her head. “I figure that’s why I’ve always been a little rough around the edges, and something of a tom-boy. I have no idea how to do my makeup right, or style my hair, or match my shoes to my shirt. But I dont shy away from hard work, and I like getting my hands dirty. Plus, my Call of Duty K:D is pretty impressive, which is what really matters, right?”

She'd showered him with compliments, and he hadn't responded in turn. In fact, he'd made quick work of reminding her that they weren't actually good for each other, and probably never would be. Charming, a small part of her thought wryly. But in truth, Lessa found she didn't particularly mind the lack of a response. Granted, a significant reason behind that was sheer exhaustion - why keep drilling in a field when you know there's simply no oil? But she also figured, just maybe, she was truly beginning to come to terms with what he was - and what he wasn't. And maybe that was enough.

"Maybe," Lessa replied, flashing him a grin as she plunged the tip of her massive blade into the ground. She leaned on it casually as she regarded the red-haired swordsman. "I was honestly a complete noob when I joined SAO. Now first person shooters, I was awesome at. Having to keep up with older brothers definitely improved my own skills, and more often than not, I beat them. I was decent at sporting games, too, and driving games. But all this stuff?" With one hand, the woman motioned to their surroundings. "Swords, and magic, and quests, and all that fancy stuff?" She blew out a hard breath

I didn't think you had it in you. Regret pricked at the back of her mind. Trash talk had been her second language before Aincrad, and she'd thrown insults around with the best of them. In fact, Alyssa had told many a young man to do wildly inappropriate things with their mothers in the heat of battle. So it seemed so foreign a concept that some people may not know that side of her. That they hadn't known her before this black cloud firmly affixed itself to the space above her head. But that's a lie. A small sigh of relief. If Jomei could see through that mask she couldn't s

“I’m…” Her voice trailed as Lessa lifted both hands, then let them drop again. How did she feel? Was she unhappy? “I’m nervous,” she finally decided. “The last time he and I dueled, it had a very big impact on us. And not in a good way.” Absently, she wiped her damp palms across her kimono’s pretty fabric. “It messed us up pretty bad, and I’m not sure we ever really talked it over.” No, that battle topped the list of times she and Alkor never came to an understanding. When he had run her through with the weapon she’d forged him, Lessa had seen him as a monster. His complete disregard for

Even as Alkor corrected himself, and encouraged her not to answer his question, Lessa lifted a hand to quiet him. “No,” she interjected, “I’ll answer it, because I do think you’ll understand.” That same hand found his, and as he drew her to her feet in a swirl of blue fabric and blonde hair, she offered him a smile as warm as the sun-streaked sky. And even if the expression was a bit sad along the edges, it was still a smile. “It’s just instinct. It’s that voice, telling me that if people love me, I must be doing something right. And if they’ve left me, then I must have wronged them somehow.”

Lessa tilted her face to the sun, focusing on the way it warmed her skin throughout Alkor’s dialogue. So many times, she wanted to interject. Every time, she caught herself before she could do so. He asked for quiet, even begged for it, when all she knew how to do was speak. He might as well have asked a bird to stay grounded, or a fish to cease its swimming. It was no wonder he drained her. He fell silent, and for the longest time, she said nothing. A splatter of applause from the nearby dojo marked the end of another fight, and the twinkle of windchimes and gargle of a water feature pai

"Hardy har har," she drawled, though she couldn't keep the smile from creeping onto her own lips. While the miss had been embarrassing, she recognized that she was not the first to ever whiff it, nor would she be the last. It was a game, after all, and sometimes she simply came up short. Jomei's good natured teasing also worked to lessen the blow. "I got the first one," she eventually replied. "I suppose I just wanted to see what kind of man you were, and if you could manage two of them." With a wink, she stepped between her companion and the three newcomers. As it always did, the need f

Cosmic lottery. Lessa couldn't help but grin at the man's use of the term. It had been a while since another Player had seemed genuinely pleased to bump into her, and the thought of it warmed her. "I'm always up for some exploring," she answered him, reaching down to scratch behind Okami's ear. Riker, apparently jealous of the attention, shoved his way between her leg and the other familiar. She snorted a small laugh, then gave her wolf a soft swat on the butt. "You need to learn to share," she informed him. Straightening, Lessa adjusted the belts that had gone askew as she'd bent over. H

For a moment, all Lessa could do was stare at him. She had just confessed to treating him like a trophy, not a human being, and he hadn't batted an eye. In fact, he seemed to ignore her words entirely, simply latching on to what she considered a less important part of her speech. Even his closing statement, my conflict might never end, felt like the echo of a long-ago declaration. How many times had she heard him speak those words, or similar ones? How many times had she attempted to change his mind, to provide comfort, to offer guidance. Her lips parted to do so again, but only a slow exhaled