Lessa

In a tangle of limbs, hair, and cloth, Lessa burst into the shop. She nearly tripped over a pretty display just inside the doorway, her gauntlet clanging against her heavy breastplate as she attempted to right herself. "Gahhh," she managed, the sound somehow even louder than her armor and her general clumsiness. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for tripping, and for being so loud, and-" Helplessly, Lessa gestured toward the way she'd just come. "And for just everything. I'm normally more put together, I swear. It's just that I have literally one hour left before I'm supposed to fight a floor boss, and I don't have anything that I need, and I will take anything that you have that insta-heals. Seriously. Anything. And I'll give you whatever you want for it."

Blue eyes wide and pleading, she stared down the young lady behind the counter. Her chest rose and fell dramatically beneath her heavy armor, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Seriously. Anything. I am desperate."

Lessa sends Acanthus 42 mats.
Lessa takes 14 March to the Dawn (Instant HP Recovery 3)s.

Good luck on the boss fight today. You got this!

Lessa stared down at the words, her expression vacant even as pleasure and pain warred just beneath the surface. It had been months since she had heard from her good friend, and much longer since she had seen him. When was the last time that he had taken interest in the Frontlines, let alone enough to send her a message about it? His attention, and his well-wishes, shone like warm sunlight.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to permeate the canopy of her own doubts. Despite the many years she’d spent dreaming of switching to a support build, and the countless hours she’d dedicated to acquiring new gear, memorizing new strategy, and reassigning her skill points, she feared she’d made a horrible mistake. She was a DPS, just as she had been from the beginning. What business did she have venturing into uncharted territory, especially only moments before a deadly boss battle? Were there not Players better equipped, better prepared, just… all-around better?

Noticing her unease, Riker loosed a small whimper, his damp nose nudging her hand. She blinked rapidly, then dismissed the message window with a flick of her wrist. “You’re right,” she informed her wolf companion, though her heart wasn’t quite in it. “I just have to do it. It’s too late to back out, and stressing isn’t going to help anyone.” It was with that thought that the Guardian and her familiar joined the gathered raid party.

She saw NIGHT first, and the familiar face drew her like a moth to a flame. “Hey, the food looks great,” she murmured, spooning some onto a plate. Was she hungry? No. Was the food for her? Probably not. Did the idea of eating while the air stank of death appeal to her? Not even a little. But she did it anyway, because it gave her something to do with her hands.

A dark haired young man approached her as she ate, and greeted her just as she shoveled an eclair into her mouth. “Oh yeah, hi,” she garbled around the food. She attempted to smile at him as she accepted the trade, but she felt cream filling oozing out from the corner of her mouth, and quickly held up a hand to shield her face from his view. By the time she’d swallowed the dessert, he was gone.

Cordelia was the next person she saw, and she quickly waved her guildmate down. “Hey, I meant to give you these a couple of days ago, but I totally forgot.” A few practiced hand motions called up a trade window, and she offered the woman a Troll’s Blood and a Teleportation Crystal. “You’re going to want these, especially the TP crystal. Seriously. I’m, uh, I’m not losing anyone today. If shit goes sideways, please use it.” She watched Cordelia disappear into the crowd, and as visions of another death filled her head, she felt herself sinking.

Then she saw Jomei, and for the first time since her arrival, she felt like she could take a deep breath again. Not only was he one of her best friends, but as a first-time tank, he was surely experiencing some of the same apprehensions as she was. With a wave at NIGHT, she moved to the Emerald Duelist’s side. “Found you,” she said by way of greeting, hoping that her relief wasn’t as clear on her face as it was in her voice. She gave the taller man a small shoulder bump, then settled in beside him to gaze at the sea of faces. “I am so, so out of my depth,” she heard herself whisper. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this. But I want to try.” She reached out to squeeze his arm gently, then added, “And I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have as my shield.”

A movement in peripheral vision caused Lessa to hesitate. Something in her chest ached, and the next breath she drew seemed to come with a bit more difficulty. “I’ll be right back,” she told Jomei, before she slipped by him and deeper into the mob. She would have sworn she’d seen a familiar flash of red.

He hadn’t told her he’d be there. Not that they told eachother everything, of course… not anymore. But wouldn’t he have said something? But it was if he'd vanished into thin air. Maybe if she could find him, and talk to him, then-

Lessa ran straight into another Player. She thumped off his broad torso, exhaling sharply with surprise before taking a stuttering step backward. “Crap, crap, sorry,” she mumbled. “I was looking for someone, and I-”

The blue and white haori tipped her off, and by the time her eyes had followed his body up to his face, her own was alight with joy. “Baldur!” Lessa shrieked, once more throwing herself against the man’s chest, though this time she snaked her arms around his waist. She gave a hard squeeze. “It’s been too long,” she mumbled into the fabric of his jacket. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Lessa | HP: 1081/1081 | EN: 126/126 | DMG: 13 | MIT:187 | EVA:2 | THORNS:72 | BH:32 | HB: 43 | MENDING: 2 | REC: 8 | HLY: 8 | DOTE: 3/3 | PROB:36                                                                                                                            

"It's so pretty in here," Lessa breathed, gaze sweeping over the entirety of the shop. Though the clock was ticking, and she really shouldn't be wasting any time sight-seeing, the place was too nice to not appreciate. Natural sunlight spilled through the windows, splashing across the cozy furniture and well-worn rug. The urge to simply curl up in one of those armchairs and take a nap consumed her, and if she were a cat, she absolutely would have. Unfortunately, she was not a cat. She was a Frontliner, and she had very little time left to prepare before the big floor boss fight.

If you hadn't procrastinated, you could have enjoyed yourself a bit more, a small voice chided, but the blonde blocked it out with a quick shake of her head. No use in worrying about that now - not when she had so many other things to worry about.

She found what she was looking for, and rather than plucking the balms off the shelf (in a very demure, very mindful fashion), she simply stuck an arm out and swept every single container into the folds of her cloak. "I know I look crazy," she told the shopkeep with a small, apologetic smile. "But I'm not. I promise. I'm just overly cautious."

Accepting with love. Thank you for everything, NIGHT. <3

Accepting, thank you! <3

Skill(s) Being Dropped: Straight Sword R5 (30), Battle Healing (2 Ranks - 16), Fighting Spirit (10), Charge (10)
Mod(s)/Addon(s)/Shift(s) Being Dropped: Impetus (4), Emergency Recovery (6), Justified Riposte (5), Ferocity (4), Stamina (4)
SP Refunded: 89
Cost: Utilizing Paragon Level 25's Free Skill Respec

That same spike of panic plunged through her at Jomei's sudden ensnarement, but her friend's quip did wonders to stave off the fear. Rather than standing there, just as rooted as he was, she flew into action. In a single swipe, her blade severed both of the vines that clung to him. She slammed the weapon back into its hilt, then shoved both arms under Jomei's. "Upsy daisy." Bending, and lifting with her knees (good form is critical, you know), she once more dragged the swordsman away from the writhing remains. 

Once the pair had moved out of range, she stopped to look down at Jomei's face. His cheeks were flushed, which she assumed was a side effect of being choked out, but he appeared otherwise unscathed. So she scowled at him. "I don't mean to be rude, but maybe I could play the damsel in distress next time? You've gotten do to it twice now."

She shifted her hold on him to help the man find his feet, even as the Guardian wrenched its injured limbs back into the darkness. It bellowed in protest. Lessa bellowed her response.

"Oh blow it out your ass."

Lessa remained quiet as Bahr spoke, only offering the occasional nod or hum of agreement while they moved through the city. He’d always had a tendency to think aloud, and more often than not, it worked for him. If walking through it with her helped him reach a possible solution, she’d roll out that metaphorical red carpet. Besides, the violent emotions spawned by Oli’s disappearance and Dominic’s smile threw themselves at her mental walls like a beast in a cage. If she let down her defenses, and allowed herself to examine those feelings too closely, they’d cripple her. She couldn’t do that, so she focused solely on Bahr’s words, and putting one foot in front of the other.

Only the chime of an incoming message finally caused her to break her silence. Lessa instinctively pulled up the window and read aloud, though she knew Bahr also received the same note. 

Quote

To: Lessa, Bahr

Yes. Is that important?

- Olivia

She dismissed her HUD without stopping to reply - Olivia would understand - and turned to look at Bahr. “I think you’re definitely onto something,” Lessa began, then paused as he teleported them both to the twenty-eighth floor. As soon as they emerged into the crisp autumn air, she continued her thought. “I’m going to bet it's a church, too. That symbolism is just too good for Dominic to pass up. Regardless of whether or not he actually believes in the religious stuff, it must just thrill him to be doing all of this in a place of worship.” She stopped, grimaced, then said, “I wonder if the church was defiled before or after he showed up.”

Lessa lapsed into silence for a moment, letting the pleasant sounds of small-town life wash over them. Children shrieked as they chased each other in circles, their parents observing from nearby huddles. Wagon wheels turned, hooves clomped, and birds sang from the brightly colored canopies of fall trees. It was a beautiful place, though, like Bahr, she had spent very little time there. At his comment about horses, she felt the smile soften her hard expression. It felt nice, given the circumstances.

“You think you know me sooooo well,” she teased gently, even as she led them toward the first public stable she came across. 

A stocky man in worn overalls and scuffed work boots walked out of what Lessa assumed was the tack room. He wiped his hands on a ratty cloth as they approached, and though he didn’t exactly scowl, his intelligent crystal-blue eyes assessed them beneath bushy brows. “Help you two?” he asked.

“I hope so,” came Lessa’s answer. “We’re looking for a pair of horses.”

“Cart horses? Or are you plannin’ to go under saddle?” 

“Under saddle, please.” Slanting Bahr a glance, she muttered, “It’ll be quicker.”

The man nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Lessa. Then he asked, “You lookin’ to borrow for the day, or something more long-term?”

Surely, the NPC saw the longing in Lessa’s expression - there was no hiding it. But the blonde blew out a long breath, shook her head, and answered, “Just for the day, please. It’s not the time for anything more permanent.”

Those eyebrows lifted in apparent surprise, and Lessa caught what she thought might have been approval in his nod. “S’pose I can do that,” the man stated, then gestured for them to follow. He escorted them into the cool shade of the stable, and slowed in front of two stalls, where two white heads peaked through the wooden slats. 

Lessa peered into each before turning back to the stable master. “Which one would you say is greener?”

He studied her for a moment. With a snort, he replied, “Y’got a mare there, don’tcha?”

At that, Lessa’s face split in a wide grin. “I guess that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?” The Guardian reached over to brush her fingertips over Bahr’s arm, then she pointed toward the stall on the left. “Take the gelding. He’ll go easier on you. I’ve got the mare.”

As she always did when it came to horses, Lessa allowed herself to slip into autopilot. She moved quickly, as Oliver remained at forefront of her mind, but she still paused to scratch the horse’s chest. To bare her teeth right back when she tightened the girth and the mare turned to nip at her. To bury her face in the horse’s mane and just breathe deeply. By the time she led her mount from the barn, Bahr, his horse, and the NPC stood waiting for her.

“How much for the both?” she asked, slowing to a halt before the older man. “Actually, first, do they have names?”

His smile came slow, but it held immeasurable pleasure. “Aye, they do. The gelding’s Aetheon, and the mare’s Eous.” 

Lessa could only stare owlishly at the man for a full five seconds before she burst out laughing. “Of course they are,” she managed, shaking her head even as she swung up into the saddle. “Of courseeeee they are.” Settling into the western saddle’s deep seat, she asked again, “How much?”

The man shook his head, then waved her off with a flick of one weathered hand. “We’ll square up when you get back. Take good care of ‘em.”

”I will,” Lessa assured him. She went to urge her mount forward, then thought of one final question. “We’re, ah, looking for a church. Can you think of any around here?”

Mischief flashed in those ocean-blue eyes, and the man answered, “Why? You kids aiming to get hitched?”

Despite the annoyance churning like a stormy sea behind her blue eyes, Lessa couldn't pass up the opportunity to toss Jomei a glance over her shoulder. She flashed him an angelic smile, batted her eyelashes, and answered, "Who, me?" with all the innocence she could muster. The words had hardly passed her lips when another gleam of white snagged her gaze. "Oh shit," she uttered without thinking. "There's another one."

The flower burst into pixels between her cupped hands, and she straightened, then paused to press her balled fists into the small of her back. She stretched, all the while studying the darkness just beyond the treeline. "I feel it watching us," she murmured, taking a couple steps closer to her companion. "It's not super comfy. I know it's technically a good guy, doing the Lorax thing and protecting the trees, but... yeesh." A small shudder ran through her as the blonde turned back to the nearest bush. "I'm ready to be done."

ID 234234 | LD 19 +3 | Flower Found | CD 2

"It's just a quest," Lessa muttered under her breath as she tip-toed away from Jomei. Though their break by the campfire had worked to smooth rough edges, she couldn't stop some of the frustration from creeping back in. "It's just a quest, and I just have to find some stupid flowers, and then I can be done." The needs of the suffering NPCs weighed heavy on her heart, but the desire to simply wash her hands of it all couldn't be ignored. She could go home, and climb in bed, and take a nap, and not give another fuck about the creepy Grove Guardian. Even as she thought it, she felt the creature's eyes on her, and goosebumps raced up and down her arms. Somehow, that alone fanned the flames of her anger higher.

"Stupid little piece of shit with your stupid little- oh!" Lessa paused, lips parted on yet another insult, as a shimmer of white caught her attention. "It's a flower!"

ID 234228 | LD 18 + 3 | CD 9

1/5 Flowers Found
28/31 Guardian Tolerance 

Lessa blew out a soft pft sound, then shook her head. “You may not be making a fortune,” she began, “but I sure hope that you don’t stop making songs. I enjoy listening to your stuff. And one day, you’ve got to teach me how to play something. Like anything. I’m not picky. I’ve actually always wanted to play the violin.”

She tugged her friend to his feet, barking out a small laugh that didn’t carry much humor. “Yeah, that didn’t go well at all. I agree, let’s try not doing that again. More sneaky.” Lessa winced, then added, “I am not sneaky. I’ve always been more of the ‘go in guns blazing’ type. So I’ll follow your lead.”

After helping Jomei pack up their quick campsite, Lessa walked beside him in a companionable silence. It wasn’t until they’d neared the grove that he spoke. She gave a small nod, then a thoughtful hum. “I don’t know if it will actually make a difference, but maybe we should try to be as quiet as possible? Keep talking to a minimum, and only whispers? And maybe spread out a little, so we don’t cause too much of a disturbance in one area?” Loosing a one-shouldered shrug, she admitted, “It’s probably worth a shot. I don’t know what harm it could do.”

She flashed him a quick thumbs up. “Let’s do this.”

Peeling off from Jomei, long strides carried her toward a large, leafy bush. She picked through it with equal parts speed and quiet.

ID 234223 | LD 5 +3 | Nothing found | CD 12

0/5 Flowers Found
12/31 Guardian Tolerance 

The transition from the dim jail to the bright, bustling Starting City streets was a jarring one. In a way, it felt a bit like leaving a dark movie theater for the fresh air and sunny skies of the outside world. But this time, the horror that she left behind wasn't simply a movie, and reality had no comforts to offer her. The light and sound slapped at her as she burst through the doors, and the blonde found herself staggering as she squinted against the glare. "Yeah, I did," she managed, a little breathless. "I caught it, I just-" She gulped for a breath and found none, a diver with an empty tank. "I need to sit for a second." Fortunately, the nearest bench stood only ten feet away, nestled between two ceramic pots that overflowed with red flowers. Even more fortunate, it was unoccupied.

The Guardian crashed onto it, the movement as graceless as it was desperate, and she shoved her head between her knees. In that moment, Lessa felt as if her entire world was crumbling. So many young, innocent lives. Oli. Her Oli. And the Universe, in all its twisted, fucked-up humor, made Dominic responsible once more. How? Why? Wasn't once enough?

"I'm so sorry," Lessa mumbled weakly to the ground. "It’s just a lot.” For a minute, she blocked out the chatting, the laughter, the ringing of bells on shop doors. Instead, she pictured herself in the front seat of a rollercoaster. As the train rumbled its way up the hill, she took a long, slow breath. She held it as she dangled there, draped over the crest of the hill, waiting for the rest of the carts to catch up. Then she expelled the air, lingering for a heartbeat with empty lungs, as the rollercoaster dipped through its valley.

Up the hill. Hang. Down the hill. Bottom out.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

She had followed Millennium Force in her mind a full three times before she finally glanced up again. Though her cheeks were pale, and her skin had a sickly quality to it, her lips were drawn in a thin, sturdy line.

“Alright,” she stated, the finality in the single word dropping like an anvil in a Looney Toons cartoon. Lessa planted her hands on her knees and forced herself back to her feet, rolled her shoulders, then let her head fall back. Staring up at the robin’s-egg-blue sky, she spoke to the Universe in a voice meant for Bahr. “I won’t say I’m okay, because I’m not okay. I’m really, really messed up. I’m-” Her jaw tightened, and her throat worked as she swallowed back whatever it was she was going to say next. Instead, she finished simply, “I’m going to wait to break down until we’ve got Oli back. I can hold it together that long.”

Finally, she let her gaze return to Bahr’s. She offered him a small nod, meant to express both apology and thanks, then stated, “I’m wasting time. Let’s get moving.”

Their pace wasn’t quite a run, but the pair moved briskly toward the central teleportation plaza. Lessa had to work a bit harder at it, given Bahr had a solid eight inches on her, but she still managed to think aloud as they traveled. “I don’t know what to think about Dominic. He’s screwed up, that was obvious after Sanctuary. But there is something showy about him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his true personality.” Lessa nearly barreled into a young man exiting a shop, and had to side-step into Bahr in order to avoid a collision. “Sorry,” she mumbled, to both Bahr and the other Player, before continuing. Her voice was strained, and the shadows still darkened her blue eyes, but talking through it had always been her best problem solving strategy. “I can’t decide if he’s really that smart, or that delusional. Is he playing up the crazy to get a rise out of us? Did he really plan all of this, or is he just taking credit?”

After a beat of silence, she blew out a hard, frustrated breath. “It probably doesn’t matter. We just need to figure out where the kids are.” They’d arrived at the teleportation gate, and in a moment of sheer panic, Lessa realized still hadn’t deduced what floor they should be traveling to. She teetered, for just a second, on the edge of hysterics. 

Up. Inhale. Hang. Hold. Down. Exhale. Bottom. Hold.

I promised Bahr I’d keep it together.

I can do that for Oli.

“I don’t know,” she confessed finally, reaching up with both hands to scrub at her face. “Close to the Heavens? So a mountain or something? Or a tower?”

At Jomei's reassurance, a weight lifted from Lessa's chest. For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she could take a deep breath. She did so, letting the cold night air fill her lungs, and relishing in the way that it felt. The scent of the forest surrounded her - rich soil, leafy vegetation, the slightly musty smell of decaying wood. A chilly breeze carried with it the faintest whiff of smoke, and the NPC's plight once again moved to the forefront of her mind. They should get back to it, but this still wasn't a moment that she cared to leave behind. In truth, she wouldn't mind lingering in the light and the warmth from the fire, and the light and the warmth of her best friend, for the rest of the evening.

"Thank you," she told him, her eyes meeting his, and she spent a few seconds simply watching the flames dance in his emerald gaze. Then she gave a small, sheepish bark of laughter. "I know I keep saying that, but I just... well, I really mean it. You're incredible, and I am so lucky that you have my back." He always had, even as far back as their first bandit encounter. They'd bonded over their shared experiences back then, too, as they'd both frequented the same Dublin bar. He'd called her lass back then. When had he stopped doing that? Why had he stopped doing that? She might have to give him grief for it later.

Her expression softened, and she added, "But listen, if you do start charging a therapy fee, please keep in mind that I am dirt poor. I still need to be able to afford you."

The blonde dropped Jomei's hands just long enough to stand up, and she offered one of her own to help pull him to his feet. "What do you say we get a move on? We've got some Sronians to take care of, some flowers to pick, and some Grove Guardian ass to kick."

Lessa thudded to her knees, the slime squelching beneath her in a most unappealing way. Instinctively, Lessa slid an arm beneath Cordelia's thin shoulders, lifting her upright, and supporting some of her weight. The woman coughed and shuddered, and Lessa let her gaze sweep over her guildmate while she waited for her to catch her breath. No visible wounds, thank goodness. And another look at her bar showed full health and no afflictions. Why, then, had she been trapped in the weird cocoon?

"Hey Cord," the Guardian greeted gently once Cordelia's sputtering had slowed. "I've got you. You're alright." What a strange thing to say - Lessa had no way of knowing if Cord was actually alright. But the reassurances still fell from her lips like a cooling and familiar rain. For his part, Riker laid down at Cordelia's feet, tail thumping rhythmically in the slime. Bits of it clung to his espresso-colored fur, but if it bothered him, he gave no indication.

Lessa glanced up at Pinball, then back to Cord. "Pin found you," she stated, as if suddenly feeling the urge to explain Pinball's presence. It felt odd for her to take center stage when she had only been called in as a reinforcement. "Do you, uh, have any idea what happened to you?"

"Floor two, huh?" Lessa echoed, pursing her lips in thought. Then she shook her head. "I actually don't think I've been to that one. I'll have to check it out though. Thanks for the tip."

She slipped into silence as Raidou began speaking, and he gave every indication that the words did not come easily. Sure, she'd poked at him a bit, encouraging him to open up to her, but she hadn't expected this. She'd thrown open the proverbial floodgates, and now she'd have to ride the wave that followed. She enjoyed providing a listening ear, and so many people came to her for advice, but damn if this particular situation didn't make her feel at least a little guilty.

"Haine sounds like a very special woman," she stated once her companion had fallen silent. "I think we all need someone in our lives like that. Someone to pull us out of the shadows." A shadow passed over her eyes before she added, "Or pull us back from the edge. A good friend will do that for us, even if they have to drag us kicking and screaming." Her voice trailed, and for a moment, Lessa simply stared at her mug. Her thumb stroked slowly over the polished ceramic, back and forth, a gesture she didn't even realize she was doing. "There are periods of time, I think, where we don't really know what's best for ourselves anymore. It could be exhaustion, or just big emotions, like grief or anger. But we give ourselves over to it, and we stop acting rationally. I've been through it a few times since we got stuck in here. I stopped eating, I stopped going out, I stopped... well, I stopped functioning. And every time, someone who loved me kept me afloat until I could at least tread water again." She offered Raidou a small smile, then inclined her head toward the barkeep. "This time is no different. Someone's holding me up. Doesn't matter much that they're NPCs."

Lessa's gaze turned back to Raidou, and she finished with, "I'm glad that you found someone to run to. It's so much easier to do than running away. Maybe not in the moment, but in the end."

"Sounds like you have something very special going on over there," she answered, once he brought up his new home. Then she huffed out a small laugh. "Yeah, you're welcome, but you don't need to thank me. We're all just doing the best we can in this pretty floating prison of ours."

   >To: Pinball
>> This is a joke, right?
>>> You know what, nevermind.
>>>> I'll be right there.
>>>>> PLEASE don't touch anything.

She ran the entire way, her heavy armor clanging, and Riker loping along at her heels. The entire trip, questions swirled. Who in the world could be trapped in the slime? Why were they there? What could these new slime-traps mean for the future of the game? Would they spend the rest of their time in Aincrad looking over their shoulders for rogue, murderous slime monsters? And then, of course, there was the less important but still present concern - why in the world would Pinball reach out to her? Their relationship had always been cordial at best, and while Lessa cared for the man, she wasn't sure she considered him a close friend. The last time they'd spoken had been last winter, when he'd sent his annual "merry christmas" message. Apparently, a murderous ex-boyfriend really throws a wrench into any kinship. Though Pin had reached out to explain that he and Bahr were on better terms, Lessa wasn't sure how much of it she believed. The entire situation had been traumatic, and she hadn't been the one on the pointy end of Bahr's sword.

She schooled her face into an expression of mild concern, attempting to hide the complete confusion as she finally came to a stop at Pinball's side. "You weren't kidding," she said by way of greeting. "That is a girl trapped in slime." Her wolf familiar picked his way closer, sniffing hesitantly at the gelatinous blob, which gave Lessa an idea. "Did you try inspecting her? Maybe that will give us something?" Even as she spoke, the woman called up her HUD, scanning the slime prison. Nothing.

"It's like the slime is blocking me from really seeing her," Lessa mused aloud, taking a few steps around the slime like a boxer circling his opponent. "But I'll be honest, she does look kind of familiar." The white hair and fair complexion tugged on Lessa's memories, but there was something slightly off about her appearance. That, and the slime made it feel a bit like she was looking through muddy water. "I wonder if I can just-"

A green health bar suddenly populated over the slime, as if Lessa had finally looked at it from just the right angle. And the name attached to it froze the blood in her veins.

"It's Cord!" Lessa cried out. "Pin, it's Cord! We have to get her out!" Her movements held the same panicked desperation as her voice as she fell on the slime, gauntleted fingers raking through the green goo like a child in a sandbox. Had she been thinking clearly, she might have stopped to consider the risks involved with violently tearing Cordelia from the slime. What if it was somehow keeping her alive, and dragging her away might cause her harm? What if the slime were a living thing, and fought back? What if she was doing the wrong thing? But she wasn't thinking clearly. She dug and dug, only distantly aware of Riker and Pinball taking up position on either side of her. 

At the mention of the Firm Anima Guild, Lessa lifted a finger in the air and pointed it at Eruda. It had mayonnaise on it, and she nearly brought it to her mouth to lick it off. Then she remembered where she was, and opted for a napkin instead. "Actually, yeah," she confirmed as she cleaned the olive-burger-goodness from her hand. "I've heard of Firm Anima. A guy I've hung out with a couple of times is a member, if I remember correctly. His name is Raidou. I'm not sure if you know him, or how active he actually is in the guild, since he only mentioned it in passing. But he's a good guy. You should talk to him, if you haven't yet. Tell him Lessa sent you. You'll probably find him on the fourth floor, at the White Rabbit."

She tucked her napkin between her thighs, then propped her elbow on the table, and her chin on her fist. "I think it's great what your guild does, by the way. I used to run a guild with similar goals." At the memory of the Guardians, some of the light left her expression. She still smiled, but it no longer reached her eyes. The guild had been a dream of hers, once upon a time, but member dynamics had thrown a wrench in all of her plans. Having a founding member kill another Player hadn't exactly helped matters, either. 

Lessa scooped up her glass of pop and took a long swig, as if the cold sweetness might wash the memory away. It didn't, but another bite of olive burger certainly helped.

"I understand wanting to do something for the people you love," Lessa replied, grateful for the change of topic. "In high school, I remember listening to a bunch of different artists, just because my best friend liked them. My sister used to give me crap for it, because she thought I was just trying to make him like me more or something. It was less about fitting in with him, though, and more that I wanted to experience something that brought him joy. I wanted to share something with him, and honor something he liked, you know?" She flicked her gaze toward the tea, then laughed softly. "I mean, yeah, you get it."

"Cal sounds like he was just as amazing in the real world," she continued, shifting to watch the man who hovered over the steaming grill. "Not sure if I could handle banana on a burger, but as someone who eats applesauce on my mac and cheese, I'm not sure I'm in any position to criticize." 

When Eruda spoke of her father, Lessa's attention snapped back to her. "Your dad's in the game?" she demanded, with a bit more force than necessary. Wincing inwardly, she corrected, "Sorry, I just... I haven't talked with anyone who had family in the game. It must be nice, having that support network? And that familiar face? Aside from Cal's, of course."

"Mmhmm," Lessa hummed in agreement, looking back to the night sky. "I've always been a big sunrise and sunset girl. The colors just blow me away, and it's always nice to slow down and appreciate how beautiful the world is." She troubled her bottom lip for a long moment, then released a slow sigh. "It's pretty here, too, don't get me wrong. But yeah, it's different." She let her eyes slip closed, then whispered, "I'm having a harder time picturing it though. When I imagine a morning sky, I see those pillars. When I think of snowfall, I think of a specific floor. And I can't remember what Mackinac Island smelled like anymore." She laughed softly, but the sound held no real humor. "One of my favorite places in the world. Fudge, lilacs, the citronella in the fly spray for the horses. I always wished I could bottle it up, but now I can't even remember. There are so many things I can't remember."

After a few beats of silence, she opened her eyes, and gave her head a quick shake. "Woof, sorry," she began, snagging her can and downing the rest of the contents. She watched the container burst into pixels, raining down around her now empty hand. "Total buzzkill. Sorry that you always seem to get moody Lessa."

At his question, the woman scoffed. "Definitely the next floor raid," she informed him. "I like being optimistic as much at the next person, but I've never found looking ahead to the hundredth floor as anything but discouraging. We're still so far away. It helps to set small goals. Just getting to the next floor without losing anyone would be enough for me. For now, at least."

As Jomei spoke, Lessa nodded along. "I get that completely. I've retired from the Frontlines just as many times, and a few times, it actually stuck. I've sat out quite a few, focusing on other projects..." Her voice trailed, and a blush crept up her cheeks; she hoped the dark might hide the embarrassment. "Or, you know, just being a hermit. I'm pretty sure I spent a full calendar year away from other Players. Baldur occasionally stopped by to check on me, but that was it. I enjoyed the solitude. There are days I think about doing it again."

She studied Jomei's hands for a moment, then reached over and took one, drawing it into her own lap. She clasped it between her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But you couldn't. You have to keep fighting. And I respect the hell out of you for that. Thanks for being there when I wasn't. And for motivating me to keep going, too. If you're in that boss room for the next fight, then I will be, too."

Lessa grinned back at the girl. "Well then," she began, "I guess you've got an awesome look. Nice to meet you, Eruda." She took another bite of her burger, studying the other blonde as she chewed thoughtfully. Then her expression grew shadowed. "I'm sorry, I don't recognize you," she confessed. "I'm really horrible with people though, and honestly, I could barely pay attention to my own party during that floor boss fight." She tilted her head slightly, then added, "But your name does sound kind of familiar. Maybe I've heard people talking about you? Do you spend much time on the Information Broker's board? I'm always reading the rumors, so maybe I saw your name there. Or maybe we have friends in common?"

Lessa blinked down at Eruda's drink choice, then shook her head. "I'd love to tease you for drinking tea with your burger, but I'm the last person who can give anyone grief over weird flavor combinations."

The pair fell into companionable silence while they ate, and when Eruda finally posed her question, Lessa took a second to swallow her bite. "This is actually my first time. I've been hitting up burger joints all over Aincrad for years, hoping I could convince one to make me an olive burger. Cal's was just the next on my long list. Not only was he open to the idea, he made a damn good one." Adoration warmed Lessa's every word, and her eyes danced with love as she watched the man scrape the grill. "I'd die for him."

Her gaze shifted back to Eruda. "It's so neat that you know people from the real world, and that this place holds such special memories for you." Though Lessa's smile never wavered, it no longer reached her eyes. "I don't know anyone from the outside. It's just me and the people I've met since we got trapped here now."

"Yessir," Lessa answered, snapping off a quick salute. "I'll be right back."

It didn't take long to find enough kindling for the fire. Given Srona was well-known for its trees, there were plenty to choose from, and the apparent lack of rain meant everything was bone-dry. Does it even rain here? Lessa found herself wondering as she scooped up twigs and shoved them into the crook of her bent arm. She would have assumed it had to, given how well things grew, but it wasn't as if there was any sunlight, either. She wouldn't be surprised if the vegetation thrived without the water. Also, you know... video game.

Still mulling it over, Lessa strode back to their makeshift campsite. A comfortable silence hung between herself and her companion as she unceremoniously dumped her collection onto the hard-packed earth, then knelt to begin assembling her fire. Alyssa might have been thrown out of Daisies before she could ever be promoted to Girl Scout, but Lessa remembered enough to construct a somewhat stable teepee. It didn't take long before a pleasant crackling filled their small space, helped along by the pack of matches still in Lessa's inventory. The girl loved fires in the fireplace and autumn scented candles, so it never hurt to keep a pack stashed away. While in her inventory, she also withdrew two cans of grape pop, one of which she handed over to Jomei.

She plopped down beside Jomei, stretching her legs out in front of her, and crossing them at the ankles. Then she popped the tab on her drink, and downed it like a woman well-practiced in chugging grape pop. After setting the can aside, Lessa leaned back on her hands, dropped her head back, and followed Jomei's gaze. "I miss real stars," she told him after a moment. "I mean, we have floors that come close. But there's something about knowing there's just one more floor up there that kind of sucks the beauty out of it. In the real world, I could look at the sky and wonder what was up there, beyond what I could see." The blonde pursed her lips, then added, "Though I guess that's still the case here, given we have no idea what's on the next floor."

Lessa paused to slant a glance toward her friend. "Do you think you'll be up there on the Frontlines when they go for it?"

꧁༺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 LD: 3 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) Skills: Straight Sword R5 Heavy Armor R5 Battle Healing R5 Energist Fighting Spirit Charge Active Mods: Impetus Emergency Recovery Justified Riposte Addons: Iron Skin Ferocity Stamina Active Extra Skills: Parry Survival Battle Ready Inventory: Teleportation Crystal x5 Mass HP Recovery Crystal x2 Sweet and Sour Licorice Bites | Tierless Perfect Snack | Loot Die 3 x 3 ([223577c] [223577d] [223577e]) Housing Buffs: Well Rested: -1 energy cost for the first three expenditures of each combat Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down) Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts. Col Stash: +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests Advanced Training: +10% Exp to a thread. Limit one use per month [1/1] Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll Guild Hall Buffs: Helping Hand: Lowest-leveled guild member receives +10 bonus Exp at the end of the thread. At least half of the thread's participants must be guild members. Limit one use per month, per character. [1/1]

Lessa didn't notice the door open, or the woman who let herself inside. She didn't notice the stench of grease that hung in the air thicker than Axe Phoenix in a middle school hallway. She didn't notice the way the lights reflected off the freshly painted baby-blue walls, or gleamed along the polished tiles, and how strange the concept of a "polished burger joint" was. Odds were likely that a nuclear bomb could have been dropped on the booth next to hers, and Lessa would not have noticed.

Why?

Because she was eating a motherfucking olive burger.

Over a borderline orgasmic groan, Lessa finally registered the appearance of another Player. Caught up in a mayonnaise-flavored haze, the young woman struggled to focus on the fellow blonde who had engaged the jolly restaurant owner in conversation. Or, at least, he'd been jolly a few moments earlier. He'd lit up when she'd requested the particular burger, rather than laughing her out of the shop the way every other cook had. The challenge had invigorated the man, and boy, had he delivered. He'd presented the Michigan girl with her Michigan burger, something she had only dreamed of for going on a decade. It wasn't quite clearing the 100th floor and escaping Aincrad, but it came damn close. And she had Cal, of Cal's Burgers, to thank. She would never be able to make it up to him. She would cherish it, and him, forever. She would sing his praises. Maybe she'd start a cult in his honor. Or a religion. 

And this other Player was making Olive Burger Jesus upset.

Unacceptable.

Lessa swallowed her mouthful of beef and green olive, straightened in her chair, and finally gave the newcomer her full attention. Eavesdropping was rude, but so was upsetting Cal, her lord and savior. Necessary evils, and all that. But only a moment after Lessa tuned in, Cal gave a sharp bark of laughter, and the tension flowed from Lessa's body. There, a small voice in the back of her mind reassured her. Nothing to worry about. Everything is-

OLIVE BURGER, the rest of her brain said, and she obliged. Dragging the plate closer (possibly so she could simply shovel the burger into her mouth), she was startled when the Player actually spoke to her.

"Oh, hey, yeah," Lessa stammered brilliantly. Without a thought, she lifted her hand to her mouth, and dragged the back of it across her mayo-stained lips. "I was there, but I think you may have me mixed up with someone else. I'm just a DPSer. No tank, and no shield, though I think that's an awesome look." Lessa considered extending her hand for a shake, then remembered, and thought better of it. "My name is Lessa."

At his words, Lessa's face lit with a broad smile. She tore off a corner of a lemon square, popped it into her mouth, then said, "That, I can answer. For the apples, at least. I've spent an embarrassing amount of time scoping out the best apple orchards in Aincrad. I've picked out my favorites, and I make it a habit to fill up my inventory and bring them back here every week or so. It's therapeutic, honestly. Makes me feel like I'm contributing somehow, even if it's just to help Alexander and his family out." She once again pivoted atop her stool, leaning her elbows back on the bartop as she stared out across the White Rabbit. She took in the crackling fireplace, and the comforting light and warmth it flung across the space. She took in the gentle murmur of conversation, such a nice change from the rowdy taverns found elsewhere in the floating castle. And she watched the snow fall outside the foggy glass window, great fat flakes that never ceased to remind her of Michigan.

She sighed, and then suddenly, she was speaking. "I spend a lot of time here," she heard herself tell Raidou. "Eat a ton of my meals here. Drink all their cider." A beat of silence, and then, "I spend the night here when my house feels too empty. And they've never expected anything from me. Alexander, Margaret, and Wren are the closest thing I have to family in Aincrad."

Alexander, who had moved down the bar to help a customer, still managed to toss her quick glance that said as much as their familiar banter did - you have a place here. Lessa swallowed back a soft laugh. "Yeah, we're definitely bad for business."

She shifted to look over her shoulder at Raidou. "You've shared plenty with me," she stated conversationally, her gaze tracking his expression. Her intention wasn't to prove the man wrong, or come off as argumentative, but she found his claim interesting. Besides, why not shift the focus back to him? It saved her from more internal reflection. "And you haven't hidden in a single barrel since we started talking. We've been going at it for a while now, and there are a lot of barrels in this place."

"Definitely humbled," Lessa confirmed, warmth and color rising in her cheeks as Jomei brushed his fingers along her hair. When he drew them back, and showed her the beetle, a strained little laugh gurgled out of her. She ducked her head, raking her fingers through her blonde mop in an attempt to rid it of any lingering insects. If it bought her an extra moment to slow her heart, and hopefully get her face back to a more natural color, that was just an added bonus.

Flipping back her hair, Lessa shoved it away from her face before she peered over Jomei's shoulder. She studied the quest details as well, and after he asked his question, she hesitated with her answer. "I know this sounds dumb," she began slowly, "but would it be okay if we just camped out here?" She hooked her thumbs under her crisscrossed belts, then peered out over their surroundings. After so much time on the 27th floor, her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. Still, the areas just out of reach of the crystals's viridescent light seemed unnaturally dark, and she might have sworn something moved among the tree trunks. Had the Guardian followed them, even at the cost of leaving its grove unprotected?

Despite the chill that climbed her spine, Lessa doubled down on her decision. "Food sounds nice, but I think I'd feel weird going to a bar to hang out while NPCs in both Dagan and Srona are injured." Before Jomei could speak, she held up a placating hand. "Dumb, I know," she repeated. "There's nothing stopping us from going home and picking the quest up again in a year. But it just... doesn't sit well with me."

When Lessa crossed her arms against her chest, it was just as much an attempt at self-comfort as it was a show of defiance. "If it's cool with you," she concluded, "I thought maybe we could make a camp fire? I have some pops in my inventory. We could just rest for a minute before going again."

Their blades slid apart, and Lessa's gaze shifted to her opponent's face. Despite the lighthearted conversation, NIGHT performed with the same strength and precision that Lessa might have expected from a serious duel. It was an odd juxtaposition, the small talk that played between them as they clashed once more. It wasn't altogether uncomfortable, but it was far from familiar. That's not a bad thing, a small voice mused. Foreign didn't necessarily mean bad. Something something comfort zones, something something, personal growth, right? She'd have sworn that her doctor's office had a poster along those lines in its waiting room.

Leaning into that thought, the blonde feigned another frontal attack. At the last second, she dipped her left shoulder, and rolled her entire body in the same direction. Much like a boxer avoiding a punch, she dodged NIGHT's sword, and pressed her own gently against the woman's thigh. A hard exhalation was as close as she came to a victory cry before she shifted back into a ready stance. The fighting came more easily - perhaps the conversation could as well.

"Games like these," Lessa echoed, giving a ruefully shake of her head. "Man, I used to be such a gamer. Mostly first-person shooters. I guess I can be grateful I didn't end up in Call of Duty Online or something. That would be horrible. But I'd probably be better at it, all things considered."

Remembering NIGHT's last point, Lessa hummed thoughtfully. "I figure we will," she answered, "given enough time in here. Or maybe we'll find a movie theater floor. I could go for that."

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