Lessa

At his reference to Lessa's new friend, she couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, I'd hate to let her down," she stated. "I'm entirely certain that woman could crush my skull with her thighs if I displeased her. Not saying it would be a bad way to go, but I'd rather not."

Perhaps sensing that his prey's mind was elsewhere, the third and final hellhound gave a hellish growl, his maw twisted into a gruesome snarl. Had she not just seen his two companions go down so easily, Lessa might have found the visual for more frightening. When the creature hunkered down and prepared to strike, she did the same. And as it sprang forward, claws shimmering in the bright sunlight, Lessa met it mid-air. Her sword pulsed once, a brilliant, blinding gold, before it slashed across the hellhound's side. 

Or, at least, that's what she thought would happen. 

The hound managed to get a foot between her blade and her body, and as it extended to its full length, it shoved the blade away. Claws like daggers skittered harmlessly against Lessa's heavy breastplate, but her gaze instinctively flicked to her health bar. Barely a sliver gone. Still not a comfy feeling, knowing something so low level could get past her that way.

"I swear," she began, rolling her shoulders, "I was just about to comment on how much easier these guys are to kill. And I managed to miss one." She blew out a hard breath, lips vibrating like a horse's, before she turned to Jomei. "You good finishing that asshole off?"

Lessa: 820/820 HP | 100/114 EN | 23 DMG | 112 MIT | 2 ACC | 41 BH | 8 HM | 8 HLY | 8 REC | 72 THRNS
Jomei:  820/820 HP | 110/120 EN | 23 DMG | 44 MIT | 4 ACC | 3 EVA | 41 BH | 16 HLY B | 48 BLD | 8 FLN | 

Lessa uses ST-I | 203945 BD: 1 | MISS -2 EN

Hellhound A: 200/200 HP | 50 DMG
Hellhound B: 200/200 HP | 50 DMG
Hellhound C: 200/200 HP | 50 DMG | 203944 MD: 8 HIT | 50-112 = 1 DMG

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 47 HP: 800/800 EN: 118/118 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 44 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) 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 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]

Before the Fight

"Lovely match."

Lessa, who had been reaching for the ladle at the time, nearly plunged her hand into the bowl of strawberry punch. She jerked back, slapping her palm over her heart before turning to the fellow blonde. "Hey Snow," she greeted when she caught her breath. "Sorry, sorry. You just startled me." After a few seconds, Snow's second question registered. In response, Lessa loosed a quick laugh and shook her head. "Totally coincidence, though I'm not surprised at all to see him here. He's got a real hard on for duels. I figure he'd challenge anyone to just about any kind of competition, just for the thrill of it. I, on the other hand..." She paused to motion to the glorious spread of drinks and food. "... Well, I'm here for the snacks. I was fortunate to have been paired up with a relative beginner for my first round. Morgenstern's going to be a lot tougher opponent. I don't know him too well, but I-"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but I couldn't help but overhear." This time, it was the use of the word 'ma'am' that had Lessa flinching. Another Player, a young man a few inches shorter than Lessa, stared up at her apprehensively. "You're Lessa, right? I saw your fight."

The disapproval faded immediately, replaced by a sort of amused pleasure. "Yeah, I am! What'd you think of the fight."

"Eh," came his answer, along with a small shrug. "It wasn't my favorite."

Oh.

"The reason I ask is because you said you were supposed to fight Morgenstern, but you're not. Anymore, I mean." He paused to flutter a small piece of paper through the air. "I love duels, and following the fighters, so I keep track of everything. They just changed the bracket up, and you're fighting someone else."

"Oh yeah?" She made no effort to hide the bitterness, more preoccupied with his comment than her next opponent.

"Well, uh, yeah. Now you're fighting, uh..." He referred to his notes. "Alkor."

The world seemed to open up beneath her and swallow her whole.

"Okay, thanks," she said dumbly. Then, to Snow, she added, "I'm going to go get ready. Bye."

Colors and sounds merged around her, blurry like light through a rain-covered window. She might have wandered like that, wide-eyed and breathless, until the moment the fight began, if Jomei hadn't caught her first. His face swam into view, becoming clearer as she finally focused on him. Was he talking to her? His lips were moving, shifting around that warm, contagious smile. But this time, she struggled to bring the joyful expression to her own face. "Thanks," she mumbled, trying, and failing, to shove pleasantness into the single word. Then, she heard herself saying, "I have to fight Alkor next."

@Snow @Jomei

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 47 HP: 800/800 EN: 118/118 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 44 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) 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 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]

Like a man emerging from a trance, Alkor blinked owlishly against the bright sunlight. Lessa waited patiently as he scrubbed his face, allowing him the time to process her question. In truth, she expected the man to dismiss it, and her, altogether. He'd just lost a duel without scoring a single point, and the conversation throughout had been far from pleasant. Her final question, inappropriate in both its timing and personal nature, had likely broken the proverbial camel's back. Surprise registered clearly on Lessa's face as the man she had considered the Fort Knox of emotions began to speak.

Do I have to change?, he asked her, and the simple question cut like a blade through her heart. It might be best if you did, came her knee-jerk response, but Lessa silenced that line of thinking. In fact, she blocked out every other sound, color, and flurry of movement in the dojo. She saw only his face, and the picture his words slowly painted her. A lifetime of competition, orchestrated by his parents. Those who were responsible for forging him, shaping him into the man he would become. The result was a sleek, sharp, deadly blade with a stress crack straight down its center.

How could they do that to him? How could those closest to him make such a demand? How could they expect him to become someone he's not, simply to fit their own image of what he should be. What would make them more comfortable.

Guilt slammed through her with so much force that it tore the breath from her lungs.

"Alkor," she began slowly, his name falling strangely from her dry mouth and chapped lips. "Would you mind if we took a walk? Just get out of here for a while." At his agreement, Lessa turned her back on the other duels, the fighters, the spectators. While she felt their gazes on her retreating frame, likely waiting to celebrate her victory, she found she didn't have the energy for any of it. She felt rung out, exhausted, and more than a little nauseous. Alkor likely felt even worse.

Lessa didn't turn, but she sensed him beside her as they left the tidy dojo, and emerged into the sun-warmed, flower-scented air. She found she couldn't look at him. How selfish of her, to focus on her own misfortunes after Alkor had finally, finally, confided in her? Making it about herself, and all the ways that she had wronged him, would likely earn her a Worst Friend of the Year award. But would locking those feelings away do us any favors, either? 

Find a balance.

That was one thing she and Alkor had never seemed to be able to do.

"No, you don't have to change."

Finally, atop the pretty bridge that connected two little islands, she turned to him. "If this is a part of who you are, and a part you're content with, then no one should ask you to change. Least of all, me." She had hoped to formulate a response on their walk, but found the words simply would not come. So Lessa did what she had a tendency to do anyway - she spoke directly from the heart. "There's a lot that I need to learn, too. How to better protect my heart, for one. How to ground myself when I feel like I'm drifting. How to cook." The smile that quirked her lips fell away as quickly as it came. "Maybe the most important thing I need to learn, at least where you're concerned, is what you need."

"I don't understand you," she stated, then lifted a cautionary hand. "I don't mean that as an insult or anything. What I mean is that I don't know how your mind works. You've always been a mystery to me, but I always attributed that to some elusive, mysterious persona. Like you had locked your heart away in some castle, and all I had to do was bust down those walls to really know you. To learn your secrets." Though she had meant to keep her emotions in check, pain twisted her face, and regret swam in her wide eyes. "I romanticized it, of course. I thought I could be your shining light, or your savior, or some other bullshit. The truth is, maybe I saw you as some sort of conquest. I think that's why it hurt so bad when you left. I thought I'd lost. I thought she'd beat me to you. That she'd succeeded where I'd failed."

As if coming to her senses, Lessa drove the heels of her hands into her eyes. "I don't mean to make this about myself, or bring any of that back up again, especially after everything you told me. And I'm not trying to be all 'Chivalrous Lessa' and take the blame to make you feel better. I just want you to know, need you to know, that I can't stand here and criticize those people who tried to make you something you weren't. Because I was one of them."

It appeared that the sense of foreboding settled on both Freyd and Lessa at the same time. Even as the dark-haired man cautioned Levi, Lessa drew away from Baldur and along-side the NPC. Her hand came to rest on Arcael's Might's ornate hilt, and for the moment, all thought of the punishing cold left her. Even as the biting wind tugged at her loose hair, and sent snowflakes spinning like throwing stars, she remained on high alert. "I've got him," she reassured Freyd, her voice a mere murmur. Her intention wasn't to baby Levi, but rather put Freyd's mind at ease, so he might be more willing to continue with the quest. Her unspoken message, it seemed, had been received loud and clear. As the Player shifted into the shadows, swept up by the swirling snow, Lessa cut a glance toward Baldur. "Do you have any idea what we're looking at here?" she asked. "It's hard to see because of all the snow, and-" Her voice trailed as her gaze shifted, then came to rest on a lump in the snow. 

Despite the unforgiving cold, it was the sight of the corpse that her froze the blood in her veins.

"Baldur," she sputtered, "is that a body?"

For someone who prided herself on reading the room, Lessa could not have made a more egregious error. Moving with impossible speed, Levi threw himself away from the two Players. "A body?" He echoed, voice shrill with terror. "Dorion? No, it can't be. Dorion!" His cry carried across the frozen wasteland, and before Lessa could grab him, the boy was racing across the snow.

"Damn it," Lessa hissed, before taking chase. Louder, she added, "Levi, you need to stop. We don't know what we're-"

When the scout turned to face them, Lessa's own terror mirrored Levi's.

The boy lifted his slingshot, took aim, and sent a pebble winging toward the mob's head. In slow motion, Lessa watched it connect, and draw the scout's attention. He'll kill Levi, came her only thought before, in a flash of light, Lessa triggered howl.

Lessa wasn't sure that she believed in fate. But when Alkor's pivot took a second too long, and he exposed his back to her, she knew what she was meant to do. A sick sense of humor, she mused, even as she slid up behind him. Her body brushed along his, a featherlight touch that ended with her sword pressed to his spine. The pressure lasted only a heartbeat, before it, and she, disappeared. Withdrawing to her side of the mat, Lessa lapsed into silence. In a perhaps poetic parallel, their second fight had ended in much the same way as the first - quiet contemplation rather than whoops of joy. Only this time, it was Lessa who stood victorious.

Victorious in what way? The tournament she had desperately wanted to win suddenly seemed so trivial. Her mind did not jump to brackets, or strategizing for the upcoming fight. It, like her gaze, remained fixed on Alkor. In a matter of minutes, the man had revealed more about himself than she could have ever asked. And in that same amount time, Lessa came to understand how problematic asking him for those revelations really was. He would open up to her on his own time. Or he wouldn't. But Alkor's well-being did not indicate how well she played her role as a friend. His level of happiness did not determine hers.

Alkor was not a tool for Lessa to gauge her own worth.

And by believing that for so many years, she had hurt them both.

"Thank you for allowing me this rematch," she said suddenly. "It's been a long time coming. I- well, I appreciate the opportunity to redeem myself."

She should have left it at that. After the many leaves they had turned, and the burdens they had finally shed, Lessa and Alkor both deserved a moment of peace. She should have given it to them.

Instead, she asked, "But will you tell me one thing?"

"Will you tell me what you're fighting for? Not just 'to win in duels' or 'to beat the game' - but what's at the heart of it. For as long as I've known you, you've been consumed by this endless need to be the best. Is there a place where you'll ever be satisfied? Where you can just acknowledge how far you've come? Because you are so, so much stronger than the Alkor I met in the Town of Beginnings, but in so many ways, you haven't changed at all. What will happen when you run out of people to compare yourself to?"

Lessa: 3/3

Alkor 0/3

A lifetime ago, before duels, before Aincrad, before Alkor, Alyssa had spent a Tuesday morning in her childhood development class. The topic had been student anxiety, and the discussion had centered on something called ironic process theory. In essence, a person is more likely to think about something if expressly told not to. For example, telling a class not to worry about an upcoming test might, instead, trigger the opposite effect. "It's always better to get things out in the open," Professor Schab had explained. "Just talk through them. Address them. Don't lock them away, or convince yourself you can just move on. And don't expect your students to, either. Because it's impossible not to think about a polar bear when you've been told not to think about a polar bear."

Don't think about the polar bear.

Don't think about the polar bear.

Don't think about saving Alkor.

It was all she could think about. 

Years of regret had followed the day she thought she had lost him forever. In self-induced exile, she had played back every interaction they had had. Where had it all gone wrong? Why had Alkor chosen Mari over her? What had she done wrong? She had tried so hard to soothe, to heal, to put those broken pieces together again. Despite her best efforts, he had left her. It took a very long time for Lessa to understand he abandoned her not despite those efforts, but because of them. So hell-bent on fixing the man, she had never stopped to consider whether he saw himself as broken. Or if he did, whether he wanted to be fixed. Whether he wanted her to do the fixing. And while it had been one of the most difficult lessons of her lifetime, Lessa had pledged to do better by him.

In that moment, she teetered on the edge of throwing it all away again. Something had snapped within him, so evident in the way that his body trembled. Something she might be able to fix, if only he would open up to her. She could get him to, with a little coaxing. She was so good at that, right? Getting people to open up? Without conscious thought, her hand reached for him.

"Just leave me alone! I knew which way to go before this."

On a distant memory, Alkor's sobs returned to her.

"Every part of me tells me you're the one thing between me and that freedom, Lessa. You."

She drew her hand back. Then she drew up to her full height. 

"Alright."

"I want to be free," he had told her, so, so long ago. "But if I have to lose you to do that, I can't. I can't make that decision."

But I can.

Though the bokken did not require two hands, Lessa adopted the familiar Claymore grip. And though it would not react to sword arts, she envisioned herself driving power into the weapon as she approached her enemy.

I can free you, by simply removing myself as an obstacle.

Her loose hair tumbled into her face, partially obscuring the stone mask she had donned. Donned for him. Because he didn't need fixing. He didn't need her softness. He needed her strength. And she would give that to him, because she loved all those broken pieces. With more ferocity than she had ever shown a floor boss, she slashed at her best friend.

Lessa: 2/3

Alkor: 0/3

Tie

The instant Alkor lashed out at her, the smile fell from Lessa's face. "Jesus," she breathed, concern carving trenches across her forehead. Gone was the cocky playfulness, and the taunts she had prepped to throw him off his game. Either her first slap had worked better than intended, or Alkor had never been on his game to begin with. The latter worried her immensely. For a man who had prided himself on perfection, he swung with all the precision of a drunk frat boy. She had thought she would feel jubilation landing the first hit, but none came. Instead, horror slammed into her as Alkor plowed his own fist into his face, and howled at a decibel entirely out of place in such a tranquil dojo. 

Lessa dropped her weapon, and as it bounced soundlessly against the mat, she rounded on him. "What the fuck, Alkor?" she snapped back, though fear twined with anger in each word. Her own cheeks flushed, though not nearly the same dark crimson as his. "It was a joke. If you can't handle a joke, about Mari of all things, what are we even doing here?"

The words were out before her mind could catch up, and only seconds after did realization dawn. Why would he have punched himself if he were angry with her? That was the action of a petulant child, not the cold, calculated soldier she had come to know. In fact, nothing she had seen so far bore any resemblance to the man she called a friend, or the first battle he had fought against Koga. This was altogether different. A melt down. A let down. He's mad at himself, not me.

Though the understanding worked to quell the immediate rage, the unease remained. Alkor had always been a mystery to her, as distant and incomprehensible as far-off galaxies. She had never, and would never, succeed in predicting his actions. But this Alkor? So filled with fury, and fueled by some insatiable need? A different beast entirely.

She wasn't facing a lion.

She was facing a caged lion.

As he stood there panting, beads of sweat prickling across his forehead, she tried to catch his gaze again. Maybe, just this once, she could see into that impenetrable mind of his. All she found was a reflection of herself in wide, unfocused eyes. He didn't even see her.

This isn't about me at all.

"Your point," he mumbled, and she gave a curt nod. 

"If you need us to stop," she told him in a voice just above a whisper, "you need to tell me. Do you understand?" Then she stooped down, retrieved her sword, and squared off once more. But if the fight is what you need, I'll give you that, too. All I've ever wanted to do was give you what you needed.

Despite her overwhelming instinct to do so, she did not hesitate as she drove the sword into him once more.

Alkor: 0/3

Lessa: 2/3

"No moral qualms to be hashed," she replied simply, lifting a gauntleted hand as if to flick away even the notion. Her expression, as cold as the ice in her eyes, didn't even register Oscar's little sunglasses trick. "I'm just here to get the kids. If you two didn't take them, then we can work together to get them back. Their safety is my number one priority, and ranks way above whatever bad blood exists between Oscar and my ex-boyfriend." She moved past them in a swirl of blue fabric, her cape skimming her heels as she strode toward the door.

She had nearly made it to the teleportation plaza before she spoke again. "I'm going to grab a horse," she called over her shoulder, not bother to check if the pair trailed her or not. "It'll be a lot faster. If either of you don't feel comfortable riding, you can ride with me. If you both don't feel comfortable riding..."

Pausing, the woman climbed the steps to the teleport gate, and demanded, "Lhasri!" When she rematerialized, the startling change in air temperature took her breath away. Composing herself quickly, she continued her earlier statement the moment Freyd and Oscar joined her. "... then we'll have to take a cart. I'd prefer we ride, as it'll be faster, and easier to navigate the mountain passes." She was already moving again, gaze scanning the city streets for familiar features. "I've ridden on this floor before, but not on the glaciers themselves, because that would be suicide." Her lips drew into a thin, tight line as she spotted the western entrance, and slipped into a jog. "I'll risk it if it saves us some time. But we'll need to be careful."

Lessa only glanced back at her companions as they approached the stable. Sturdy horses with shaggy winter coats milled about in a small pasture, while a handful stood tacked and at the ready. "So what'll it be? Ride, or cart?"

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 47 HP: 800/800 EN: 118/118 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 44 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) 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 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 wasn’t sure if she believed in fate. There was certainly a kind of comfort in the concept, and the idea that some actions were simply out of her hands. Plus, weren’t the fated events generally good things? Fate brought people together, and uncovered ancient secrets, and exposed beautiful places. Fate might help someone secure a job of their dreams, or a fortune, simply because they were in the right place at the right time. Stories didn’t tend to feature individuals fated to die, or contract an illness, or lose their property. No, fate was romantic, and beautiful, and inspiring; poets, musicians, authors, and artists all considered it the perfect muse. Of course, believing in fate did have its drawbacks. Sometimes, the relationships that fate had so carefully planted and tended to simply withered and died, and that opened a whole new can of worms. Were we fated to break up, or did we mess up somewhere along the line? Did fate give up on us? Does fate even work that way? No, Lessa wasn’t sure if she believed in fate. But whatever it was that controlled the cosmos had a pretty sick sense of humor.

Gazing across the mat, the Guardian regarded her opponent with silent curiosity. He had changed since they had last faced off. His inky black hair had brightened to blonde, a shade nearly identical to her own, and the traditional uniform was a far cry from his long, edge-lord coat. Even more significant, she knew, were the changes that she couldn’t see. The years had transformed them both, like rocks shaped by the pounding of relentless waves. But the desire for victory remained unchanged. It was a duel, after all. And damn it if a small part of her didn't want that sweet redemption.

“Here we are again,” she stated, voice bereft of emotion as it shattered the silence between them. Fights raged all around, the crack of wooden swords like gunfire on Baldur’s pretty battlefield. Lessa had eyes only for Alkor. Finally, a slow smile drifted like smoke across her lips. “This time, there’s a date on the line. It’s a shame you won’t be able to treat that perky little Astreya to dinner.”

As she spoke, Lessa slowly slid her right foot back, settling into a combat stance with the easy grace of a dancer. Her lake blue eyes, as intense as twin fires, caught and held his. Energy seemed to sizzle like electricity, sparking between the pair, and raising goosebumps along her bare arms. Her entire body hummed, taut as a bow string, though casual observers would see only calm. I’ve gotten better at controlling my emotions, and that’s only the beginning.

She led with the comment,

“But I thought you only dated girls with pink hair."

And followed up with the fight’s first attack.
 

Lessa shook her head, blew out a hard breath, then rolled her shoulders. "Nope," she answered him. "I can do this. I'm ready. Focused. In the zone." With both hands, she mimicked the tunnel vision gesture she had made in his apartment. This time, however, it had a completely different meaning.

Her gaze shifted away from her companion, and she gazed up at the volcano that loomed overhead. "Looking up," she murmured, the sound barely audible over the clash of steel and roar of a distant enemy. He had promised her that things would look up, if only she let them. Let them? Had she been sabotaging herself all along? The months spent in Manderley, reading over old messages, and obsessively checking for new ones? She had grown addicted not to any substance, but to the memories of a time that had long since passed. Clinging like a drowning man to a quickly disintegrating chunk of ice wasn't doing her any favors.

Stepping up to Jomei, she hooked her arm through his, and gave it a gentle tug. She took her first real step toward the Inferno Cavern, and out of the hole she had dug for herself. "Let's go get a piece of the action, before whoever's there now clears everything out. Waiting for a boss to respawn is never fun."

Fortunately for the pair of them, the cave's guardians shimmered into existence the moment they approached. In fact, they had to leap apart to avoid the hellhounds spawning on top of them. "Crap," Lessa spat, dragging her sword from it's sheath. "I hate it when they do that."

Though she easily packed the firepower to dispense of all three hounds at once, Lessa opted instead to lash out at the closest one. No point in rushing the experience, right?

Lessa: 820/820 HP | 101/114 EN | 23 DMG | 112 MIT | 2 ACC | 41 BH | 8 HM | 8 HLY | 8 REC | 72 THRNS

Lessa attacks Hellhound A > [x12] ST-I (12 EN) > [x15] ST-I (14 EN) (ST Specialist) > [x15] ST-I (13 EN) (Well-Rested)
114-13 = 101 EN
203788 | BD: 8 - HIT
23*15= 345

Hellhound A: 200/200 HP | 50 DMG
Hellhound B: 200/200 HP | 50 DMG
Hellhound C: 200/200 HP | 50 DMG

"And, honestly, if no guy can give that to you.. then I don't think any guy deserves you."

Excuses and explanations leapt to Lessa's lips, the need to defend him coming as a knee-jerk reaction. "Yeah, but I-" 

"If I may speak freely?"

Her mouth snapped shut, and a bit numbly, she nodded her confirmation. Of course, it didn't seem Jomei needed the go-ahead. He plunged into a rousing speech, those expressive emerald eyes alive with passion as they caught and held hers. Even as he lit a fire within her, she felt herself shiver beneath the intensity in his gaze. Even as he filled her head with words, darting like fish in an over-stocked tank, she realized she had nothing to say to him. When Jomei stopped suddenly, she drew up only a hair's breadth away from him. So many years had been spent as a larger-than-life figure in Aincrad - a person who could always be looked up to. Yet in that moment, the nine inches between them might have been a mile. He seemed to tower over her, bathing her in shadow, and making her feel remarkably small. Surprisingly, Lessa found solace in more than just the cool shade. There was something comforting in knowing, if only for a minute, she could be the small one. She could let him be the voice of reason. She could let him be strong. She could let herself be vulnerable.

Gauntleted hands rose to hide her face, and finally, the tears came. Like rain down a windowpane, they streaked across her flushed cheeks, then slipped away to leave tiny spots on the hard-packed earth. Her shoulders hunched, and though they rocked with each sob, Lessa made no sound. Distantly, she marveled at how good it felt to finally let go. And how few tears she actually had left to shed.

"I'm okay," she breathed after only a moment. Shifting, she snatched up the end of her blue cape, and used it to swipe at her damp face. Her red-rimmed eyes still swam with tears, but when she smiled at him, her relief was evident. "Yeah, I'm good. I just- needed a sec. To get it out. I didn't realize how much I needed to."

"And I didn't realize how much I needed to hear someone say all that."

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa, The Violet Guardian Level: 31 Paragon Level: 47 HP: 800/800 EN: 118/118 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 44 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) Custom Skill: Skills: Straight Sword R5 Heavy Armor R5 Battle Healing R5 Energist Fighting Spirit Charge Active Mods: Impetus Emergency Recovery Justified Riposte Inactive Mods: Addons: Iron Skin Ferocity Stamina Active Extra Skills: Parry Survival Inactive Extra Skills: Battle Ready Inventory: Teleportation Crystal x5 Mass HP Recovery Crystal x2 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] Scents of the Wild: Wedding Ring:

"Right over left, or left over right?"

Lessa stared at her reflection in the mirror, each hand gripping a panel of her floral Kimono. A pained expression stained her face, still faintly flushed from her earlier duel. Perhaps the woman should be feeling a little more celebratory after a victory. Or, at the very least, already socializing with the other patrons in Baldur's immaculate home. Instead, she had hidden away in a distant corridor, exposed to potential passerbys as she stood before the ornate mirror. Well not exposed exposed. In preparation for her visit to Baldur's estate, Lessa had spent hours conducting research on Japanese etiquette. She had even had a tailor crafter her a juban to wear beneath her kimono. Not that Baldur would be worried about her undergarments (right?), but she would feel better knowing she was being as respectful as possible. Except the underwear. She drew the line at going commando in a room full of people.

Gritting her teeth, Lessa shifted the fabric, alternating one side over the other. "One is correct," she muttered, "and one is a serious insult. One is for living people, and one is for dead people. Right over left? Left over right? Left over ri-" Like the sun emerging from the clouds, Lessa's entire face brightened. "Leftover rice!" That was what the tailor had told her. A handy way to remember the panels is leftover rice, or left over right.

Brimming with new-found assuredness, Lessa draped herself correctly in the light blue silk. It was a full ten minutes before she managed to secure the accessories, and despite her best efforts, the entire getup was slightly askew. But she had done her damnedest, and if a crooked kimono was a ticket to Hell, she was likely bound for the fiery pits anyway.

Tucking a comb into her slightly-sweat-slicked hair, Lessa rolled her shoulders, drew a deep breath, and made her way into the heart of the party.

Most of the competitors still wore their dueling gear, and while she had expected this, it drove her anxiety through the roof. Suddenly feeling like she stood beneath a spotlight, she shuffled her way toward the refreshment table. Impress Baldur, she thought to herself, but run the risk of looking like an idiot. Or not even run the risk - just look like an idiot. Impress Baldur with your idiotiness. Idiotism. Idiocy? Not ideocracy, that's a government...

A small bolt of electricity shot through Lessa as Jomei spoke Bahr's name. She wondered when that sensation would go away. She worried that it never would.

"It's fine," she answered him, though her tone suggested that was far from the truth. Even her body language betrayed the discomfort she felt as her shoulders hunched, and all trace of light left her eyes. The woman seemed to draw inward, collapsing in on herself. A long moment passed before she blew out a breath, then sucked in another. "Honestly, Jomei?" she began, in a voice that sounded a bit robotic even to her own ears, "I couldn't tell you. Not because I don't want to, but because I just don't know." 

Her gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, and though she skirted fallen rocks and deep holes, it was evident in the jerky motions that her mind had, again, traveled elsewhere. "It isn't like he went anywhere," she stated suddenly. "He didn't leave. I know where he is. It's just that he's not... here. If that makes sense." She lifted both hands, but realizing she had nothing to do with them, let them fall again. "I could message him. I could show up at his house, or his shop, or where he likes to train. And I have. But even when I do, he's just... not there. He's somewhere else. It's like he's constantly distracted, and even when I'm right in front of him, he's focused on other things." If she realized the irony of the situation, and the fact she did the same thing in that moment, she never showed it. Instead, she swallowed hard, then continued. "After a while, the shift starts to get to you, you know? Like you're just nagging them, and they're only talking to you out of some weird sense of obligation." Lessa winced as the words left her lips, as if hearing them spoken aloud caused her physical pain. "A part of it's probably my own mind leaping to worst case scenarios. Maybe even a big part of it is. But when you can't reach them anymore, and you can't find that spark, and you start using the 'good times' to justify holding on any longer..."

Her voice trailed, and for a while, the pair simply walked in silence. When she finally spoke again, Lessa seemed a bit steadier. "I know better than to make my entire life about someone else. I did that with Alkor, and it hurt us both in the end. I've learned my lesson. I wonder if that's why this caught me so off-guard. I told myself 'it's not a repeat of Alkor, so it's okay.' That it was healthy, and sustainable, and-" She choked out a harsh laugh. "Fate, even." Pausing to mull it over, Lessa amended, "Maybe it still was fate. I think he came into my life when I needed him to, and I'm grateful for that. But I figured it would last, because it just felt right. It was perfect. And then it just... wasn't. It wasn't anything." 

"He just slipped away from me." This time, when she lifted both her hands, she stared dumbly at them. "Right through my fingers. Even as I held on as tightly as I dared to." Her hands clenched into fists. "I don't think he did it on purpose, but god, it hurts like he did. It hurts like withdrawals from a drug I didn't even know I was taking. It just... fucking sucks."

"Alkor, hey."

Her voice seemed to boom in the relative quiet of the city. Though NPCs milled about, and the steady rumble of dozens of waterfalls filled the air, Lessa felt she'd called out in the middle of a movie theatre. A few women slanted her quick glances, confusion or even annoyance plastered across their faces. A sudden need to apologize slammed into her, but Lessa resisted as she walked toward her friend. Falling into step beside him, the pair crossed one of the many wooden bridges leading out of Krycim. Slowly, gazes boring into their backs lessened, until she felt nothing at all. A sideway glance at Alkor had her wondering how the stares affected him, if at all. Or if he hardly noticed the additional pounds on the weight he seemed to carry everywhere.

Had she ever seen the man just unwind? Laugh a little? Smile in a way that actually reached those star-dust eyes? Questions she found herself asking nearly every time they met up. Even before the floor boss fight that had changed everything, she'd worried for his mental well-being. She still worried, of course. The only difference was, this time, she didn't feel obligated to repair whatever did (or didn't) need fixing. There was an odd power in that, but she still felt a small tug on her heart as she studied him.

"Thanks for agreeing to come out," she said, her voice coming so suddenly it startled a colorful bird from its perch in a nearby tree. "I've been looking for an excuse to get out of the house."

The attacks came in a flurry, each pulled only a split second before they struck her. Fake outs, Lessa mused, impressed with the woman's ingenuity. Recognizing that speed alone couldn't save her, Yona already changed tactics. She's a quick study.

And when the fourth strike plowed into Lessa's unprotected midsection, the blonde gave a small, approving nod. "Good hit," she said again, shifting her own stance before settling into the ready position. Yona was a dangerous one, a bit like a snake in the grass, unpredictable and explosive. Lessa knew her way around unpredictability. She could figure this out. She just had to take a moment to really assess the situation, and get a handle on this woman she'd never met before. Hell, this woman she had never even heard of before.

Then a slow, lazy smile unfurled. "You're not bad," she commented, "for a beginner."

Perhaps Yona's temper was as explosive as her movements.

Only seconds after delivering the statement, Lessa lashed out with her weapon.

Yona: 2/3

Lessa: 2/3

A wicked grin sliced across Lessa's face, and a long-buried part of her began to stir. "Trash talk," she observed. "Feels a little out of place in a dojo like this, but I can still appreciate it."

As the brunette lunged, Lessa shifted onto the balls of her feet. While it was true that the heavily-armored Lessa didn't spend much time flitting about, she knew enough to recognize her weakness. Surely, the other woman would attempt to use speed against the brick wall that was Lessa. But if Lessa knew it was coming, it would be far less effective.

Sure enough, as Yona attempted to drill her sword into Lessa's back, the Guardian pivoted. She slapped at the weapon with her own, and filled the ring with the hard thwack of wood. "Nope," Lessa countered, "not gonna be able to get in that way." And without allowing her opponent any time to regroup, Lessa struck out again.

Yona: 1/3
Lessa: 2/3

Even as the woman's sword slapped against Lessa's shoulder, a small smile crept across her lips. It had been a very long time since Lessa had considered herself "competitive." Before Aincrad, everything had been been a competition between Alyssa and her three brothers: cleaning rooms, eating meals, scores on tests. And, of course, video games had always been at the center of their sibling rivalry. But the years in the floating castle hadn't been kind to Lessa. Failed relationships, lost friends, and the seemingly endless monotony of it all had dulled that once sharp edge, and considerably lessened her thirst for victory. Of course, the absolute spanking she had received from her then-best-friend Alkor hadn't helped matters, either. Pausing, she cut a quick glance toward the dark-haired man, who appeared as focused as ever in his own duel. He is a machine, she thought for the umpteenth time. His ability to completely detach himself when the moment called for it both terrified and impressed her.

Shifting back to the matter at hand, Lessa offered her pretty opponent a small nod. "And I appreciate that," she answered, and meant it. "I'm looking for a good fight as well. That was a nice hit, by the way. Keep 'em coming."

Without another word, Lessa feigned to the left, then ducked, mimicking the rolling movement that boxers preferred. In one fluid movement, she straightened, leading with her sword.

Yona: 1/3

Lessa: 0/3

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa, The Violet Guardian Level: 31 Paragon Level: 47 HP: 800/800 EN: 118/118 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 44 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) Custom Skill: Skills: Straight Sword R5 Heavy Armor R5 Battle Healing R5 Energist Fighting Spirit Charge Active Mods: Impetus Emergency Recovery Justified Riposte Inactive Mods: Addons: Iron Skin Ferocity Stamina Active Extra Skills: Parry Survival Inactive Extra Skills: Battle Ready Inventory: Teleportation Crystal x5 Mass HP Recovery Crystal x2 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] Scents of the Wild: Wedding Ring:

"Hey hey!" Lessa lifted a hand in greeting, her smile as warm as the sun that spilled into the dojo. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Lessa. It's really nice to meet you." Pausing for a moment, Lessa tucked her wooden sword under her arm, and adjusted the way her pants slung across her torso. The traditional Japanese garment was excellently crafted, and looked very neat in Baldur's authentic dojo, but... well, truth be told, Lessa worried that it might fall off her. There simply wasn't enough room for the myriad of belts she preferred. Thank god for her hips. How was it that the bean poles around her managed to keep their pants up?

Blinking herself back from her odd tangent, the Guardian retrieved the sword from her armpit, and held it loosely in front of her. It came as no surprise that the woman knew her way around a sword, but the unusual weight and balance of the weapon threw her off a bit. It all threw her off a bit, were she being honest. Was she meant to strike as hard as possible? Should she pull her attacks a bit? Would the system guide her, as it did in actual combat? Too many unknowns.

"Truth be told," she began suddenly, her smile going sheepish, "I don't really know how all of this is going to go. But since it's all for fun, I figure we might as well try it, right?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Lessa lunged forward, leading with her wooden sword.

@Yona

I'm surprised Bahr didn't tell you about it.

Despite the situation, Lessa's stomach rolled at the off-handed comment. "No," she replied flatly, before she might feel inclined to say more. Her relationship drama had absolutely no place in an abandoned orphanage. Hell, even if she and Oscar chatted over burgers at some inn, she wasn't sure she would tell him. Lessa wasn't sure what Oscar was to her anymore, but confiding in him did not appeal to her. She drew in a sharp breath. "He didn't tell me."

Oscar's explanation left her with more questions than answers, but some of the pieces did begin to fall into place. Why had the man she had once considered a friend slaughtered in cold blood? Why had he abandoned the guild, and severed ties with everyone he knew? Well, except for Freyd, apparently. Lessa's gaze flicked between the two, puzzlement swimming behind her stony façade. She hardly knew the Whisper in Shadows, but she figured something in his personality made him a suitable companion for Oscar. He likely wouldn't have known about Tyson otherwise.

When Oscar mentioned maxing out the orphans' sneak skill, that façade crumbled. "You figured Tyson would come for them," she stammered, horror and fury warring for control in her voice and on her face. Like a rider atop a spooked horse, Lessa dragged at the reins, willing logic to take over before she gave in to emotion. There was truth in Oscar's words - had he not prepared them, they would certainly be dead. But the mere concept of leaving children in a place where they might be targeted... Bile rose in Lessa's throat, but she swallowed it down again. "Is he the type who would find the kids, no matter where you moved them?" She didn't need to hear the answer. She could see it on Oscar's face, and feel it in the tension that hummed through the air like electricity.

"Anyone fucked up enough to target orphans deserves to die."

The words were out of her mouth before she could fully process them. In fact, they sounded foreign to her own ears, as if someone else spoke them. But when her brain finally caught up, Lessa realized that she meant every single word. She wholeheartedly supported the death of another person. In fact, were he standing before her, she might feel compelled to deal the final blow herself. Further time to dwell on the issue might bring about a different reaction, of course.

She just wouldn't give herself time to change her mind.

"Don't worry about my heart," she replied coolly. "It'll hold up just fine."

"Oh no, it would have been fine," she assured him, shaking her head. "Seriously. I'm always up to hang out with you. And yeah." She shrugged one shoulder. "The alternative was spending the holiday at home alone. Like you said, all of this was definitely the better choice. I wasn't really sure what to expect. I'm definitely not a party animal, though my brothers used to throw them all the time, and I'd normally sneak in for the wine coolers." She grinned mischievously. "I'm not sure anyone with three older brothers could be expected to avoid the temptation. But even in college, I didn't really go out much. I was way more likely to stay at home playing Call of Duty or something."

Pausing to look around, Lessa nearly missed Jomei's offered drink. She accepted it with a nod of thanks, took a sip, and grimaced. "A little holiday spirit?" she repeated, her skepticism clear. But she took another sip anyway. "Yeah, definitely not my scene," Lessa concluded, "but I'm glad I decided to come. It's been nice catching up with you again lately."

When Jomei withdrew the gift, she nearly bobbled the cup. "Oh!" she exclaimed, face immediately plunging into a shade of deep crimson. "I didn't bring you anything. I'm so sorry. I wasn't really expecting to do presents, so I-" Her voice trailed as she set his drink on the nearest ledge, then accepted the package with a sort of reverence. With the careful caution of a woman raised to save her wrapping paper, Lessa peeled the green cover back. It drifted to the floor, forgotten, as Lessa lifted the shadow box to eye level. Slowly, she turned it around, marveling in craftsmanship, and the simple beauty of it all. She couldn't read the sheet music, but her blue eyes danced along each hand-written note. When they moved back to his, they were filled with wonder. Her voice held it, too, as she whispered, "Can I?"

At his go-ahead, Lessa slowly slipped her hand inside and activated the recording crystal. She lifted the box to her ear, leaning in so that Jomei could listen, too. The music struggled to rise above the cheerful holiday jingles, but as long as they could hear it, nothing else mattered. Lessa just closed her eyes, and for two minutes, simply let the music wash over her. When it finally ended, and the moment passed, the chaos of the party crashed into her once more. But Lessa merely set the box beside Jomei's drink on the counter, stepped toward him, stepped into him. Her arms snaked around his torso, and with perhaps too much force, she hugged him fiercely. 

Quote

To: Baldur

Hey hey! So I saw you’re putting together a tournament. I do have to say, kind of weird with the whole thirst thing. I’m definitely not thirsty, and even if I were, I wouldn’t use a tournament to get a date. But I’ve been spending a lot of time at home lately, and I wouldn’t mind an excuse to get out. And your house is so pretty, and it would be great to see you again. And I’ve been kind of lonely, if I’m being honest. Hanging out with people would be a nice change of pace. So while I don’t fit the “thirsty” requirement, I’d love to participate!

- Lessa

PS - Not thirsty. Just want to make that clear. Not. Thirsty. Okay, bye.

"Ahhh, yeah," Lessa drawled, flicking her wrist to summon her menu. She took a few seconds to locate the quest, and though her eyes continued to skim the description, her feet never stopped moving. "I don't actually see anything about picking up the quest, but that could just be because I've already done so. It does want us to gather some information though, just from the people in the area." Loosing a quick shrug, she added, "I'm not sure exactly what that entails. Just do a bunch of eavesdropping? Spy on some NPCs?"

Appearing to think better of it, Lessa simply strode up to the nearest NPC. "Hey," she greeted simply, accenting the word with a quick wave of her hand. "Can you tell us anything about the Cerberus or Inferno Cavern?"

The young man's eyes popped wide, and like a deer in the headlights, he simply stared back at Lessa. Then he whipped around, moved into a choppy run, and disappeared across the street.

Lessa let a long pause hang in the space the man had just occupied, before finally murmuring, "Okayyyy. I guess maybe I did it wrong? Does that break the quest or something? Because I-"

"Oh don't mind him." The sudden voice had Lessa whipping around herself, coming face to face with a tank of a woman. Beautiful, and also a little terrifying, the NPC gestured with a hand that could probably snap a man's neck. "Sorry about Ralf there. He's scared of everything, including Cerberus, the Inferno Cavern, and talking to people. Also talking. And people." The woman grinned, a gesture which Lessa matched; she liked this goddess immensely.

"You don't seem to have the same problem," the Guardian answered, and the NPC laughed.

"Not at all. Takes a hell of a lot to scare me. The name's Jaina. You two looking to take on Cerberus?"

Lessa nodded. "More or less. I figure you've beat us to him?"

Another laugh, and then, "Lucky for you, I haven't had the time." Jaina's eyes narrowed good-naturedly. "Doesn't mean I'm scared of him though."

"Of course not," Lessa assured her. "Can you tell us anything about him?"

Jaina shrugged her enormous shoulders, then pointed a finger. "Just that he's that direction. Bit of a walk up toward the volcano, but you shouldn't miss it if you keep to path." A gleam came into her hazel eyes as she said, "When you've beaten him, come back and fight me. Tell me which one of us is stronger?"

Though she knew dueling an NPC was out of the question, Lessa nodded. "Definitely."

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂   Lessa, The Violet Guardian Level: 31 Paragon Level: 39 HP: 820/820 EN: 114/114 Stats: Damage: 23 Mitigation: 122 Battle Healing: 41 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: Purple Hair Ribbon (T2 TRINKET - LD3) Skills: Straight Sword R5 Heavy Armor R5 Battle Healing R5 Energist Fighting Spirit Charge Active Mods: Impetus Emergency Recovery Addons: Iron Skin Ferocity Stamina Active Extra Skills: Parry 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]

"I SAID NO."

Oliver shied away from Lessa, his small frame growing even smaller beneath her wrath. A small part of her regretted the way she roared, but the larger part silenced the creeping remorse - the part with concern for his safety. That had to come first. "Your safety matters to me," she told the child. "You matter to me. I know you want to help find your friends, but I can't do anything if I'm worried about you. Do you understand me?"

Fear trembled in the boy's wide eyes, even as he nodded. 

"Good. You need to stay with Olivia, so I can focus on finding - everyone." She tripped over the single word, struggling to force it around the lump in her throat. Just over Oliver's head, Lessa saw the woman rushing toward them. Her brunette waves flared out behind her, flapping like a cape as she swooped in to save the day. A vague message, a plea for help, was all it had taken to get her dear friend here. "Thank you for watching him," Lessa managed as Olivia slowed to a stop beside Oliver. Instinct had Lessa hooking her arm around Oliver's neck, dragging him closer, and planting a hard kiss on the top of his head. "Please be safe." The raw emotion, sharp enough to cut through Lessa's heavy armor, lingered long after the Guardian fled deeper into town.

Oliver's panicked message had interrupted Lessa's morning training session, and she hadn't even read it in its entirety before she took action. Oliver had stopped by the orphanage to visit his friends, only to find the building empty and ransacked. Scared for them, he had reached out to the adult he trusted most. She had shouldered that fear for him. If dozens of orphans could disappear from the center of a safe zone... well, was there really anything worse? Besides, Lessa might be the only Player willing to search for those poor children. Well, aside from-

"Oscar."

Her own blade rose to meet his, the metallic clang humming like static electricity in the still silence. She swatted his weapon away from her face, and when she glared back at him, her blue eyes were as hard as the steel in her sword. "Not a good time?" she echoed. Her voice remained calm, but her body language betrayed her; she clung desperately to fleeting control. She hadn't seen her former guildmate since his path had deviated from hers, in a very big very. He'd added names to the Monument. While there hadn't been bodies to leave behind, he'd scattered friends like corpses in his own personal crusade. She hadn't had the opportunity to understand his plight. He hadn't given her that opportunity.

Lessa's eyes never left Oscar, even as Freyd materialized from the shadows. The only indication that she noticed his sudden arrival was the tightening of her hand around her hilt. "And I'm not in the mood for witty banter," she replied simply. Only then did the man's words catch up with her.

"Who is Tyson?" Finally, her gaze shifted to flick between the two men. "What don't I know?"

Wrapped in silence, Lessa simply observed from the outer edge of the group. Though she did not known the Frontliners well, their answers largely fell along lines she would expect. Logical, by-the-book Raidou opted for the kill, as did the equally matter-of-fact Freyd. The latter went so-far as to remind the Fallen King that he was merely a work of fiction, and strangely, it bothered Lessa that he would do so. As if he somehow meant to kick the man while he was down. But he is just data, the tiniest voice reminded her, affirming Freyd's entire argument. Saying nothing in reply, Lessa drew in a deep breath.

She held the air in her lungs as Oscar ranted, closing her eyes and focusing on the pent breath to keep from snapping out a retort. For some reason, it annoyed her that he might use the orphans as ammunition against the Frontliners, even in some vague, metaphorical sense. She had seen those children, and how he'd acted with them. She knew what they meant to him, and for that reason, found enough sympathy to remain quiet. But her jaw worked as she slowly exhaled through her nose. It was inappropriate to claim that the spare route, or even the discussion, somehow punished those Players who waited in the safe zones. 

The accusations and insults flew like spiders silk, sticking to Players, and weaving a tangled web that Lessa found both suffocating and nearly impossible to follow. Part of this, she knew, came from her years spent away from the Frontlines. But there was also an intensity that sparked through the air, a tension that she had never experienced within Aincrad. Was this what it meant to be a Frontliner? To find yourself more intimidated by your comrades than your enemy? A jolt spiked through her as weapons were drawn, but Baldur's quick response saved her from reacting. That booming voice of a General, she thought for what was perhaps the dozenth time. He did have a commanding way about him, but she knew him well enough to recognize the plea in his words. He was angry, of course, but concern lingered there as well. A concern she shared with him.

Surprise overshadowed that concern as Freyd began to speak, delivering a performance she would never have expected from him. The vote change, too, caught her entirely off-guard. As "spare" votes continued to fall like toppled dominoes, the woman studied her own prompt. Kill or spare? Like some spectator in Ancient Rome, she was asked to decide the Gladiator's fate. And it made her sick to her stomach.

She likely would have chosen "spare" regardless. Though merely an NPC, when she looked at Gabrandr, she saw Alexander - a line of code with as much life as the Players themselves. How could she condemn a man to death if given the choice to spare him? Looking at it objectively, one might wonder why Cardinal would give them a spare option at all, if not to make it a valid and perhaps rewarding option. But neither of those arguments mattered in that moment. Lessa felt the air shift, and knew the discussion was drawing to a close. If she had time for one final act, she might as well make it one of unity.

"If we fight together, we decide together, too. I respect whatever verdict is reached, and I hope that this experience will make us a stronger, more united front."

<<Spare>>

At Oji's mention of Oscar, a shadow drifted across Lessa's usually sunny expression. Dipping her head in an attempt to hide the gut reaction, she managed a simple, "Ah, I see."

Interest replaced the unease as Hik began addressing a new customer. Lessa recognized how incredibly rude staring was, but she couldn't help watching the snowy-haired Player out of the corner of her eye. When the woman began gesticulating, those eyes popped wide. "Oh," the blonde breathed. "I think she's mute." Turning back to Oji, she flashed him an apologetic smile before holding up one finger. "Hang on one sec, okay?" Then, shoving back from the table, she moved up alongside the pair.

"Hey," she greeted them both, then addressed the other woman. "I'm so sorry if this is rude or anything, but I just wanted to say that I know some basic signing." Pressing her palm to her chest, Lessa continued, "During my student teaching, I had a student with dysarthria. I learned some easy stuff so that I could understand him better. Really, nothing too complex, but things like the alphabet and ground-level stuff." As a blush warmed her cheeks, she concluded with, "So yeah, just if you need to order anything special or something."