Lessa

Rather than bursting into pixels as expected, Stoneheart took a painfully slow step backward. Then another. Then another. Finally, with a crash that shook the small space and sent pebbles skittering, the guardian fell backward. He came to rest in front of the opposite door, his back pressed squarely against it. Even in death, the golem protected the human from the horror that awaited her inside. Silence and stillness fell across the room. If brave enough, one could pick their way across the battlefield toward the resting giant, peering over its shoulder to get a better look at the carvin

Lessa studied the shattered gems for a long moment, expression as hard as the rocks that surrounded them. Finally, she loosed a small sigh, and shrugged a single shoulder. “I mean, I guess,” she conceded. “It could have been the result of the cave in. It probably was.” She paused, then nodded, as if to convince herself. “I’m sure you’re right, Jomei. And I can’t figure out why anyone would want to smash the crystals.” Still, doubt swirled in her eyes as she continued studying the wreckage. She looked as though she might say more, but then thought better of it. Jomei’s question seemed to s

The door swung open to reveal a small, unremarkable room. Though the ceiling hung a good fifteen feet up, the earthen walls closed in on all sides, providing limited space to move. Speckled sunlight filtered in from somewhere above, fighting weakly against the darkness that clung to the corners. Opposite the entrance stood a second door, the same as the one just entered through. Something appeared to be etched above the frame, but the dim light made it difficult to know for sure. The view was also obstructed by a giant stone golem, standing at attention in the center of the room. He hunched on

"Drinking myself stupid in a bar I can't get drunk in," she echoed, then snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, that's about right." Lessa turned back to the bar, pressing against it as she rest both forearms on the scuffed surface. She cupped the warm mug between her hands, watching the steam rise lazily into the air. "It could be worse," she said flatly. "And we've been in here... god, we've been in here a really long time. So I know I've had plenty of time to just get over myself." Pausing again, she chewed on her lower lip as she considered her next words. For whatever reason, her story had burs

"A cave in?" Lessa echoed, frowning. Accidents such as these were common in Aincrad. The NPCs faced the same hardships that normal humans might in the real-world, and the universe wasn't always fair or friendly. Still, an event of this magnitude wasn't something she'd seen in a long time. One or two people trapped, maybe, but an entire group of farmers? That was definitely cause for alarm. Putting voice to her thoughts, she asked, "How many people are we talking?" Tiberius' face lost even more color, as if that were possible. When he finally spoke, it appeared that the short answer pained

Alexander returned a moment later, placing matching mugs in front of the two adventurers. Raidou's contained his unsweetened green tea, while Lessa's steamed with the sickly-sweet smell of hot caramel apple cider. "Thank you," Lessa said, and this time all silliness had dropped from her tone. The NPC studied her for a moment, head cocked, as if the shift caught him off-guard. Then he nodded, gave a soft "mhm," and returned to his cleaning. She was genuinely grateful for his kindness, even if they took shots at each other most every day. She was also grateful for his seemingly endless supply of

“I thought so,” Lessa confirmed, nodding once as Raidou admitted to, indeed, being Raidou. As the patron seated directly beside the Red Wanderer vacated his stool, Lessa claimed it for herself. Then, setting her stolen mug on the bar top with a solid thud, she gestured to the empty container. “Another please, bartender.” Alexander paused in his cleaning to stare at her for a full five seconds. Then, he heaved an enormous sigh. “You’ll be the death of me,” he informed Lessa before turning to Raidou. “Can I get you anything?” Once he’d disappeared into the kitchen, the Guardian shifted

The barkeep glanced toward the newcomer, the lift of one bushy eyebrow the only expression on his weathered face. “Aye,” he answered, “that would be me.” But before he could say more, the barrel-chested man rounded on another patron. “I’m cutting you off.” His victim, a blonde in a pastel pink hoodie and black yoga pants, stared back incredulously. “But there’s no alcohol in these.” ”Doesn’t matter,” came the NPC’s reply. “No more.” Even as the man grabbed for her empty mug, the Player snatched it back, cradled it against her chest, and snapped, “I’m not drunk, you know. I

With a self-deprecating snort, Lessa replied, "I don't think I've left the house more than twice in the past month. My routine doesn't even involve putting pants on. If Aincrad had Doordash, I'd have put on fifty pounds of Whoppers, Crunchwrap Supremes, and Sausage and Cheese McGriddles." For a moment, silence hung between them. Then, even the wry humor left her expression. She pressed the pad of her hand against her right eye; there were no tears, but it still felt raw. "I don't even know what paradise looks like anymore." The admittance sounded so melodramatic, like something her middle scho

"Oh no no, I'm good," Lessa assured Jomei. At the same time, she shoved her face within inches of an old tome, squinting at the handwritten text like a junkie might regard their next hit. Before Jomei could react, she yanked herself back, shaking her head rapidly. "Nope," she reiterated. "I am good. Soooo good. I am not at all obsessed with some dusty old books in the middle of a video game that kills people." She put extra emphasis on each word, as if that were necessary to convince Jomei of her conviction. Still, when she hooked her arm through his and dragged him toward the front door, she

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 54 HP: 820/820 EN: 120/120 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 45 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)

"No," came her knee-jerk answer, grief-stricken expression never wavering as she watched the bound captain. Half a dozen armed men surrounded the man, and though Daemon Xandis wore a brave face, Lessa could see his jaw clenching and unclenching anxiously. The NPC, who had never been anything but kind to her, was in genuine trouble. His people, the innocent Ladonians, were likely in a similar predicament below decks. They don't deserve this. "I'm not sure if this is some sort of messed up event or what," Lessa muttered, words spouting from her lips like water from a faucet, "but it's hones

Her hand clutched his, and in it, Lessa found balance in both the literal and figurative sense. Later, she'd look back on that moment and ruminate on the fact that they were holding hands. But in that split second, she simply squeezed, steadying herself against the sudden attack. With a pang of regret, she let his hand slip away as he confidently summoned his weapon, drew it, and strode forward. Jomei was one of Aincrad's most powerful players - surely, he'd surpassed her over the years - and she had complete faith in him. Whatever this random encounter was, she could think of no better c

After Jomei's shrimp-related admission, Lessa added a snort of her own. "You can't eat fifty shrimp in one sitting?" Feigning disappointment, she shook her head, then heaved a great sigh. "I'm afraid that's a deal breaker for me. I simply cannot entertain the notion of being with a man who cannot eat fifty shrimp." The words left her mouth before her mind could register them, and she felt a blush climbing her neck. It spread across her cheeks like unfurling flower petals, and she ducked her head to hide the tell-tale embarrassment. Maybe it won't mean anything to him, she thought on a note of

Much better company, huh? Lessa grinned back at him, even as something fluttered in the pit of her stomach. It was an odd sensation, and one she hadn't felt in quite some time, but she couldn't say it was unpleasant. "Better company, huh?" she finally asked, leaning over to give his shoulder a gentle bump with her own. "You say that now, but you haven't met the cruise staff. Seriously, I had a waiter once who totally threw out the 'six per customer' and brought me as much shrimp cocktails as I wanted. Seriously. Like fifty shrimp." Where perhaps a more modest lady might have been embarras

"Yep," Lessa agreed, "definitely feels like we're taking off. There's no turning back now." The flurry of activity drew her attention - men calling out, chains falling away, the thunk and grind of something mechanical. Though perhaps it clashed with the classy sophistication of the party, she found herself watching the dock workers. Despite the rebellion, and all the heartache and bloodshed that had accompanied it, the NPCs still managed to put on a fancy evening for them. They showed up, did their job, and performed like the well-oiled machines they tinkered with. Nature was healing, as the c

“Something like that, yeah.” Lessa smiled at the plum-haired woman when she mentioned their previous encounters. “It’s good to see you again, regardless.” At Nari’s trailing question, clearly meant to inquire about their relationship status, Lessa felt Jomei shift at her side. Uncomfortable? Insulted? It’s not worth trying to psychoanalyze him, Lessa silently chided herself. She had spent so much time trying to decipher every movement, every sound, every word (said or unsaid). Lately, she was trying to live by the mantra “if it matters, they’ll say something.” Easier said than done, though.

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 54 HP: 820/820 EN: 120/120 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 45 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)

Rows of shelves ran in all directions, rolled out like a red carpet, seeming to beckon Lessa closer. They stood a couple feet higher than she did, and if it weren’t for the soaring ceilings, she might have felt claustrophobic. Instead, the woman felt like she stood in the coziest, most inviting museum ever. Art hung on walls, bronze busts guarded the aisles, and real plants thrived in their prettily painted pots. Warm light bathed the library’s man occupants, white and blue crystals mixing to amplify the space’s sense of magic. And the books. So, so many books. Thick tomes, paper-thin doc

At the newcomer’s question, Lessa perked up a bit. “Baldur?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter. Hot water streaked down her skin as she shifted, and steam rose where her damp hair met the cool night air. She grinned impishly at Morningstar, her blue eyes alight with humor. “He and I go way back. We met when he jumped me in a field. Naturally, I had to defend myself. He’s lucky I was feeling merciful that day, and let the poor newbie live.” Barely able to contain bubbling laughter, she nodded sagely. “That’s exactly how it happened, too. I’m definitely not exaggerating or anything.”

Lessa gave a soft tsk, the sound echoing in the cup before she removed it from her lips. “Who doesn’t like libraries?” she countered, rolling her eyes for added dramatic flair. “Certainly nobody I’d like to spend my time with.” As Jomei asked about preparations, she downed the last of her now lukewarm cider in one giant swig. “No preparations on my end,” she answered after coming up for air. “And I’m totally finished. I can finish one of those suckers off in record time.” Recognizing that her partner was also finished, Lessa pushed her chair back from the table with the always obnoxious s

“Ooh, danger,” she echoed, drawing out the word to add emphasis. “I like danger. Almost as much as I like trouble.” She accepted the steaming mug with a nod of thanks. After a hesitant first sip to check the temperature, she moaned in a manner than had the couple at the next table eyeing her. “Godddddd,” came her appreciative groan, “that never gets old.” She lifted her mug toward Hik, who apparently recognized her praise, and accepted with a quick thumbs up. After another long swig, Lessa set the mug back on the table, shook out her blonde hair, then leaned across the table toward Jomei.