Azide

Not a word was spoken by the young man dressed in green as Opal shared with him a sliver of her past; it did not seem appropriate to do otherwise, the woman seemed to be coming clean about what could only be described as a turbulent period of her life. Of course, he could have told her that he too had known the pain of losing a member of one's guild- but such actions would only serve to cast the spotlight on himself, when it was she who seemed to be in need of condolences, not he. Besides, he had never really gotten the chance to know Zaryn, who had passed too young and too soon. It would be a slap in the face to all those who had died, as well as those who'd survived them for him to claim that he understood. He would have pitied her, if she hadn't appeared so strong.

As the woman's tale came to a close, with her eyes drifting off and her hands in her lap, Azide sensed that it was time for him to speak. "I'm sorry," he said, the words almost a whisper as his gaze shifted back to Opal. He closed his eyes, bowing his head slightly forward as a breath escape his lungs in a hushed sigh. "I hope," began Azide, his eyes fluttering open, "that this time, it'll be your own shoes you don when we march with the Knights of the Blood." He paused, before allowing his features to soften, as a thin, yet knowing smile stretched across closed lips. "If I am to be your Vice Commander, then it would be to my benefit to see to it that we retained only those who wished to count themselves among our ranks. So should you ever find that your heart does not bleed white and red, then know that I will not remember you as a deserter." 

Opal shifted in her seat and fiddled with her dark hair before meeting his gaze once more, curiosity seemingly lingering in the aftermath of an amber storm. "Unfortunately, there's not much that I can claim to know about either the Knights, nor of their leader," he admitted, shaking his head. "But what I do know, is that they exist now, that they existed in the heyday of my former guild, and that they continued to exist for every moment in between. From what I've gathered, the Knights have always been around, predating even the famous Azure Brigade."

His eyes flickered, as memories rushed to mind, but were left unreflected, expressing themselves only as a faint glimmer in his gaze. "It's the same old story in this world- people build themselves up, they build their guilds up- only for all of their efforts to crumble and rust. I'm sure you've seen guilds come and go, the same with people- from hardened front-liners, to the greenest of recruits. Personally, you could say that I have no interest in investing my my efforts in that anything that will not last."

Topic Complete

+200 col to Adelyn and Azide

+1 SP to Adelyn and Azide

That made two- twice that he had learned the real name of another player in this game, and twice that he had given his own; the number was low, almost to the point of discomfort, but at least now he could claim an upward trend. Even then, the former of the occasions had been so long ago, and he had not seen the man Raeyliff since even before that long hiatus. He wondered what Joe was up to these days; from a promising young alchemist, to a member of his old pride and joy- Square One, and now just a fading memory. 

And though he had never truly doubted that the name Adelyn might double as the girl's actual name, at least he could say that he'd bothered to check, rather than simply assuming. It was too easy to assume, to conclude without giving the other party a chance to respond. As somebody he had only met today, he'd decided that he would start anew with all of those old habits and crutches.

Again, he found the girl staring at him, and flicked his own eyes away. He wondered what she might be thinking at the moment, as nothing obvious came to mind. Azide took another bite of his filet, chewing slowly as Adelyn dropped another question for him. Taking a moment to first finish the bite, he cleared his throat, before sending his eyes rolling skyward. After a pause, he turned them back to the girl sitting opposite to himself, his face contorted into a slight frown. "Napoleon," he said, the phrase leaving his lips as though if it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

He watched as Calrex further weakened the proud beast with a mix of unarmed strikes combined with maneuvers of his sword, ending the spectacle with a heavy downward slash. Rebekah was well on the man's heels, running in right as the Art was played to its conclusion, arriving just in time to see Ziz beat its great wings with a mighty flap; once again, Ziz was just out of reach, managing to hold on by the thinnest hair.

Wasting no time, Azide rushed up to the forefront once again, where he kept himself low so as to maintain the more favorable position- at least until, the next opportunity to strike presented itself. "I know you're a lady of few words," began Azide, without lifting his eyes from the overgrown avian before them. "But you're even quieter than usual today." Once again, he reminded himself that the blonde-haired girl had not uttered a single sentence all day. "Everything alright?"

HP List
Calrex: 177/177 | Back
   Energy: 22/43
Rebekah: 126/126 | Front
   Energy: 15/29
Azide: 129/129 | Back > Front
   Energy: 16/31 (+1)

Enemies:
Ziz: 172/500 

The phantom fiend moved back, leaving Azide gasping for air, as if he were standing under a very cold shower. With knees ready to buckle, and less than half a bar of health, it was a welcome sight when both Rebekah and Calrex stepped in to continue the fight against their lokian foe. An elaborate series of spins, twirls and thrusts on the part of the former struck the false figure too many times to count in such a brief span of time, looking more akin to ballet than swordsmanship. It was a far cry from Calrex's response, choosing to follow up the intricate routine with a single gliding thrust that seemed to reach beyond even the length of of his blade.

As the blue-haired swordsman came to a halt, Azide looked on as a golden column of light at the end of the implanted blade ebbed and surged while it lay firmly embedded inside the doppelganger. A stern warning was uttered by the Aquamarine Knight shortly before the blade was swiftly removed in its entirety, granting finality to what had been a most unpleasant experience. Just before the figure had shattered, Azide thought he'd seen that devilish grin twitch, as though it had been trying to speak through gritted teeth.

In front of the all, the swirling vortex known only as the void continued to bathe them all in its pale light. For that moment, the entire world was nothing more than contrasting shades of red, and the sight ahead of him lay at the center of it all.

Nostrils flared, veins bulging, each breath hot enough to burn; Azide tore at the air with a swipe of his hand, all five fingers of a single hand a blur as he navigated through the menu. An instant later, a white and glowing rapier phased into his hand, his fingers wrapping around its grip until his knuckles became white. Azide spun once, and with a grunt equal parts exhausted and spiteful, let the blade fly. And fly it did- straight into the dark abyss, where it disappeared in a flash of white. His heart pounded away inside his chest for what seemed like a few dozen times, but couldn't have been any more than a few seconds when the rapier was flung back unceremoniously from out the darkness. Still spinning, the slender weapon struck the ground in such a way that it snapped in half upon impact. Each fragment landed within half a meter of the rapier's brother forge, Quantum Slicer, before shattering in unison.

The world went blurry, and he felt as if he were a little child, eyes closed and spinning faster and faster on the balls of his feet- only, he couldn't stop. It was as he'd been left to dangle from the end of a string, and condemned to endure the violent aftermath of a tightly wound cord as it was suddenly released. His eyes unfocused, and his legs felt like jelly left out for too long in the sun, until they failed entirely. "I guess I should've used that little adrenaline rush to get back to town, instead of doing what I did..." remarked Azide, blinking slowly as he gazed at the roof of the cavern. "Go figure..." he sighed. It was a welcome change of pace, the cold cave floor- at least to his throbbing head, which still radiated heat and the frustrations of five months un-vented.

-1 Gauss' Law Rapier

ID: 35594
BD: 3 + 3 (ACC) + 1 (Concentration) - 1 (Low Light) = 6 (Hit)
CD: 10 (Not blown back)

Concentration Cool Down: 0/5 turns

The blue-haired swordsman appeared by their side a mere moments later, arriving just in time to have avoided a flurry of wild swipes from the massive bird. Fortunately enough, not a single one of the creature's talons managed to find its way to a relevant target, but instead massacred the empty air. Ziz looked flustered, flapping its wings all about and thrashing around carelessly, like a little child throwing a temper tantrum. Sadly, it would probably be difficult to find a corner big enough to send the beast to. "Back so soon?" Azide remarked, watching as Calrex entrenched his blade firmly into the ground. "Might wanna be careful there- there's nothing that would prevent a strong wind loosening your grip," he added, alluding to the scenario that Calrex was blown back, but not his weapon.

Again, he raised his dagger, taking aim at the flying creature as if each eye were the long barrel of a rifle. Tightening his grip, he tore through the current, the black-and-green knife bared proudly between his fingers. The length of Chemikaze assumed a blood-red glow as he launched himself into the air with a vaulting leap, sending feathers shooting every which way as he spun wildly against the underbelly of the airborne beast, leaving four long gashes by the end of it. 

Falling back to the earth, Azide landed with a controlled tumble, before springing back to his feet. "Better get that sword out of the ground, Calrex. You're up!" 

Eternal Cyclone (4x4) [10 + 2 (Charge) = 12] = 192

192 - 60 (MIT) = 132 DMG

HP List
Calrex: 177/177 | Front
   Energy: 32/43
Rebekah: 126/126 | Front
   Energy: 14/29
Azide: 129/129 | Front
   Energy: 15/31 (+1)(-16)

Enemies:
Ziz: 222/500 (-132)

The generosity of the Crimson-clad commander, along with the warm, earthy scent wisping from Opal's mug made the idea of coffee a tempting one. "Of course, Commander," he answered, nodding firmly as he rose from his chair and made the short trip over to the buffet table beside their own. He smiled, but did not speak as he passed by Opal while the woman headed in the opposite direction, presumably looking to take a seat.

It was apparent that the leader of the Knights had spared no expense in preparing for this occasion, despite the fact that the three of them alone occupied the current meeting room. He wondered if perhaps there were any other members that were coming- but if there were, then their faces would almost certainly be new to him.

He shook away the thought, figuring that it would be be unnecessary to wonder about these things now- if anybody else were coming, Heathcliff would almost certainly mention the fact. For now, it was the time to be focused on the present, as well as the future- not only of himself, but for the Knights as a whole. In the meantime, his fingers wrapped around the handle of a white and spotless mug, and he lifted the porcelain cup to his face. Taking a deep breath, he took in the comforting aroma of the still-steaming liquid, before returning promptly to his chair. No sugar necessary either- black would do the just fine.

Again, he bowed his head as Heathcliff spoke to him words of praise and commendation. "When I found an excuse to finally update my wardrobe, I'll admit I leapt at the opportunity the first chance I got," he remarked, recalling his most recent visit to his longtime tailor and acquaintance, Ariel. A smile lit his face as the man referred to him by the title of Vice Commander, and although he did his best to keep a straight face, his eyes flashed with pride in spite of it all. He continued, his voice kept conscious level and steady. "I hope only to prove that your friend was not mistaken." 

With a turn, he met the honey-colored eyes of his then-opponent, now guildmate. "Likewise, Opal. The pleasure is mine." As Heathcliff discussed the topic of uniforms with the woman, he reflected on how he was speaking even more formally than usual; something about the man beside him seemed to command it, no matter how inviting his demeanor.

It was then that the man addressed the two of them collectively for the first time, preceding his statements with a piercing stare which reminded Azide of the way a drill sergeant might intimidate a new recruit on the first day; in hindsight, that image did not sound wildly dissimilar to his own situation. Furthermore, the Commander's casual mention of having received a report of the battle was admittedly not unexpected, and yet he couldn't help but wonder how this unseen informant had managed to escape the view of both Opal and himself.

"I'm glad to be of service, Commander Heathcliff," he began, before laying a hand against his chest. "I swear to it that I will give every last inch of my strength to grow our humble ranks." His eyes shifted to lone lady in the room. "And I say this with no implication that your knowledge of our duel is in anyway incomplete, but I'd like to put in a good word for Opal. The young lady is quite skilled and capable with the katana, and I have full confidence in her abilities." Azide turned back to Heathcliff, feeling as if he'd already said a mouthful. "On the issue of finding new people, I would like to ask for permission to lead a recruitment initiative along with Opal, in order to get our name back out on the streets. With the slowing of the Velvet Room, Crimson Blades, as well as the more veteran guilds, I believe the time is ripe to scout for talent. And perhaps, Commander, you might even be able to make an appearance, so as to stir the pot."

Adelyn smiled, and he found himself smiling back. "Thanks for cutting me some slack," he said, as he sliced off another corner from his filet. Only then did it occur to him that he could have used the dagger in his pouch as a perfectly good piece of alternative cutlery, had he really wanted to. The grip was similar enough, and the knife in his hand reminded him of the battlefield. It was strange, that something so innocuous paralleled so closely a much deadlier instrument. But now was neither the time nor the place to be wielding a knife as anything more than a piece of silverware, and he forced himself to drop the thought. 

Pausing to chew his food, he savored the the comforting flavors as the delicate tastes of tomato and assorted herbs courted his tastebuds. Many of the lavish furnishings of the old days had been too regal, too pompous for his liking. And yet, one could never overdo food- virtual meals like this were nothing more than an imitation of those prepared in the real word, but they sufficed nonetheless in allowing for favorable comparisons. 

"Yes, but at the same time, no," Azide said, as he finished the bite of halibut. "French, if you were wondering- although technically, it's my middle name. But it's sort of what I've always preferred." He shifted in his seat, straightening himself up in the process. "Is it safe to assume that Adelyn is your real name?" he asked, having guessed the answer quite some time ago.

Unlike like the apparent majority of Aincrad, Azide knew little of the orient, and most of Opal's musings resultingly flew right over his head. The only tidbit he really knew about ninjas was that he recalled having read about some old television show featuring a bunch of turtles- back in the more primitive days of entertainment. But the fact that Opal was neither green or shelled suggested that his prior knowledge on the topic was not particularly relevant in this discussion, and so he simply grinned and nodded his head.

In the woman's bronzed eyes, he thought he could see in them a sense of longing as they gazed into his own. They seemed to almost be reaching out for him, while the lady herself concurrently retreated within herself even as she spoke. A breeze rustled his hair, offering a temporary refuge from the relentless rays of the sun, but he didn't move. After a bit of consideration, he offered his reply. "No," he spoke, in a low hush. "I don't think that's quite true."

Fortunately enough, Azide had not been the only one feeling the heat at that moment, as Opal followed her next thoughts with a request to take their conversation to the cooler stands of the colosseum. Taking a front-row seat of a shade section, he turned to his now-guildmate, his hands hidden away in the folds of his coat. "It's interesting that you would point to the Crimson Blades as the epitome of a front-line guild. Naturally, I've met the big guy myself, because who hasn't?" He could still recall when the man had asked him to join the upstart organization, which he had declined as tastefully as he could manage. As he would later learn, these offers were not exactly a rare occurrence. 

"Don't get me wrong," he started, "nothing I saw of Mack made me think of him as anything less than a good man, and I'm sure his colleagues are a perfectly upstanding bunch. That said..." he paused, trailing his sights to the vast and barren arena which opposed their own, almost equally empty half. "A fledgling guild with a meteoric rise, with an army of new recruits?" Azide slid a hand from out of his pocket, sweeping aside the brown locks which fallen over his eyes. "That particular story is an uncomfortably familiar one for me, and so I decided that I would rather stake my claim into something that would never die."

"Afraid I was getting lonely back here all by myself?" asked Azide, calling to Calrex over the whoosh of the whistling wind. He clicked his tongue, following the action up with an approving nod- he would have thrown in a quick thumbs-up, if he hadn't needed both of his hands braced in front of himself just stay on balance. The raven-haired man had shown himself to be a resourceful one, anchoring himself to the ground with his sword. Of course, he was fortunate that weapons never seemed to dull in the world of Aincrad, but that little disclaimer did nothing to dull the brilliance of the swordsman's quick-thinking ingenuity.

Shooting the man a quick sidelong glance, he laughed, all while feeling his heels sliding slowly backward in the loose soil. It was times like these where he wished he wore cleats, or perhaps even something with a spiked heel, however ridiculous the latter might look. "So considerate, Calrex. But I'd rather we keep ourselves toward the front- you're welcome to join me, of course." As he finished speaking, he caught sight of a curious stretch of space to his right where the airborne debris was not nearly as dense or plentiful. "A blind spot in the creature's current?" he wondered. 

Deciding that he had little to lose, Azide lowered his stance, with the dual intent of lowering his own surface area while also keeping his center of gravity that much closer to the ground. From there, he made a rush for the disaffected air pocket he'd spotted, gritting his teeth as he battled the headwind for a chance to move himself to a more favorable position. In the end, his efforts paid off as he navigated through the calmer winds until eventually coming to a sliding halt beside Rebekah. "This thing sure can take a beating, can't it?" he remarked, readying his dagger for a potential counterattack.

HP List

Azide: 129/129 | Front
   Energy: 30/31 (+1)
Calrex: 177/177 | Back
   Energy: 31/43
Rebekah: 126/126 | Front
   Energy: 15/29

Enemies:
Ziz: 354/500

For only the second time that night, Azide lifted the fork to his mouth, bringing with it a few flakes of his fish filet. This time around, however, he did not end up nearly choking on his food. He blinked at her retort, finding himself wondering whether she was just being friendly, or if it was something else. It was a tough call, and so he opted to not to make it- he would cross that bridge when he got there, should he ever come across it in the first place. Times like these put into perspective the limits of his ability to read people; it was one thing to get a rough feel for the reasons behind peoples' actions, but it was another to be able to narrow them down to a complete certainty.

His gaze faltered, but he lifted it back to Adelyn, taking another sip from his glass. On some level, he was aware that he wasn't exactly a heavyweight when it came to alcohol, and that his experience with wine had generally been limited to tastings and single glasses at supper. Frowning slightly, he set the glass back against the table, pushing it just beyond reach as he swallowed the last of the liquid. "Sorry, I'm normally not so quick to reach for a bottle," he remarked, with a shake of his head and a stifled chuckle. 

When the girl locked eyes with his own, he found himself looking slightly to her left, then just barely to her right. "You're free to call me whatever you'd like," he offered, willing the usual smile back to his lips. "Friend, hero, Azide- heck, you can even call me Nouel." 

It was funny, that she should bring up the topic of friends; not too long ago, he had spent quite a bit of time in a daze, reflecting on the relationships he shared with various players across Aincrad. In the end, the feeling he'd been left with at the day's conclusion had not been a particularly uplifting one.

As usual, the desire to be right boiled away in his lungs, but he held his tongue and let the feeling simmer in his chest. Clearly, the point had not made it past Zelrius' ego- that health and mitigation slapped onto a couple of players on each team did not make for an adequate defense, or that it would be incredibly stupid and careless not to have at least two tanks positioned first. He could have gone on listing various grievances in his head, but right now, he didn't care for the extra aggravation. Whatever was decided, he was glad to see that others had agreed with the idea of having their main tanks leading the charge.

"Once again," said Azide, making a conscious effort to level his tone, "I'm going to advocate for the use of safeguard potions. For those who don't know, the alchemist-exclusive enhancement completely nullifies the damage from the next attack landed on its user. At this point, I think it's fair to say that any attack which hits the majority of us would do a fair bit more than the twenty-five health you might gain from an overhealth item. Not to say that you couldn't make and use both, but I'd like to point out that it was the enemy who moved first last time around, and not one of us." He recalled the moment when Nikki had opened the colossal doors of the cathedral, only for the dregs to coincidentally launch a collective assault on the party's most heavily armored member. "If history doesn't repeat itself on the twelfth floor, it won't be Tristan that takes that first strike; think of safeguard as insurance for those of you who would like to avoid leaving your lives up to pure chance."

He nearly spat out the morsel of fish he'd been working on, stopping to wipe his lips with his napkin. Adelyn was smiling, but not in anyway that blatantly suggested that she was joking. The girl carried on just as he opened his mouth to speak, and he decided to let her to continue before jumping to conclusions. "It's a habit I have to work on, so I might as well start now," he reasoned. On the other hand, she did look awfully serious about it all, and it could be rather difficult to tell sometimes when somebody was pulling your leg... But if it really came down to it, was there really enough generosity in his heart to carry somebody around all night?

Luckily, Adelyn spared him from having to find out, writing off her statements as light-hearted banter. Once again, she spoke in the same soft voice that he'd become accustomed to. Azide shook his head, holding back a grin, albeit with a debatable amount of success. "Had me going for a moment there," he said, setting down the napkin. "But I thought you said that I could forget about you calling me a hero?"

"You're spoiling us, Commander," said Azide, as his eyes swept the room, lingering on the generous buffet in particular. His words accompanied by a slight bow of the head, he proceeded to the chair to the right of the armored man, where he took his seat. So, this was Heathcliff? His hands folded, against the table, he glanced sidelong at the man as discreetly as he could manage. He was an imposing specimen, literally up to his neck in crimson plated armor, almost more wall than man. Moreover, a tall stature combined with a pair of sharp eyes and an angled jaw lent the player a fiercely formidable presence, despite the calm air about him at the moment. A far cry from the countless guilds headed by twenty-somethings or even teens, this was a man who seemed fit to lead.

He turned, and with a smile, spoke to his newly adopted leader. "It's an honor to finally meet you in the flesh, sir." But with little more to go on, he found himself at a loss for much more to say; rather than blurting out anything at the risk of tarnishing his first impression, he decided it best to take a moment of pause for the time being. If anything, he could at least take comfort in having changed into the red-and-white colors of the Knights shortly before his arrival.

"Oh, I don't know..." said Azide, cocking his head to one side. "I was thinking about a night on the town, if you wouldn't mind a bit of walking." He gestured to the roof-side view of the streets, which though not quite as busy as before, were sure to hold enough fun out there for another two people. In truth, he was not entirely sure what exactly what they might find at this time, as he had rarely ever been out and about past sunset- at least when it came to non combat-related matters. Most people tended to simply retreat to their inns and shops, rather than risk roaming the floors at nighttime; perhaps it was an instinct which had carried over from the other world, which had held no safe zones.

But he did not feel quite ready to let go the events of the day just yet. There had been no grandeur or splendor today- no fall of the Hydra, no vanquishing of Yamato or repentance of an old Crusader; yet, even though not a single weapon had been drawn today, was the feeling in his veins not the very same adrenaline? He wasn't sure, but it was something, at the very least.

A familiar figure slinked up to them from the shadows of the stairway, followed closely after by his actual familiar. After requesting another fork, and downplaying the man's profuse apologies, Azide gladly accepted the utensil before dismissing him. He turned back to Adelyn, his eyes lingering on her own for a moment before he spoke next. "And to ease any worries you might have, I'll make sure that neither of us runs into any trouble down there." He doubted that anyone would bother them, but even if they did, he was confident that he would be able to make them see reason- conversationally, or otherwise. "So," he started, digging into the halibut. "Feeling up for that walk later?"

For a moment, Azide thought he had spotted a sliver of cheer peering out from behind inky curtains, only for it to depart as suddenly as it had come. "Lack of experience in PVP combat is probably the among the most forgivable problems you could have. Seeing as how few and far between orange players are nowadays, not to mention how much tamer they've gotten, duels are more of a spectacle than anything," he answered, giving the lady his attention, despite her averted eyes. By the time she returned the gesture, the old stoicism had long since returned to them.

Her thoughts on the morality of stunning Arts (and presumably, extended also to the use of paralysis-inducing equipment) was a point of contention, as his was a decidedly differing school of thought. Though he remained poker-faced throughout the explanation, he couldn't help but think that the whole idea was a naive one. Their hearts were clearly in the right place- but in the end, duels were about results, and stunning was but a means to that end. It would be wasteful to handicap one's self by not making use of the immobilizing arts. But instead, all he expressed on the issue was a simple, "I see."

To her clarification that she would be willing to toe the line should the need arise, he nodded. "Nobody can fault you for giving priority to survival over honor. Better to be a redeemable bastard than to have 'honorable' engraved on your tombstone," he said, shrugging once more. It was hard to judge a person for what they did when push came to shove; in the end, little was sacred when all that stood between a healthy brain and a fried one was a few pixels on your health bar.

Once more, he looked the woman up and down, before chiming in. "All black, a bit of a stoic, and a katana to boot. From the groups you've just named, I take it you must be a ninja," he remarked, more jokingly than anything. He laughed off her suggestion that he had arrived with the intention of taking her life. "As an alchemist, I'd probably be more likely to slip you a paralysis water than anything," he said, with a shake of his head.

He drew up a window displaying his messages, but so far, nothing new had come up. For the time being, at least. "Still quiet on that front, I'm afraid," he said, raising his hands.

As Adelyn stirred away at her pasta, he stole a glance over the edge of the rooftop. Considering the time which had passed since they'd first set foot up here, it was no surprise that the view had change since then. Gone were hues of yellow, and orange and red- in their place was a blue as deep as any ocean, kept from black by only by a fading light. The broad boulevards which stretched into the distance were sparser than before, despite their open beauty. Every once in a while, the glow of a dim lamp would catch his eye; for some odd reason, a handful of these quasi-streetlights would catch flame a bit earlier than all of the others, which otherwise would not begin to flicker until after the sky had gone completely dark. Whatever reasons the inhabitants of this town might have had for deserting the nighttime streets and alleys, it could at least be said that a fear of the dark would never be one of them.

His eyes snapped back to the girl at once as her words recalled him from his daze. Fortunately, she both looked and sounded as if she were enjoying her dish; and not only that, but also the night as a whole. "If you're talking about those fifteen loaves they gave you when you first signed in, I chucked those those into the woods on my first day outside of town," he said, matter-of-factly. Partly out of frustration and partly out of a misinterpretation on the constraints of inventory space, those earlier days seemed so far and forgotten. It had been a different time. 

But as she thanked him, he noticed the way her sentiments had not rolled off her tongue quite as smoothly as they had before, as if they had gotten caught up somewhere before leaving her lips. With a smile, he answered, "I'd be lying if I said I haven't enjoyed it all. After all, I haven't had a night like this in long, long time." Azide paused to swirl the wine in his glass, before downing a second sip. "Days like this? I almost forget that I'm in Aincrad- and even when I remember, the realization comes with a more muted sting. After all... we wouldn't be here right now, if it hadn't been for our circumstances." He blinked, then raised a hand to clutch the back of his neck. "Besides, it's a bit early to thank for the night, don't you think? The night's still young."

So, she too had yet to meet the enigmatic man of legend? The news came as no shock to Azide, who himself had only made contact with Heathcliff through a handful of messages, and little more. Strangely enough, the man had never even attended a single raid meeting as far as anybody could remember, and scarcely ever offered himself up to the public eye. Thus, Azide was left without even an adequate mental image with which to associate to the name. He could only guess that this Heathcliff was either fiercely cautious, or an individual who deeply treasured his own privacy. 

At the woman's modest declaration, he shook his head softly, a smile clinging to his lips. "Luck would be if I were to slap someone around a couple times with this thing here," he started, tapping his fingers lightly against the leather sheath, "and end up activating paralysis half a dozen times in a row." Pausing to roll his shoulders, he then clasped his hands together behind his back before pacing back and forth at a leisurely pace. In his mind's eye, flashes of the young lady's brilliance remained sharp and alive. Opal had not only leveraged a nigh-untouchable speed for the purposes of evading his strike, but had also used it in order to capitalize on the miss with a series of cleanly executed slices and slashes.

He stopped, and turned his head to the lady as a hand slid down to press against his hip. "If you're not planning on giving yourself some credit, then I'll be glad to pick up the slack, if only just this once. What you did today was plenty impressive, all things considered." The opposite hand was raised, his slender fingers curled inward as his gaze flocked to the sight for a brief moment, before returning to meet the golden eyes of Opal. "After all, an eleven level deficit is nothing to sneeze at, especially at the point you're at now. So yeah, I'd say  you did pretty well."

Opal expressed that she had nowhere to be at the moment, and he answered with a solemn nod. From the hand on her neck, something about her demeanor struck him as off-balance, although by no stretch could he claim to have known her for any significant length of time. His head gave a slight tilt at her next assertion. "Actually, I used to be a rapier user back in the day. I'd probably still be one today, if I hadn't gotten caught up in a five month hiatus. You could say that the dagger was a natural choice for someone who'd lost confidence in his skills with a rapier- fast, hits hard." He shrugged. "As for this talk of rogues, I'll admit I'm not the most familiar with some of this terminology. I actually wasn't much into gaming before all of this," he said, ending the words with a sigh.

As Azide finished his sip of wine, he couldn't help but notice Adelyn fiddling around with her food. At first, the sight had been something of a head-scratcher, and he had been at a loss as to what the girl might be up to. But just when he'd been ready to dismiss this as some sort of American oddity, it occurred to him that she was mixing the pasta as if it were a salad. Thinking quickly, he peeked beneath the table, provoking a soft hiss from his serpentine companion. No words were exchanged, but Lucifer had departed at once regardless, disappearing once more down the steps of the Starlight Cafe.

"I'm pretty sure you're probably a little hungrier than I am," he remarked, lifting up his fork by the end of its handle. Extending his hand towards the girl, he shook it gently, evoking memories of the classic schoolyard trick. Even to this day, the motion still made it look as if the fork were truly made out of rubber. "Take it," he said, stilling his fingers. "I've already sent for our server, so I'll have another one up here before I know it. Heck, he'd probably give me a dozen if I asked." The silverware glinted in his hand as he waited for it to be claimed by his guest and company.

The crimson glow died at the end of his blade, and lifted his head as system notification popped up above his head and crowned him as the victor. If that were the only thing hanging over his head, then all would have been fine and dandy- but of course, it was not. Was it really such a clean win? His massive advantage as the initial aggressor had been wasted, and the flub had ended up costing him a hefty fraction of his health. Not only that, but it had been requested beforehand that no stunning Arts were to be used for the duration of their duel; he found himself wondering how things might have turned out had this stipulation not been in place.

Shadows still lingered at the edges of his eyes, but he urged his lips into a conscious smile. "I think you mentioned that not too long ago, actually," he remarked, offering a dry chuckle. He twirled the dagger in-hand once between his fingers before returning the weapon to its sheath. "You had my heart racing there," continued Azide, lifting his eyes from his hip back to the woman before him. "So really, the honor was mine." Instinctively, he extended his hand under the assumption that it would be met with a timely clasp and shake, lifting a brow when no such gesture came.

Deciding to let the faux pas go, he carried his hand up this face and brushed aside rogue strands, as if it had been his intention all along. His gaze drifted left and right, expecting his would-be leader to make a sudden appearance at any moment, but nothing of the sort occurred. "By any chance, did the Commander happen to tip you off as to what would happen upon the duel's conclusion?" 

Any day where his opponent survived even a single round was a bad day indeed; with exactly zero points invested in mitigation, Azide was about as glassy as cannons could get. He could not afford to let the duel drag on, lest the woman spot further holes in his defenses. Such a scenario would put a swift end to their solemn encounter, and he could not even begin to imagine the disappointment that would arise from such a careless loss. To allow even a single hit more would be throwing away the match in its entirety; he had not shown up here today in order to lose. 

For a moment, he had nearly collapsed- his knees had nearly buckled under the sear and the sting of the girl's blade. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that the sensation was more mental than anything- that the system did not transmit the sensation in earnest. "But that's a stupid thing to point out," he thought, reflecting through gritted teeth. "All sensations are inherently mental by nature..."

Shaking off the phantom twinges, Azide whipped himself around on his heels, refusing to allow his opponent the satisfaction of capitalizing on a cross-up. For all he cared, she could bounce all over and flip to hear heart's content if she desired; the question was: was she capable of doing any of these things more quickly than he could execute a simple turn? They would soon be finding out.

Grounded boots went untethered as the young man sprang forward, leaving behind a wake of scattered dust. A staccato series of thuds clattered across the pavement as he reduced the short distance to nil in a matter of moments. With Opal on the defensive, he raised Chemikaze, so that the knife inherited its usual shade. With a seemingly haphazard swing, a thin line was left trailing across the woman's cheek as the point of the dagger grazed her skin.

To those unfamiliar with the intimacies of the dagger, it might have appeared that his attack had whiffed, with the swing continuing its arc onward and away. But rather than ending there, the quick rotation instead flowed into a pair of spinning kicks, each one placed in anticipation of an inevitable counterattack.

35376: Rolling | BD: 7 + 3 (ACC) + 1 (Concentration) - 4 (Evasion) = 7 (Hit)

Shadow Stitch (3x2) (10) = 60 DMG

Azide | 108/133 HP| 25/32 EN (+1)(-6)
Half-Loss Duel ends at 66 HP or less.
Opal | 40/80 HP (-60) | 15/20 EN
Half-Loss Duel ends at 40 HP or less. Duel has ended.

Like a spider, Azide was confident that he had managed to weave a web from which Hirru could not escape. Some might call it borderline torture, or even sadistic- but he received no twisted pleasure from the act. Rather, it was a more tactical decision than anything. He listened to the crowd, but could hardly call the droning decipherable in the least; all of the buzz resembled that of a busy hive more than it did a busy gathering of people. Still, he wondered if some of those murmurs might be relaying the details of this little scuffle. Did they notice his repeated usage of stun? Or perhaps they were even impressed by his damage output. After all, they had not seen him strike against the Forsaken Crusader.

But then again, nobody had- the Crusader had been toppled before he had even gotten a chance. Of course, this meant that only three people in all of Aincrad had ever seen the full extent of his capabilities: Ariel, Jomei, and Takao. As it just so happened, the first and the last in that list were among the names he'd seen listed on the bracket as participants. But those two aside, both the crowd and the other combatants were none the wiser; for all they knew, he was a stun-locker who had only unlocked perhaps the third level or so of his Sword Arts. All there was left to do was to hope that these whispers reached the ears of the other combatants, so that he might at least maintain the element of surprise. 

In the meantime, there was Hirru: his body stood rigged, unmoving. Azide caught the blade Chemikaze between his fingers, halting the twirling knife mid-spin. With his grip reversed, he slashed at Hirru once, then reverted to a more standard hold before slashing a second time in the reverse direction. 

ID: 35375 | BD: 5 + 3 (ACC) = 8 (Hit)

Side Bite (2x1) (10) = 20
20 - 5 (MIT) = 15 DMG

Azide | 429/429 HP | 11/31 EN (+1)(-2)
Hirru | 230/369 HP (-15) | 16/16 EN 

[Concentration Cooldown: 2/5]

For one reason or another, Opal had felt it necessary to change directly before their engagement- and in his full view, no less. But to be fair, her change of clothing had been tucked underneath that sweater the whole time, although that somehow did little to make the gesture any less revealing. If anything, he could guess that the young lady was at least very comfortable in her own skin, and that was admirable enough. But he was not here today to hand out medals for healthy self esteems.

As was the case with Heathcliff himself, there was little he could claim to know about Opal, other than the fact that she'd expressed a desire for the very same position that he himself had been eyeing. It had come as a shock when he'd received word that some other player also coveted the rank of Vice Commander; as far as he could tell, the post had been abandoned ever since Ryujin had deserted the Knights all of those months back. Since then, both the title and guild had faded back in obscurity, but it had survived all the same.

And here he was now, about to jump in blind against an opponent he knew nothing about. It was unlike him, he thought, to dive headfirst into such a complete enigma. For all he knew, Opal could be the proud grandmaster of nine skills, and he a lowly scourge with but a single grandmastering under his belt. His eyes narrowed on the woman with hair the color of ravens, and eyes so deep that he could probably drop a pebble through their openings and never hear a splash or plop. But if there were somebody out there like that, he was confident that they would have crossed his radar well before today.

The timer hit zero, and he was gone. An instant later, Azide appeared before the lady in black, a gleaming knife entrenched firmly within his grasp. But for all of his initiative, all of his precision, he was too slow; perhaps not absolutely, but for that moment, the humbling fact had been a simple truth. 

ID: 35373 | BD: 5 + 3 (ACC) - 4 (EVA) = 4 (Miss)

Azide | 133/133 HP| 30/32 EN (-2)
Half-Loss Duel ends at 66 HP or less.
Opal | 80/80 HP | 20/20 EN
Half-Loss Duel ends at 40 HP or less.

A long and drawn out whistle lingered on his lips as the parting night sky gave birth to a monstrosity of absolutely mind blowing proportions. "That's one big bird," said Azide, allowing himself a single understatement for their dizzying predicament. Even then, he had to slip the remark in between the constant droning generated by the beating of the creature's heavy and numerous wings. Moreover, visibility had already been bad enough with the thin light of the moon shining down on them. With Ziz blotting out the hanging crescent entirely, he knew he would have to make every last hit really count. 

As Ziz descended upon them, talons bared and ready to kill, Azide leapt out of the way and landed with a controlled tumble. As he raised himself to his feet, he shot a quick thumbs up to both Calrex and Rebekah, gleaning that his party mates had also managed to escape the airborne beast's wrath. With the former landing a formidable blow against the towering avian and the latter bogged down by a fowl wind, Azide bared a talon of his own, drawing the dagger from his sheath in one smooth motion. 

But before he could even take another step, he found himself sent sliding back on the heels of his feet as a battering gust caught him flat-footed. "A little setback," he shouted, battling the howl of the raging winds, his arms crossed and braced ahead of him. "But I'll be back and ready to go in no time, just do what you guys do best!"

ID: 35300 | CD: 2 (Blown back)

BD: 5 + 3 (Acc) - 1 (Low light) = 7

Party HP
Azide 129/129, EP 29/31(-2) 
Calrex 177/177, EP: 32/43
Rebekah 126/126, EP: 27/29

Ziz 450/500

For some reason, her Americanism did not surprise him very much; with light blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Japanese had more or less been out of the running from the start. Despite Sword Art Online being a Japanese game, there seemed to have always been an abundance of Americans in Aincrad, at a population which was disproportionately higher than one might expect. Japanese and American- these were the two cultures in which most of the front-liners had hailed from. Of course, there were always a few exceptions, such as the Australian Mari, or the British Tristan Delaney; even he himself could be counted in those numbers, as one of the few Canadians in this little world. 

His lips curved into a slight, yet lopsided frown as the girl dropped a passing reference to being an avid traveler. A pang of regret zipped across his heartstrings as he was reminded of all the places he had not gotten to visit. "Americans are fine by me," he started, bringing himself to smile once more. "After all, you guys do make most of the movies we watch, along with the books we read, and the music we listen to..." he trailed off with sigh, more in jest than anything.

It was only as she'd mentioned it that he realized nighttime was quickly approaching, and the sun was no longer quite as high as he'd remembered. Had time really passed by so quickly? It was like that old adage... "Times flies by when you're having fun," he said, realizing that the words had been said aloud only after he'd spoken them. Scratching briefly at his cheek, he brushed aside his little comment and reached across the table to clink Adelyn's glass with his own. "Cheers," he said, before taking a generous sip of the cool concoction, hearing in his head the ghost of an old song.