Toothpick

Toothpicked instinctively chewed at nothing, cursing himself for not refilling on his namesake as he glanced back to the newcomers. Huh “They stand out,” he commented when only Kaluluwa could hear, unsure of what to think of a person who deemed it ideal to dress as a maid. He rose when they drew near, walking past the bench and over delicate petals, “Welcome you two, I remember reading in one of the messages that there was a duo coming, would that happen to be you two?” He gauged their posture and expression in hopes of gaining insight on the persons within, immediately struck with the impression that the maid’s choice of clothing wasn’t merely a fashion statement, “Either way, please, sit, and if you have any questions, ask away, we will start soon. I am Toothpick, and over friend over there,” he gestured to Paglikha, “prefers to be called by ‘Kaluluwa’, his real name.”   

((OOC:Hmm? Not at all. That was all just Toothpick talking)) 
 ((OOC's Twin: Anywho, off to post)) 

The goblin was more delicate with his approach, holding the butt end of the mace out infront him, boots sliding across the ground, and closer to their target. His brow raised at the purple flame enveloping Toothpick, looking back the spectating human once he realized it’s source. He knew Ssendom would be an issue of his own, but in due time, and only then; he seemed apathetic. “SHUT UP~” The archer giggled, and Toothpick wanted to agree, but behind every word was experience, in message and purpose; he wouldn’t shun either, even if testosterone pumped through him. The two circled each other, weaned off the notion of a blind charge thanks to the events prior. Seeing an opportunity, the goblin swung upwards and diagonally as with a quicker step than before, his smile dulled. Toothpick dodged, nearly tripping, only catching himself because of the previous failure. The goblin thrusted, and Toothpick sidestepped, scooping the scimitar up from the ground as he did, and taking an arrow to the arm for his efforts. Both of them paused to glare at the archer, who giggled nervously, her the arrow vanishing as it was born, in blue.

~~~

Mace Goblin
HP: 4/8
Damage: 6
MD: 4 (Miss)
ID# 37063

Toothpick
HP: 8/12
Damage: 1+3
BD:2 (Failure)
ID# 37064

Archer Goblin
HP: 5/5
Damage: 2+2
MD: 10 (Perfect)
ID# 37068
Passive: Night vision +1 MD in the dark
Passive: Archer's Respite As long as 1 action range from target is maintained, +1 MD (unfulfilled)
Passive: 2-Finger Taunt  Spawns 1 action range away from players

“Agreed,” he rose from the bench, one last lingering glance for the bench, and he followed. “Popular? Even so, I probably haven’t seen it, even those who live here miss out on abit, I would know; spent a lot of time on the first floor, know it like the back of my hand, yet, even the Starting city mystifies me. It winds and turns in ways that...are..strange.” He left the thought there, the uncanny feeling that they were going through one of those many ‘turns’ washing over him. Regardless, it soon released it’s hold over him, and the welcoming decor of the ramen shop embraced him. Toothpick slid into his seat, glancing over the two other patrons before looking back up to the menu, listening to Shizuka’s explanation as his eyes scanned for the select few keywords he knew he could trust, “I’ll have the Beef & Veggie stew myself.”

(OOC: I swapped the order of their attacks to ensure continuity, but the Archer Goblin still has the 3rd roll, and the Club, the first. It didn't make sense to make it so that the club goblin successfully attacked first when he was distanced from Toothpick) 

The rage urged him to finish a job left undone, the goblin propping himself on his elbow and staring at Toothpick with a sly grin, waiting. The fading blue slash-mark clashing with green was enough to set Toothpick on edge, and in moment of indecision between his logical side and the red, the flash of blue, and an arrow. Toothpick swung with primal fervor once again, and surprisingly, caught the arrow by its tip. Alas, the recoil got the better of him, and his sword was sent flying, one short cry all it made when bronze hit rock. His friend cheered him on with a high-pitched giggle, his green hand gripping the club tight, and kicking off from the ground, breaking into a charge towards the human. Toothpick saw him as he approached, dodging his first swing with a backstep, and the second with a side, the two dancing their way closer to the Archer, who paused and watched in amusement. The goblin was unrelenting, and Toothpick, inexperienced, and as such, the back of his boot’s heel met a sturdy rock. He fell. The goblin swung down, Toothpick rolled away, and the club was swiped at Toothpick’s exposed back with the clack of wooden tip grinding against solid rock before the eventual connection. The spikes bore into his back, and Toothpick was knocked ragged. Instead of pressing the advantage, the goblin slammed the butt of his club down to the ground, leaning into it like a cane, smiling. Her finger rose to the bowstring, and he glanced back at her as he heard it, raising his hand into an open palm, she blinked at him, confused, then complied, lowering her bow. Toothpick grunted, pushing himself off the ground, some muted faucet of his senses had felt that blow. “I’ve got YOUR back human~” the green smirked, raising his club into a two-handed grasp. And I’ll get yours Toothpick dusted himself off, glancing to the archer She wont follow orders for long He rose his fists up unarmed, scimitar, same amount of damage His foe snickered, his health bar glowed red, and the purple light drew near one more hit like that

(OOC's Twin: I'll leave the healing to Ssendom) 

~~~

Toothpick moved closer to Archer Goblin

Archer Goblin
HP: 5/5
Damage: 2
MD: 2+1+1 (Failure)
ID# 36957
Passive: Night vision +1 MD in the dark
Passive: Archer's Respite As long as 1 action range from target is maintained, +1 MD
Passive: 2-Finger Taunt  Spawns 1 action range away from players

Toothpick
HP: 4/12
Damage: 1+3
ID# 36956

Mace Goblin
HP: 4/8
Damage: 6+2
MD: 10 (Perfect)
ID# 36955

“What do I mean?...” he almost stopped himself there, unsure of Shizua’s overall desire to continue down that train of thought, but he respected her enough not to baby her. “Well, what I mean is that this ‘world’ only matters because of what's up there, past the closest point to home,” he said plainly, arm falling by his side as he did. “For example, If we were brains in a jar inserted into a program and told we were human, each with unique ‘memories’, beating the 100th floor wouldn’t matter, infact, it would harm us if we did. There’s nothing waiting out there for us, assuming we were told only one lie. Like the NPC’s, and the Mob’s, we would fade, or the cycle might just repeat. I mean, that's definitely not our situation, but who knows for certain? I don’t,” he shrugged, “do you?” He drummed his fingers against the armrest, “But yeah, I’d be up fr some ramen, haven’t had that in a while,” he suspected he knew what booth Shizua was referring to, but the city always surprised him.

“Figures,” Toothpick turned on a pivot, eyes flicking to the phoenix for a moment, before darting over to the green that was revealed by it’s light. A goblin clad in a tattered cloak of a dusty brown, hands wrapped about a wooden stick, barbed with spikes, and just as weathered as his attire. His left ear twitched, his smile widened, “Humans~” he spoke through snickers, a sideways glance aimed at Ssendom, to the darkness, then back to Toothpick. Sentient? Toothpick would’ve said something, “....” The goblin’s smile grew, mace-hand raising behind it’s back, and mace pointed towards Toothpick, and diagonally upwards, obviously telegraphing a horizontal swing. “TAKE THIS!~” The goblin charged, Toothpick tensed up, ready to react. When the goblin neared, Toothpick backstepped, and the steadfast smile winked, horizontal swing revealed to be a thrust as diagonal jolted down into straight, and forward towards fragile ribs. ah Sentient With artificial instinct, Toothpick rebounded from the backstep with blade glowing red and swinging upwards with speeds faster than him and the twist of his torso. What normally would’ve hit, didn’t, and steadfast smile widened, it’s mace knocked up in the air with the red, but the red did not fade, instead, it flowed. Following it’s momentum, it curved up until it went down behind what was once Toothpick’s backside, and horizontally, towards the smile’s side. Using it’s own momentum, the smile turned a one handed grip into a two-handed, twirling on it’s foot, and using the miniscule of time left to brace itself. The red clashed, and slid off the mace, smile unharmed, and red steadfast. Before he could fully recover, the red curved up and down again, swinging in a circle this time, and knocking the unguarded goblin back into the air and back, a slash mark up his belly, and a giggling countenance. The goblin skidded across the ground, sliding before Ssendom’s boots, back to the ground, mace in hand, cloak ruined, and belly exposed. The goblin looked up to meet Ssendom’s eyes, pearly whites showing, and green skin with a violet hue, “Heya!~” The red faded, and Toothpick looked down to his blade Sword art? but how?  A new, blue light gleamed in a singular moment of brightness against Toothpick’s back, illuminating the rock wall before him with his double shadow. Instinctively, Toothpick swung the scimitar horizontally, spinning to face his backside in the hopes of catching whatever was approaching in the chest. Whiz, and clang, Toothpick’s arm flying back and grip on the Scimitar weakening, if only for a moment. An arrow with a shattered tip recoiled back, landing a few feet infront of him, a faint blue light dying within it. The goblin looked to the darkness once again, but it was not empty, a pair of white eyes and bow. it can use Skills A new smile, it rose it’s spare hand up, index and middle finger bunched together and pointed upwards, the rest bunched up in a fist, and bow held at her side by her left. She was dressed in pillaged clothing, “COME AND GET IT!~”

~~~

(OOC: Welp, first combat post) 

Mace Goblin
HP: 4/8
Damage: 6
MD: 2 (Failure)
ID# 36861

Toothpick
HP: 12/12
Damage: 1+3
BD: 7+1-1 (Hit)
ID# 36869

Archer Goblin
HP: 5/5
Damage: 2
MD: 2+1+1 (Failure)
ID# 36870
Passive: Night vision +1 MD in the dark
Passive: Archer's Respite As long as 1 action range from target is maintained, +1 MD
Passive: 2-Finger Taunt  Spawns 1 action range away from players

Toothpick will be taking this quest with the assistance of Pick 

“Well, it’s not really a ‘shop’, but I’m taking up the fisher profession. From what I understand, it’s a cruel trade, but I’ll weather through somehow,” subtle subconscious gestures complemented his words, right palm half-flexing. Hearing the oh-so-familiar Mat Farmer mantra drew a warm chuckle on his part, which settled into a reminiscent smile, “ ‘never stop farming’, were you a farmer too? Or has the phrase spread ever since I heard it last?” He shrugged, “Either way, I’ll make sure to stockpile. I’m already decent as farming, as you can imagine.”

“Understandable, I’ll take your advice to heart,” he knew debating about the value of his efforts was pointless, so he conceded. Alvin was proof enough that he could’ve done more, and Alvin was proof enough that he could be more optimistic. His eyes followed as Shizuka moved to the bench, arm retracting from the ridge of the backrest and to his side as her back met with what was once his roost. He leaned further into the armrest, looking straight ahead, and into the clouds that awaited at the other end.  Silence, and then, Toothpick’s voice, “Do you see the ridge of the skybox? You can see it perfectly from here,” he pointed to a corner in the sky, then to another, reality, clouds, blue, all bending at 90 degrees in every plane. “Life lies beyond.”

The Tobacco pipe spouted no fumes, yet it stuck out of Toothpick’s mouth regardless, it’s shaft the perfect subject to gnaw on. While he didn’t choose to make F2 the center of operations for his profession, it still remained one of his favorite floors, hence why it was there that he chose to go on a walk. A simple Mat farming stroll, nothing out of the ordinary, save for the hills. Toothpick prefered the peaking mountains over the hills on most days, but that day felt special, and thus, he trekked through grassy hills, rather than rocky paths. His path was uncharted, and potentially dangerous, but he didn’t mind, overconfident thanks to his recently purchased whip. Cloth flapped in the wind as his clothing fluttered, shirt parting from belt to reveal a dark brown belly, if only for a moment. He eyed a boar grazing a few meters away as he walked past, clutching the whip from its sheath, it snorted, and he loosened up. Another player was revealed to him as he walked around the slope of a hill from which they stood, they didn’t notice him, but he noticed them. “What is he…..” Toothpick muttered, he’d never seen anyone roll down a hill before, let alone with a ramp. He approached, “Are you ok?” the pipe bounced in his lip’s grip.  

Toothpick contorted the whip in a few quick movements, the chain wrapping about his palm, which quickly closed to trap it in, a trick he’d observed from a Grandmaster. Rising the clenched fist up for Teayre to see, he rotated the gleaming white metal about as to give her a better angle, hand falling as he closed the distance. “Yeah, I got myself a whip, now that I’m actively involving myself in combat, it was about time that I picked something out. A pure AOE build isn’t bright, in my opinion, and Katana’s simply don’t appeal to me,” he shrugged, glancing down to her hand as it gripped at a hilt. Katana. And why? “No, no, it’s fine, the end result is just the same, and I get myself some free SP while I’m at it.”  He stopped before he drew uncomfortably close, looking briefly to the paths ahead, “Not much has happened though, I mean, I made some money charting out routes for a guild, but all of that went into getting replacement fishing rods, damn things break too fast…….fishing is a cruel profession.” He paused, then turned back to her with a jolt, “Oh! speaking of which, you mind trading me the Charm? I wanna try my hand at finding some Mats while we walk.”

“Honesty, accuracy, may they both be damned to the spicy hell that was my tounge,” already, the effects of the potion broke through in his voice. He wiped the last dribblets of potion off his lips with his clean hand, shaking the other clean of it’s taco as he listened. How is this even possible?.....such a baseless anger, Kayaba was doubtlessly a genius “You wont need to do anything but watch my back, I’m not the emotionally unstable teenager, wouldn’t be here if I was,” Toothpick unsheathed his scimitar, audible click, and brief reflection of light. The last traces of true light died down, replaced by a hollow glow, pierced by bloodshot eyes. They walked, the trickle of water soon reverberating against the walls. The convening snickers of an unseen mob followed, “We have company, though you already know that,” he twirled the blade in his grip. “You speak as if I’m your test dummy, is that true?” Toothpick scanned the dark for the threats in question, blade twirling to a halt.   

Setting up on the bridge, and bringing the crystal near for some music the pass the time, Toothpick hoped for the best as he drew back the line, and let loose. He spent the time waiting with the rod gripped inbetween his thighs, jazz mixing with the sounds of nature, his rear end on the stool, and a pipe in his mouth. Alas, Toothpick’s fortunes were not as bright as they were on his first catch, while he thought he could only go up when he fished out a boot on a floor where there should be none in the water, it only got worse when a dastardly catfish snapped his rod in two with the slightest of tugs. “Yay…” he muttered sarcastically.

~~~

First Attempt ~ An Uncommon Soggy Boot [+1 EXP][-1 Mat]
|LD: 3+1|CD: 8|MD:6|

Second Attempt ~ A Medium Sized, Bad Fish, who broke le~rod [+1 EXP][-1 Mat]    
|LD :16+1|CD:3|MD:9|

Total

-1 Rod, 2 Mats 
+2 Exp 

“They don’t seem that intimidating to be honest, but their stats tell another story….” Toothpick mused to himself, watching as the Ostrich scittered off, wondering why it trotted back to it’s friends, rather than push the advantage. Figuring it was merely the the “easy AI” of certain F1 mobs, he returned to a thoughtless spectation, Seul’s fight was beginning to prove rather interesting. Seeing the once failure so successfully pull off a sword art, it filled Toothpick with a determination, a hope for his own attempts to master a weapon, he knew he could pull through. With the fight over, however, he had other things to focus on, turning back to the tree only to find it was completely devoid of berries, the ostrich from before now at his tree. While he watched Seul, it had eaten away at the berries, and with the same rules of resource depletion applying to mobs, had emptied it’s branches, only to leave for greener pastures. “Well damn.” He muttered, then Seul’s voice, he looked back to it, “Yeah, it’s not just ostrich food though, this stuff works pretty well as fish bait, according to the grapevine. As a soon to-be fisherman, that piques my interest…..Speaking of interest, what exactly are you doing here? These guys drop almost nothing save for the occasional mat, and they’re so out-of the way too.” He returned the stare of an ostrich that was glaring at him over Seul’s back, the bird quickly averting it gaze due to boredom, “There’s got to be better ways to spend your time.”

~~~

ID# 36739
LD: 7+1

think like Toothpick’s face lit up as it’s owner huffed in a short-lived laughter, Well, at least I didn’t upset her “Oh trust me, I’m neither a slacker, nor a sulker. As I see it, with work, comes respite…...in that sense, coming here was a bad idea, put me in a sorrid mood. Nonetheless, thank you. I probably needed that….speech. Though,” he leaned back to look at her, adding with a smile, “Let it stand I never said anything in regards to human interactions, and…..also….. ” he gestured at the very bird’s Shizuka had pointed to earlier, “You have a point in saying that Sao’s so-called beauty should be viewed more on it’s face value rather than whats lays behind, leads to less stress.” He pointed towards the edge, “However, forgetting about that is just as bad as stressing out, ignorant bliss can only lead to an eventual crash, not that you didn’t already know...but..” He shrugged, “ ‘Pointless speech’, as you would put it?”  

Fisherman Rank/Details

Rank 1~Young Fisher~[19/40]
2 Crafts per day

LD Result Chart (Determines what type of enhancements catch can, or cannot receive)  

Spoiler

[1] = Catch a soggy boot that disappears instantly
[2-10] = Catch a soggy boot
[11-14] = Catch a dead, rotting fish
[15-16] = Catch a small fish
[17-18] = Catch a medium fish
[19] = Catch a large fish
[20] = Catch a monster fish

 

CD Result Chart (Determines how many slots catch can receive)

Spoiler

[1] = Bad quality, falling apart (lose fish)
[2-4] = Bad quality
[5-7] = Good quality
[8-9] = Uncommon quality (1 enhancement)
[10-11] = Rare quality (2 enhancements)
[12] = Perfect quality (3 enhancements)

 

MobD Result Chart (Only applicable if fish is too big for rank. Determines if Rod/Catch is lost)

Spoiler

[1-5] = Fish is caught without an issue
[6-8] = Fish gets away, lose bait
[9] = Fish gets away, line breaks (new fishing rod needs to be purchased)
[10] = Fish gets away, line breaks, and rod smacks Toothpick in the face? (Damage = Level x 2)

 

~~~~

Pricing System 

As for now, Barter (Not to steal your Thunder Kal)
Each catch is valued on a case-by-case basis, rather than "one shoe fit all" prices.

~~~~

Stock

Spoiler

Name of Catch: Verile Trout

ID# 37538

Rolls~

LD: 17+1
CD: 11

MD: 1

Catch Size: Medium

Quality: Rare

Quantity: 1

Enhancements: Electrolytes (4+ Energy Per Turn, Combat)

Description: A trout that was once filled energy, potential, and hope. That potent virility pumps through those who consume the Verile Trout, renewing their hope of escape. One can only hope they do not meet the same fate as the trout. A pink streak down it's side, black dots over shiny skin, and a gasp of desperation. Stagnant.

~~~

 

~~~~

Order Form
(Bad fishing mechanics make these troublesome, but they will be attempted none-the-less)

~~~~ 

EXP

A small path, barely made out among the thick greenery of floor 6, broke off from the main road leading out of Amazon. It whisped it's way about the stone pillars erected for some odd reason and into the thick of the jungle.While the sounds of mobs was ever present, and at times, even their forms, none dared approached path for another just as mysterious reason, to some. Those who bothered to study the agro zones of F6 would find that that very path wormed it's way through any danger, day or night, alas, most did not bother to even follow the path. Past spiraling trees and thick roots, the path soon lead to a small forest of bamboo, the path’s girth widening as it cut through. Depending on the hour of day, one might hear the soft melody of some musician's artwork as they neared, the slight graininess making it clear that it was a crystal playing, rather than a player, or NPC. Oddly enough, no monsters seemed to frequent the bamboo, only the sounds of birds, the woosh of wind, and at times, the aforementioned music accompanying the curious mind. The bamboo curved inwards towards a core yet to be revealed, and stones riddled the sidelines of path considerably. The grass grew low, and while it tread upon the path, one could even see dirt as they walked.

Then the hut, chassis made of bamboo, roof of straw, and propped on tiny stilts with tiny stairs of log to lead into the doorway with only a blue curtain closing it. Small, glassless, windows whose arches’ tips were on level with the main entrance's were placed on intervals about the curved side of the hut. The hut itself was placed on a peninsula of sorts, it's back end pointed towards a dense patch of bamboo inaccessible through the path, all it's other ends facing a shore not too far away. A river flowed around and past the small, grassy, plot of land the hut rested on, going to the left and out of sight. The path opened up and stopped at the grassy shore, the river splitting apart path from hut. The water was deep, and fish could be seen swimming underneath, the green light reflected off the bamboo giving it a murky tint, at times.

A bridge of logs continued where the path left off, wide enough to fit two people, and with wooden railings green with moss. A singular stool rested behind the wooden railing, and salting rack near the front of the hut. The rack was home to Toothpick's statless catches, and more than a few would be snatched up by hungry birds, but he didn't mind.
 

Within the hut and past the curtain, one would find a small table which could host four bodies in the immediate center of the room. A solitary chair sat adjacent to the wide side of the table, which faced the door, all the necessary tools needed to gut a fish splayed out near and on the wooden cutting board that rested on the table. The stains of washed away blood and guts splattered the table, and the stench would've overwhelmed the room were it not for the incense pot also on the table. Black and clay, the a woody smoke wafted into the air, the scent subtle, but enough to defeat fishy repulsiveness. A sleeping mattress with a pile of books next to it to the right and a locked icebox to the left. Looking back to the entrance, one would find a picture of a mossy green catfish framed onto the wall above the curtain. If Toothpick happened to be present, a blue recording crystal could be found on the box, the source of the music. Toothpick himself could either be found at the table, or fishing away at the bridge

"Hello, surprised you found this spot....but, how can I help you?"

 Toothpick savored his silence, watching the faces file by and go about their business as if the store was a bustling city. It reminded him of home. He tapped a few buttons, the whip appearing in a flash of pixels. He heaved the silver thing in his grip, awe struck by it's weight. A dim blue glean shined off it's surface I will live or die by this He reserved to clip it to his belt, where an appropriate holster had invited itself. He looked up to Teion, "Keeping busy I see, planing on opening up a store myself pretty soon. Any advice for a novice like me?"

(I hope you don't mind If I try for a small RP in-store :y)

“Smile?”  he spat, “There is nothing to ‘smile’ about. Yes, the cage the is pleasant for the eyes, yes, the misery is collectively spliced and divied up among many, I can appreciate that. I would likely go insane if either facts weren’t true. None-the-less, behind it all is death. Kayaba made Sao with full understanding that he would kill people, drive some insane, ruin lives. Am I to smile as prisoner does when he's offered his last meal? ‘The steak is absolutely di-vine!’ ” he shouted, then paused. “Is that how I should see it!? ‘The peace of a lucid dream is contenting’-if we never escape, that is all Sao is…..” He would’ve said more, but he caught himself, half surprised with the outburst himself. He sighed, “I am ‘active’, and I have seen ‘wonders’, however, I do like to remember….home, my beginnings in Sao. That is what brings me here. This is the site of the first truth death, Alvin, a player who decided to test the system and leap off the edge of Aincrad.” He looked back towards the edge, the wind blew to meet him, the emotion that once flared within him gone, leaving to question if it ever was “Sometimes I wonder if he’s truly dead

heh

imagine if death here was really just the wake-up call there, the ultimate irony.” I would personally find and wring Kayaba dead if that was the case   

The darkness gained ridges and shape, abstract lines with a dark blue gleam, dumbed down by frequent reflection. Toothpick looked for things that weren’t there, but only a hollow sound, and Ssendom’s voice. “Bland? Better than dead, though it wasn’t a ‘good fight’, shouldn’t we be thankful for it’s promptness? Our numbers are only going down, after all.” He looked back to Ssendom, a shadowy form,  waving the Taco about in the air for a moment. “Oh, yeah, the road ahead-I think I’ll I eat up the Taco now, to deal with the BD deduction,” he turned back to see a dimly lit vine, winding up to the dark. The first bite, then the second, tasty and moist, then the spice, and he stopped in his tracks. It cut hot, and spread like the spicy flame of hot sauce bottles. Almost instinctively, Toothpick reach for the cask on his belt, but quickly opted to summon the potion instead, the straps too hard to undo in the dark. Silently suffering, he thumbed the cork off, gripping the bottle tight as he raised it to his lips and guzzled away, audible chugs. The sour taste sent a rumbling shiver down his spine, and while it placated the hotness, it also numbed the taco’s taste entirely. “Damn…..” A breath to recollect himself, his vision pulsing red for a moment, he looked down to the crushed remains of the Taco, squashed by his clenched fist. He tossed the empty glass aside, holding his dirtied hand up to face-level. “....You should’ve told me that your Taco was spicy as hell…..jesus…..” The respective status markers for his bonuses popped up on the interface, he payed them no mind.  

~~~

- 1 Super Spicy Taco, 1 Ssendom's Bloodrage

+ 3 Damage, 1 BD for the thread.

Draw, Snap, Draw, Snap Toothpick practiced the movements necessary for his whip as he walked the snowy path. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a sword art to register but in due time I will. For the most part, the exercises helped deal with the cold, but it’s sharp pain pierced through regardless. Despite the cold, F4 was beautiful, and he knew he’d have to explore it in depth once he had the nessicary clothing, along with that pesky “Traveler” skill. Snow fascinated him. A flash of red among white, and a familiar face, Toothpick cupped his mouth and called out, “Teayre! I’m over here!”      

Toothpick shrugged, bringing up his menu and tapping away at the interface, the pipe vanishing away into pixels; if she didn’t like it, he wasn’t going to pester her with the fumes. If there is withdrawal, it’ll be remedied by whatever hospital stay we have to endure after escaping, if we get there. “There is a possibility that you can grow addicted, but I see it as a small issue. Though trust me, I’m not missing out on anything this ‘world’ has to offer. I’ve seen places that most wouldn’t even know about, and even if my expertise is on the lower floors, I’ve seen more than my fair share of ‘sights’.” Her endless smile poked Toothpick in some uncanny way that couldn’t fathom. He figured something amazing had happened to her. “If you don’t mind me asking…….is there something you’re happy about? It’s odd to see players smile that much, especially in someplace as quiet as this,” he gestured to their surroundings, this part of the city wasn’t in the way of foot traffic.   

It’s cold A soft wind native to cliff edges blew through, carrying the smoke with it. Watching the altered path as it bounded out of sight, Toothpick realized that he had a certain affinity with benches. However, before the thought could be continued, the voice of another popped up, and Toothpick leaned back to look. Pink He blinked at her, registering her question on a slight delay. “Oh, this?” He pinched the shaft between his index and middle, pulling it out, vapors leaving his lips with the wood. “I didn’t know either-then I saw a lady smoking a cigar,” he added plainly. “Turns out, Tobacco is a drop from certain mobs, and you can get pipes from any ole’ NPC merchant at a pretty low price….do you want to try? I know you look under-aged, but so am I,” he held out the pipe for Shizuka to take with an outstretched arm, the woody sweetness of the smoke a subtle touch, “It could be either now or never, our friend Arvin proved that with style.” He had let the mirror rest on his kneecap before even turning towards Shizuka, a lingering glance at his calm expression all he had offered it before turning back to her.

Arvin, the first in-game death. Toothpick could remember it well, he himself was there to witness it. The man had a crowd of sorts following him, and the pervasive and sickening feeling that wafted from the emptiness from which Arvin plummeted rose into crowd like the stench of the dead, perhaps it was. Toothpick wanted to say he tried to stop him, and while he did, he never grabbed the player, he only offered words, like many others. Toothpick had too much waiting for him to die in a “small altercation”, as he put it in an attempt to justify his “cowardice”. Nonetheless, Arvin was dead, and Toothpick was not. The mirror he kept on his person, the cubic sky box overhead, the edge from which Arvin fell, all of these were reminders of that very fact. A bench had been erected to overlook the spot, and it was from there that Toothpick sat, one hand holding Kayaba’s gift, and the other raised to the pipe in his mouth, smell of scented tobacco wafting into the air, nullifying the “stench” that Toothpick felt to his very bone. He figured a vice that did no harm was one worth trying, and thus he puffed, reminiscing on his “newbie” days.