Toothpick

Dutifully following orders, Toothpick entered the shack, eyes straining to acclimate to the pervasive dark. Right hand tightly clasped about what must’ve been the right segment of the doorway, Toothpick noticed just how decrepit the shack was. Holes had rotted their way through the plank walls, but despite the shining sun outside, the darkness inexplainably overwhelmed any beam of light that dared pierce through before it illuminated even an inch. Abstract lines were all that could be seen, and the smell of salted fish intensified with every raspy creak brought on by a step forward. His knee bumped up against something hard, a curse being spat on his part, the sounds of a hinge snapping following shortly thereafter. Looking up to the sound’s origin, Toothpick realized that he’d bumped into a wall; he was then met with a paddle to the face. Rebounding from his fall with dexterity born from his uneasiness, he grabbed at the paddle, tossing it back out through the doorway, whose light was only enough to reveal the dirtied welcoming mat. The paddle clanked against the doorframe, only half of it landing outside. “ ‘Hooked up where you can see it’........well, no use lingering now, time for the chest,” with a sigh, he continued his search, convinced Pop-eye’s advice was practically useless.

Hrm? I'm not on a tablet, weird. 

“Yeah, I can feel it, been a while since I’ve been near water like this, feels even better thanks to the cold,” Toothpick smiled, memories of warm winter showers rushing back as he slowly dipped in, taking the time to savor the feel more than he did earlier. Once he could feel the bottom of the spring, he reached to the meal he left on the edge, pulling out one of many ribs that he’d haphazardly piled on top of his already towering meal; fortunately, the plate was large, so it was able to hold the mass without too much trouble. Taking a chomp out of one of the more sizable chunks of meat on his ribs, it’s sauce threatening to drip into the spring, Toothpick caught some movement in his peripheral. Blinking at Piera, he was certain that she would be the first of many beautiful women he saw that day, eyes trailing her steps with a blank stare, chewing in meticulously slow motions. Returning her gesture with a two fingered salute that waved the tightly cluched rib aimlessly, Toothpick glanced back to Lee, “Girlfriend, hmm? It’s always nice to see a reminder of the real world.”

 

“Grandmaster of the Crimson Blades, hmm?” With his recently acquired fishing rod toted over his back, Toothpick mulled over the message, Pop-eye’s whistles fading into the background. Toothpick knew who the Crimson Blades were, an upstart guild which barreled into the frontlines, their success spearheaded by a rather boisterous leader, according to what he heard. It explained why this “Mack” was so willing to invite both green and orange players which were uninvolved with the raid to an event catered towards those involved. Regardless, Toothpick was interested, a normal player rarely got the chance to come face to face with some of the frontliner’s, the event could give Toothpick an interesting perspective on things as they were. Not only that, but the prospect of a hearty meal was tempting to say in the least, Toothpick rarely got the chance eat well considering his status as a “noob”. Ignoring the first plus, Toothpick easily would’ve gone simply for a good meal, he never left leftovers in his wake, regardless of quantity. “I’ll have to take you up on that offer, ‘Crimson Blades’, see ya’ in a few. ” Toothpick dismissed the pop-up message, picking up his trot down the none-existent path, fishing-rod bobbing in rhythm with his gait.

~~~

After leaving the port, Toothpick met-up with a merry crew whose cheer dulled the sharp chill, and eye’s were set upon destinations in about the same area. Covered in a spare cloak borrowed from one of the 3, Toothpick found an otherwise unbearable trip to be perfectly comfortable, rife with chatter and laughter. Returning the cloak to his newly found and shortly “adeiued” friends once time came for the 4 to split, dim torchlight guided him the rest of the way. Upon arriving , he had to admit, as someone new to such splendor, he was impressed; the torchlit springs gave off a welcoming aura to the scene. Shedding his shoddy clothes for verdant trunks with a swift tap of the menu, he slinked into the main spring, wading his way over to the buffet table. After short wait, and some time spent piling up the food, he left the butt-end of the line with a plate chock-full of food and a mug which concealed spring water.
 

Not wanting to eat in or near the main spring out of fear of someone bumping into him and his meal the wrong way, Toothpick opted to move to one of the more dimly lit springs, farther away from the center of attention, the clutter. Choosing a spring practically unoccupied save for one man with only a “scandalous” towel to his name, Toothpick approached Lee, the man, with a smirk, taking a seat across from him,“Hello, be careful with the wind, I hear it’s foul….don’t mind if we share the spring, do you?”

Ah! I see, thank for the help man. 

Eye button? I don't see anything like that. Do you mean next to the emoticon button?

 

 

Naturally, just as the profession itself was rarely practiced, the path towards gaining it was obscure and distant. Fortunately for Toothpick, he already planned on pursuing the fisherman trade far before leaving his contract, and already had the property of “Pop-Eye” Thompson marked on his map. As the name alluded, “Pop-eye” was an odd NPC among many. The walk to the mark was long, strayed from the beaten path, and, were it not for Toothpick’s extensive knowledge of the first floor, would’ve certainly have included some mob encounters. Unfortunately for adversity, Toothpick was perfectly fine with taking his time, and was in no real rush; he had nothing planned after picking up the rod & string.

 

Almost habitually, Toothpick took the path of not only least resistance, but of highest gain, hoping to find a stray Mat laying around during his stroll. Toothpick, shortly after hitting the “hot-spot” with nothing to show for his efforts, arrived at “Pop-eye’s” lake. Pop-eye’s so-called property was in every sense what it sounded like, a lone, dilapidated shack of house infront of small amount of boardwalk jutting out a few yards into the crystal blue lake, both of rotting wood. The forms of fish wisped about merely inches under, the sun giving the water a pure gleam which shined off into the trees which surrounded the “property”. A wooden raft which was in surprisingly good quality was shored next to the boardwalk, and a trail of smoke which stemmed from a part of the shore that was blocked from view by the shack wafted into the air. The cheerful whistles of presumably Pop-eye, the cackle of the flames, and the soft wind were the only sounds to be heard, the animalistic chatter common to forests such as these silenced, for whatever reason.   

How do I make something collapsible, or, how do I hide text in those thin rectangles? Whats the command for it?  

Username: Toothpick

Real name: Peter Smith

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Height: 5;11

History:

Peter Smith, a lower classed, African-American, high-school student who, if he tried, could date his family tree-line back to not only the slave trade, but to a long-past African tribe whose culture is lost to a wave of modern-age industrialism. While his home-city, or better said, the neighborhood he came from needs not be named, it should be known that Peter was truly at the bottom end of the "Opportunity Gap" which had been detailed upon far before it's nation-wide recognition. Of the unfortunates, Peter was one of those who was self-aware of his predicament, and of an even smaller percentage of those who dare to try climb. However, it can be said that his methods were much more extreme, unorthodox, risky, and foolish than most, in short, an embodiment of "American" enterprise. Upon hearing of the disaster that was Sao, he was at first apathetic; not even the Nerve-Gear had penetrated his "world". No, his was that of study, dreams, and dilapidation-you see-Peter was an aspiring physicist, and he believed that he could eventually play his role in unwrapping the mysteries of the world. Alas, while Peter had the potential, he lacked the "opportunity", moreso than the average lower classed fellow. Peter himself noted how he was "the most unluckiest person he'd ever met", and even the combined efforts of his councilor and the scholarships he had access to wouldn't be enough to get him where he believed he needed to be, at least, without incurring an obscene amount of debt. Money was a huge obstacle for Peter, neither of his parents(divorced) in the position to pay any large sum of money. Unwilling to believe there wasn't a bridge over the "gap", Peter spent most of his short-lived senior year plotting his "escape route" until one day he decided to tune in on the news. Catching a broadcast centered around Sao, and through it, Peter learned of the Nerve. Mildly intrigued, he researched the topic, mild interest slowly turning into rancid excitement as Peter realized that, the lack of "opportunity" proved to be the exact opposite, an opening.

 

Once again, the "Opportunity Gap" proved itself to be the exact opposite for the opportunistic Peter allowing him to gain access to a Nerve-Gear by way of gathering it's parts from obscure vendors, and an otherwise outlandishly expensive copy of Sao from an old lady whose house he used to clean every now and then. The lady was the type to accumulate a hoard she didn't understand or acknowledge, and practically begged Peter to walk away with a few trinkets, as she thought of them, on multiple occasions. While normally he wouldn't, he was struck with an entrepreneuristic idea, a virtual reality arcade. He would rent out uses of the Nerve-gear from within his home, and slowly evolve the business, adding more games and Nerve-gears as he went along. Even the lower class had money to spend on entertainment, after all, what better to forget one's sufferings than through entertainment? Drunks were proof enough that there was nothing else readily available. Peter hoped that the profits would be the fuel for his education, may it be directly through obvious means, or indirectly, by boosting the business. Still contemplating the name for his Arcade when he took his Nerve-gear for a spin, he made the so-called "fatal link", the rest, is unwritten history. Fortunately, if he survives, his education will be guaranteed.
 

 

 

Spoiler

 

Putting on this horrid excuse of a “Nerve-gear”, I can’t help but wonder why everyone is so excited about “virtual reality”; to me it’s just a tangible dream. Our actions are only quantifiable by their effect on the real world, aren’t they? I don’t see the point of finding temporary solace in an illusion, after all, the world that is real, remains real regardless of what we impose upon it. The only way an illusion could fully and truly mater is if someone decided to live in one indefinitely, and at that point, can their life truly be "real"? "Shunning” our problems wont do us any good, that should be obvious. Maybe I would need to live another’s life to better understand the situation, but I’m sure I have a pretty solid grasp on it. Maybe my confusion is what makes me special in this town, would explain a lot. Sadly, this or that, it doesn’t mater if this thing fries my brain, hopefully I assembled it properly, hopefully Zachary (my cousin) didn’t do too much damage to the regulator. Only one way to find out, I guess.

Link Start

And like that, I fling myself to fate

~~~

 

Of the moments spent before the “event”, Peter, soon to be known as Toothpick, remembers his character creation with the most clarity. The name “Toothpick” came to him with ease, as he was practically weaned off biting his nails by his mother when she offered a toothpick as an alternative; he never stopped biting them ever since. However, what didn’t come was easily was the body, being new to gaming, he not only failed at creating a human looking character, but spent plenty of irritation fueled hours trying to do so. Toothpick wanted to take the game up for a spin, but at the same time, he didn’t want to resort to one of the default characters, as his only black skinned options were either dark elves, or completely unlike himself. In the end, he simply resorted to spamming random until it proved to work, managing to make a somewhat acceptable character, in his eyes.

 

Regardless of his thoughts on the mater, Toothpick had to admit that the “realness” of Sao was impressive, almost instantly he could sense the wind’s woosh and feel, for one. He was no expert, but it truly felt as if he was sensing Aincrad, rather than it’s data overwhelming that of reality’s. Deciding to avoid combat altogether, Toothpick spent his first moments testing out his senses. Ignoring the iconic “welcoming party quest”, he used the starting Col to wine, dine, climb, and many other forms of exploration before reclining into a wooden bench to finish it off. Shrugging off his inability to log off as some form of glitch that would hastily be fixed, he spent the calm before the storm by staring off blankly into a gorgeous fountain. Then the true game started.

~~~

 

I don’t think I can describe how I felt when the announcement was through, I mean, yes, I was pleased my original body was back, always a silver lining, but…………...hehe..........You of all people can’t hope to understand how this feels, knowing that one day, without any warning, it can all be rendered meaningless. Funny how I only truly realized that through entering this “dream”, though it can't be called that anymore, can it.....in recollection...I suppose it never could be called that, even in cases of isolation, at least, according to what I said. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a hardy person, I refuse to be on that list, and I refuse to be the last man standing. It’s just, with the challenges I had faced up to that point, there was always a path forward in case of failure, some hope. You can’t imagine how I felt when that leisure was revoked.

~~~

From there, Toothpick knew almost immediately that he had plenty of learning to do, and was in no way in a position to take up arms.Quickly finding himself a field where he could apply himself and still be of use, Toothpick fell into the employment of Conrad's Builders, a Mat farming guild led by a beta tester. Working under the guild with a way to provide for himself, he took to the books, his floor 1 contract allowing him to take it somewhat easily. Throughout the contract's duration, he studied the world of Aincrad, both the Human, and the pre-made aspects of it, hoping his knowledge would aid him greatly, and it would. When his contract was up, Toothpick left the guild equipped with an expert’s knowledge, and a newbie’s appearance. Peter bitterly noted that in a way, nothing had changed since he’d left home. Regardless, with nothing holding him back, Toothpick entered the big wide world.

 

 

 

Physical Appearance~

A Young African American male of the usual lanky build common to most adolescent, a faint scar on his right eyebrow from the time his little cousin bit him, and jet black eyes.

 

Virtues:

 

Determined~ Peter has a clear goal in mind and he'll be damned if he lets it go. While uncertain of how or why the notion got into his head, Peter has now fixated on his goal of studying the world. He is willing to tirelessly drive himself onward in pursuit of a goal, and whilst capable of listening to reason, he rarely grows disheartened. He is somewhat aware of this determination, and reacts with skepticism when told he can be extremely determined. Peter believes that rationality ensures that he can't be painted as the "determined soul", regardless of his actions. He feels obligated to help other "determined souls".

 

Respectful~ Peter learned at a very young age that not all is what it seems, that the drunk might have a heart of gold, or common thief, a family to feed. He tries not to judge a book wholly by it's cover, and treats those he encounters as he would expect for himself. He views people as human and nothing less, steadfast in his belief, as he is with most things.

 

Creative~ As a boy imbued with the entrepreneuristic spirit, Peter is most certainly a worthy of being called creative. His adaptive and quick witted nature carried him through his school years, and Peter currently stakes his life on the fact that it will do the same in Sao, despite his having little to no experience in video games. He habitually fantasizes tangents of the present date to pass the time, something he enjoys doing, as he actively tries to nurture this quality of his person. Before Sao, he messed around with a keyboard during his "me" time, trying to make familiar tunes out the garble of inexperience.

 

Analytical~ Peter is observant of the world around him, regardless of it's rules and regulations. Half the reason he even considered delving himself into the game, Peter is able to break a situation down to the bare bones facts with ease. Not only that, but he is considerably observant, and never forgets.  

 

Flaws:

 

Detached~ He finds it hard to form connections with others, never gaining the skill in his youth thanks to the constant hopping between mother, father, aunt, uncle, ect. This has lead to his being on the introverted side, enjoying the company of himself moreso than that of others, save for the few he considers himself "close" to. While his actions say otherwise, he is often the reserved member of a party, and wont speak up unless he deems it absolutely necessary.

 

Respectful~ A double edged sword, as his respect for human life is doubtlessly going to cause Peter some form of trouble, if it hasn't already. Contrasting with his analytical side, he often acts in ways he knows he shouldn't in regards to other people, willing to see past the worst, as said before. Alas, sometimes he can't break through the worse, and while he doesn't allow himself to be trampled over, Peter doubtlessly sticks out his neck for those he shouldn't.

 

Bold~ As the reader should be aware, Peter is a risk taker, assuming he sees the reward as worth the risk-he isn't one to leap into any situation for the hell of it. Regardless, the value of "worth" is relative, and once again, Peter will doubtlessly stick out his neck for something he sees of "worth", which is arguably not "worth" it. When Peter does something, he does so with conviction.

 

Skill-set

Spoiler

 

Profession: Fisherman

Skills (1/11 Skill points)

Non-combat:
» Search & Detect Rank 1

Weapon skills:
» Whip Rank 1

 

 

Inventory 

Spoiler

~ Col: 475 ~ Mats: 4
» Mossy Catfish, 2 Vitamins [ID 33947]
» Basic Fishing Rod
» Basic 1-handed Scimitar, An unremarkable scimitar of questionable build, it's hilt and blade copper, sheath, leather, and handle of cloth wrappings.
» Kayaba's Mirror

 

Equipped Gear

Spoiler

 

» Brilliant Chain [Whip, 1 Damage, 1 Paralyze]
~ The metal chain whip shines brilliantly in the sun, allowing it to blind an enemy. Its sharp, bladed edges also let it cause extra damage.

» Monster's Sacrifice [Leather Armor, 3 Mit]
~ A tattered shawl of a murky green color that goes about the neck, tight.

» Cloth Armor
~ A plain shirt and pants; were it not for the marker above his head, Peter would easily be mistaken for an NPC.

 

 

 

Roleplays (Chronological Order Timeline-wise)

» [Solo-F1][Earning a Living] Pop-eye's Wisdom ~ Completed, +400 Col, +8 Mats, +2 SP, and 1 Mossy Catfish [Vitamins 2]

» [OP-F4] Pre-Raid Relaxation ~ Incomplete, +1 SP

» [PP-F1] Of Ostriches and Kangaroos ~ In Progress

» [OP:F1] Making New Friends ~ Completed, +50 Col and 1 SP

» [PP-F2] New Friends, Old Cave [Ssendom's Group] ~ Complete ~ +1 SP, 200 Col, Monster's Sacrifice [+3 Mit]

» [PP-F2] Walkin A Path (Toothpick) ~ In Progress

» [PP-F2] Hills (Nirvana, Toothpick) ~ In Progress
» [PP-F2] A Long Time Coming ~ In Progress

» [PP:F4] Essence of Steel (Toothpick) ~ In Progress

» [PP-F1] Getting Used To This Game ~ In Progress

» [P1-PP] (Shizuka) Leap of Faith ~ Completed ~ +200 Col, 1 Sp

 

(no "in progress" means its complete; "incomplete" can mean one or the other person stopped replying for a long time)

 

Inventory Record

 

 

 

Relationships (optional)

Story Thus Far (optional)