Corvo

Reaching up to stroke his chin, Corvo assessed the woman carefully. She seemed uncertain, but her speech belied greater care than trepidation. She was walking on eggshells. That made sense. Corvo was a lot, even on his good days. He knew it better than anyone. Zuri was definitely an eclectic name. He'd never heard it before. He frowned a bit when she told him it was her real name. "Should probably be more careful with sensitive information like your real name," he told her. "Not that people in here are gonna be able to scam you or anything like that, but it's a good rule to get in the hab

She was... Corvo studied her reactions carefully as she went on the defensive, going so far as to hide her face and retreat behind formalities. Extreme shyness, almost certainly. It was clear she didn't like the absence of space he'd created, but rather than fight back, her response was to placate and become submissive. He pulled back a bit, allowing her a bit more breathing room- though he didn't actually step away. A sigh escaped him. There were many ways to handle the situation that were probably better than blowing a gasket and completely tearing into the girl, and he knew it. H

Corvo quirked a brow as she seemed to wage war internally. Her words dammed in her throat and she audibly paused, whether in hesitation or confusion, he couldn't tell. His frown returned. "Huh?" The woman's inflection, words, and mannerisms were tedious. She was being obtuse- purposefully or otherwise. It felt like she was trying to hide something, or at the very least, not being completely forthcoming with information. That was irritating in its own way, and Corvo had neither the patience nor the decorum to hide how it made him feel. Had she actually said that? Corvo took a step tow

He kept himself apprised of their surroundings as they went, noting that the woman stayed quite by and large the entire time, opting for speaking only when prudent. He knew plenty of people who struggled with social cues and situations- or at least, he knew one pretty well. She was capable of speaking a great deal better than the person he knew though, and carried herself with a fraction more intent and confidence than him. She smiled at him- that was uncharacteristic of what he'd seen so far, but they had know each other for only a minute or so. He couldn't possibly make an accurate character

His brows knitted together as he watched her expression and body language. "Eh?" Corvo blinked incredulously as the woman stammered and began to apologize. What was all that about? He was just trying to calm her down. The red-eyed blonde didn't need to be told his bedside manner was abysmal to know it, but he also wasn't overly fond of being reminded. He wore a slight frown as she spoke up. "Someone took your helmet?" he asked. "You didn't give it to them?" It seemed like a strange question, but with the way that handling inventoried items worked in SAO, the distinction was surp

It wasn't strange to see someone multiple times in a day on the first floor, especially when one considered how many low level players didn't venture out past the walls. What was strange was to see one multiple times in a matter of minutes. The woman was frantic, clearly out of sorts. His mood was more sullen than usual, so he wasn't quite at the point where he'd bark at her just for existing. Her anxiety was starting to make him anxious. That was the breaking point. Corvo didn't want to feel that kind of empathy toward someone else- and he didn't want to feel uneasy for any reason. The o

Monotony was the most lethal killer in Aincrad. People could speak for days on the dangers of being unprepared, the unpredictability of boss encounters, Player Killers- not a one of them could hold a candle to the ennui that crept in with every simulated breath. Corvo lamented in silence every time he opened his eyes to see a digital sunrise. It was the only time he was silent anymore. Alone with his thoughts, the sublime desire to simply fade, to wither away instead of missing his family. For the few fleeting moments before he dragged himself out of the inn bed each day, the same morose

God. One leg over the other, his foot hung limp and toes flicked from side to side as the two women unloaded on him. He stared at the empty drink glass after polishing off the liquid within, lifting it to examine it with one eye closed. God damn it, they have inflated self-esteem and get easily offended. They're the most annoying kind of bitches. Corvo exhaled loudly as he was told to "tread lightly." "I'm gonna stop you right there, lady," he said, thrusting out a hand as KnightinGale started to prattle off her indignation and indicated that the other girl had 'claimed' him. "You're talk

His gaze locked with hers when she reached toward him. When her fingers traced his skin, he slowly glanced down toward her hand, then back toward her. Fire burned in his veins, that deep seated longing for human touch fulfilled. Acid boiled immediately thereafter at the cruel reality, that the touch he received was anything but. Digitized emulation of the genuine article. An elaborate lie, the same lie that the game told them day in and out. Don't fucking touch me. His rage screamed from within, caged behind his ribs, bursting outward to blister his flesh from the inside. He almost g

It didn't take much to get her attention, he noticed. Corvo reached back behind him and peeled the wooden pipe from his inventory, spinning it deftly between his fingers as he drew it around his body and brought it to his lips. Bringing both hands up to cup and cover the bowl while igniting the herb within, he took a long, heavy, burning draw with both eyes closed. The room was still spinning. His head hadn't left the spiral of endorphins and adrenaline, nor had the headache left him entirely. He needed the sanity that his placebo brought, at least enough to not stumble over his own two f

He leaned back and pressed his palms against the rooftop, bracing himself for a deep breath that forcibly filled his lungs. The air here was dank, even so high up and away from the bustling city below. The headache brewing in his temples went unabated by the so-called "fresh air," and he exhaled harshly. "Fuckin' city smells like a hooker puked up saffron 'n myrrh on someone's taint," he muttered as he pushed his back toward the roof and stretched his spine, slowly reaching toward the edge with either hand to pop his shoulders. In reality, he didn't need the sensation in this world, but he was

The scents of incense and spice were only faint from so high up, but they were what had driven him there. Lhasri was pungent and vibrant, filled to overflowing with culture, art, and even music that bled deep into the night. Firelight rather than proper lanterns settled in over the cityscape, illuminating the figures of its citizens gyrating and undulating in time with the rhythm. He climbed to the apex of one building simply to escape the headrush that his surroundings gave him. Though Corvo enjoyed smoke and even inhaled deeply when first he arrived, after several long hours of explora

Panic. Discord. Terror. The mighty advantage of mass confusion was a powerful tool when in the hands of a strategist. Unfortunately, the line between tactical genius and psychopath blurred in Corvo, who's sheer and blinding rage caused him to lash out and maim the ship itself. Whether or not it had done a fine job of breaking the enemy ranks up or sowing confusion was irrelevant. What mattered was that someone was going to fucking pay for spoiling his wine. He fell unceremoniously through the floor that buckled beneath the force and weight of his strike, spinning through and landing

Some time before... "Black Tie." Corvo leered down at the message with a curt shake of his head. "Thanks for doing literally what the game forced you to do, lets celebrate." What a concept! It was like the AI wanted to give them the realest experience possible, throwing them into the fire and then treating them as heroes, creating the ideal setting to exacerbate the already rampant Stockholm Syndrome. And now, the machine brain wanted to treat them like VIPs in the real world. "Ties are for old guys," he announced to no one in particular as he made a snap decision about what to

He caught the crystal deftly as it was thrown, despite not knowing what it was. He didn't glance at the menu prompt to find out, either. The words that this woman spoke to him were ice, and suggested that he was worthless. "Piss on that,"he hissed angrily as he swapped the item for a different one in his inventory, this time guzzling the conjured healing potion in a single swig. He would need every drop of health he could manage in order to survive this encounter. The last thing he wanted to do was die, but next to that, proving this person right was damned close to his top priority. He