Corvo

"Tch."

Everything was loud and obnoxious. Not that he hated the atmosphere; if anything, Aincrad needed more excitement. It just made the booze taste worse, and that was a tragedy. "God, cry about it, why don't you?" he snapped at Dazia when she sulked about people who might try to kill her. "I've been listening to you bitch about it for as long as you've been sitting here. If you care so much what people think, don't give them a reason to hate you. By the way, you're doing a shit job of that. You're already the most annoying person I've met in this game."

He took a breath and exhaled, the bags under his eyes more evident as he released the tension that he'd let build a few heartbeats too long. Why let them get to him? They mattered about as much as he let them, and once he didn't even give them that much, things felt immensely better. When he glanced back to Koga, did so with a much more lazy expression. "You make it sound pointless to even have a job," he drawled, a bemused expression plastered across his face. "God, it almost sounds like this isn't such a bad place to be. Ain't that just peachy?" Corvo's shoulders sagged as he felt the part of him that hated this world burn with even more intensity. It sapped the realism from life and made things insane. 

Just like it had with him.

"God, well, now my beer tastes even more like piss," he sneered as he finished another healthy gulp. "And it doesn't even get me wasted. God, what a ripoff."

He slammed the mug back down on the table and looked from Koga to Sketch. "Think the Pils is any better?" he asked abruptly.

"Did I ask if you-"  Corvo started to become irritated with Koga's attitude. Did this lousy fuck seriously assume he wasn't listening to the conversation before he interjected himself? Pah! "Kids these days and their lousy manners, just assuming everyone only hears what they want to. I heard you say that you got the damn thing from a quest."

He began to lazily pick between his teeth with the tip of the blade, eyes glossing over as the man picked up his shitty sales pitch again. What, was everything in this game so bad that it drained the life and happiness out of people? God, that Kayaba Akihiko was a sadistic man. "So what you're saying is that professions are more like gambling than actual jobs," Corvo inferred from the way Koga was talking about probability and statistics. "That suits me just fine. I'm built for that kind of sinning. Gets my rocks off and all that happy shit."

Just a hair closer he leaned while the others started to get a little more rowdy. The girl peddling cookies got involved now, and she vocalized that she didn't know Koga despite what he'd said about selling her items. Around that same time, some odd guy dropped materials in front of the lot of them, and Corvo looked down at the table. His face scrunched up in confusion before he looked up again. "Man, if I never see another of these fuckin flowers again, it'll be too soon. You some kind of closet schadenfreude loving freak?" he asked of Raidou, affixing the man with a cold stare. "I mean, more power to you man, just don't pull your c-"

Before he could finish that thought, the emo kid that everyone seemed to be calling Dazia grabbed Raidou by the wrist and started to give him a stern talking to about touching her. Corvo exhaled, annoyed. He wasn't the most abrasive person in the room, for once. At any rate, he hadn't stabbed anyone yet, so they were actually doing fantastic.

"Anyway, looks like you've got ladies lining up to grab you. Won't even have to do all that."

He let out a snort, full of frustration. It was chaos in this room. Not that he didn't absolutely thrive on it.

Corvo started spinning the blade between his fingers, his cheek resting in the palm of his other hand. "You know what he's gonna tell you, right?" his crimson gaze turned to Sketch. "Come to my shop. I can handle all your needs for starting your adventure off right.' Something like that. Of course he's going to push his business- if the market's as fucked as ya'll said, predatory advertising is the only realistic option."  He shrugged and tapped the blade's edge on the table toward Koga. "No offense, obviously. I appreciate the new shank and all, I just thought I'd save you a few steps."

Items

Item Name: - Reaver's Edge
Item Tier: - 1
Item Type: - War Axe
Item Enhancements: - 2 Damage 1 Bleed
Description: - An axe with a serrated edge, guaranteed to leave a wound that will continue to bleed after it strikes.

Name: The King's Lament
Your Profession: Tailor
Item Type: Cloth Armor
Tier: 1
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: Risky | Risky | Recovery
Description: "Once the loose fitting vest of a great king. When he was killed by his enemies, his spirit would not be laid to rest. That rage and despair linger, fueling the wearer's killer instinct."

Item Name: - Death God's Favor
Item Tier: - Tierless
Item Type: - Trinket
Item Enhancements: - Accuracy 3
Description: - A talisman fashioned in the shape of a skull with a blade driven through it. It emanates a foul aura, said to ensure the lethality of the bearer.

Thread List

Threads

The Frost Bites 

Where'd you get that stick? 

The first few lessons are free 

Together, now!

Profile

Username: Corvo

Real Name: Evan

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Height: 5'7"

Bio: Before SAO, Evan was a mild mannered teenage kid with a penchant for doing what he was told. Sounds pretty boring, right? Well, he grew up in a pretty traditional family, kept his nose clean, and did everything by the book. By the time he was considered an adult, life felt pretty boring. Like, cookie cutter, I'm sick of this shit, give me something interesting to do levels of boring.

He loved his parents, don't get him wrong. They wanted the best for him, and right up til he was able to make his own decisions, their way seemed sensible. The moment he was allowed to deviate from the course plotted for him, he did.

It was small at first. Rebellious energy focused toward drinking, smoking, hanging out with the wrong crowd- all the things he'd been deprived of struck at once. He got pretty saturated in a double life, and it inevitably caught up with him. Evan didn't his parents finding out about his bad habits, and so, he started to find better ways to hide them. By channeling that deviant behavior into new mediums, he was able to break away from the more negative influences and start playing MMOs. 

The friend group online was a bit more bland than his colorful friends in the outside world, but they didn't get him in trouble. He could cuss freely and do all the degenerate garbage his heart desired, so long as his family didn't glance over his shoulder. That's where he met some of his closest friends- which'll be on the test. Write that down.

When Ev heard about Sword Art Online, he was down. Hook, line, sinker. Virtual reality, a world where he didn't have to be himself, where that degenerate could come to life and do all the horrific shit that he wasn't able to do in the real world? He bought the NerveGear with his savings and didn't even bother listening to his parents when they put their foots down.

It was time for him to escape. While the helmet was on his head, none of their opinions mattered. At least, that was what he'd thought… before release day.

Virtues

The Faintest Glimmer: His memories of his family and friends are ever present. Though he generally overtly rejects them, there are times when fond thoughts enter his mind. In these moments, he is more gentle and easy to deal with, and at times may be prone to less volatile action. These things pass quickly, but they make for the best time to talk to Corvo and exhibit a glimpse of humanity in the void of his mind.

Stocism: For someone as overtly chaotic as Corvo, he doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves. He hides his real motives and thoughts behind the facade he's carefully created. Where others see madness, his vision is clear. Even the things that hurt him drown in it, at face value.

Pride: The best and most effective way to appeal to Corvo is to stroke his ego. A proud man by nature, he will do everything he can to be the best at what he does. While the world is just a game, it's a game he's playing. He hasn't forgotten that part. Though pride does carry a hefty cost: when someone insults his, he has to make sure he can throw it back in their face. A man never backs down from a challenge, after all.

Ultraviolence: Corvo loves to fight. There's nothing he loves better than a brawl, and so, he looks for any and every opportunity. As a veteran DPS Player in other MMOs, he intuitively knows and understands his role and in that capacity, he's absolutely perfect. If only he wasn't such a bastard.

Flaws

I am whatever I want to be: Corvo is the manifestation of absolute self-indulgence. When Evan joined the game, his entire mentality was that he wanted to escape from the expectations placed on him. Instead of a healthy coming to grips with the reality of Aincrad, Evan rejected everything. The world had forced itself on him, and he vowed that he'd force himself back onto the world. He refuses to relate to the general person with any sort of human empathy. They're Players. This is a game. If they don't like it, they shouldn't have logged in. 

Haunting Echoes: Evan's closeness to his family is a soft spot. He has no support system in Aincrad, and even the closest people to him keep him at arm's length. He doesn't actively reach out for help, though occasionally he seeks new information from those who will readily part with it.  People who dig too deep into his personal life generally get burned: he doesn't want to connect with people in this world. He doesn't want anything to remind him of what was left behind. If the day comes where he makes it out alive, he'll consider regretting it then.

Carpe Omnia: Seize Everything. Give nothing in return. Evan's self-indulgence has grown into debilitating, narcissistic nihilism. He doesn't see any light, and whenever he does, his lost hope quickly eclipses it. Instead of hanging on and seeking a positive outlet, he drowns in a darkness that no one can reach through. Because of this, he's content to drag others into the darkness- misery loves company.

Manifest: Corvo is the Fool. His essence is one of depravity, a man lost and beyond salvation. Outwardly, he exhibits signs of irritability and volatile rage, mixed with perversion and a notoriously foul mouth. He can be the funniest man in the room, or the most vicious. It all depends on the timing.

Story so far: When he logged in, he didn't know anyone. He didn't log in because he wanted to know people. Evan had his core friend group, and all of them planned to meet and play together once they were in game.

That never happened.

His friends Tobias and Thom allegedly joined, but embroiled in the chaos of day one, he never found them. While they went on to gain strength and had their own adventures, Evan lost himself in depression. A mix of drinking alcohol that didn't give him a buzz and thoughts that brought him to the edge destroyed his mental health.

Fortunately- or perhaps unfortunately- Evan was a proud man. Too proud. He refused to lose that battle to himself. The demons in his mind couldn't drive him to end his life. Instead, they twisted him. Filled with hate and rage, he started his journey and even met Arc, one of the two friends that he was supposed to find at the beginning. With the tragic news of their mutual friend's death, Tobias became obsessed. He started looking for ways to revive the dead, despite fully knowing that it was futile. With both his friends lost to the game, Corvo began to sink. He only had life outside to look forward to- but would he ever make it?

He met Mari, a woman who claimed to be in love with Thom at some point, and eventually discovered that one of his closest friends had not died, but was alive and well. Armed with that knowledge, he fully embraced that he'd been betrayed. Tobias had left to find Thom, and Thom was alive- with no intention of reaching out.

Evan didn't need anyone. He was alone- and that was just fine with him. Hell or high water, he'd find his way home.

Someday.

Corvo - Level 9

180/180 HP 36/36 EN

• Total EXP: 4182
• Total SP: 45
• Current Level: 9

4 Damage 1 Bleed

Previous Journal found here

Directory Post

The blade that lodged in the table in front of him immediately triggered Corvo.

As if the day wasn't bad enough, he now had to worry about someone tossing a weapon at him. Ineffectual though it would have been in the safe zone, it was another experience to add to his list of reasons why today was awful. He gripped the hilt of the blade and ripped it free, brandishing it menacingly as he turned to vent his frustrations at the first person he saw. Then, Koga apologized and told him that he could have it. With a priceless expression on his face, the Red-Haired youth glanced back at the weapon and scrutinized it with all the skill of a blade enthusiast.

It appeared to be the top quality of weapon that someone his level could use. From what he knew about the game, getting this thing was like the best possible thing that could happen. Suddenly, he couldn't be quite as mad about it flying into his face and almost cutting a chunk out of his flesh. He was conflicted. "Hell of a way to give something to someone," he settled on that, because it was about as argumentative as he could manage without sounding entirely ungrateful. "You must enjoy throwing random weapons at people." He noted the rest of the group as he took his mug from the counter and swigged off it. The conversation overall sounded pretty boring as he got closer, so he didn't engage about cookies or studying, but the Blacksmithing stuff? Now, that might be something worth hearing.

Corvo spun a chair around near where Sketch and Koga were sitting and reclined with his arms folded on the back of it, legs straddled on either side. He leaned forward, bringing the front legs off the ground so he could get a bit closer to the two men. It almost seemed like a clandestine meeting, and they were discussing some kind of great secret. 

"I'll take what he's having," Corvo crooned, pointing with the tip of his new knife toward the other new Player, Sketch. "I wanna hear more about Blacksmithing."

Corvo equips <Dagger of the Sands>

Updated Stats: 100/100 HP 20/20 EN 4DMG 1 BLD

He wobbled into the bar just after finishing a quest, visibly grumpy. It would be one thing if the swill in this god-forsaken place actually gave him a buzz, but all he ever got out of the deal was the flavor. He was already let down and he hadn't even sat down yet. With a scowl, he pulled a stool out from under the bar and took a seat, lifting a finger to sign the to barkeep that he wanted a mug. When the drink came, he hammered it back like a thirsty man slogging water. His crimson gaze found the man, startled by the vehemence with which he slammed the alcohol and tapped on the counter. Another drink came ready within several seconds. "Ought to pace yourself," the man warned.

Corvo eyed him. "I am pacing myself," he retorted venomously. The man put his hands up to signal that he meant no harm, and Corvo turned his attention back to the drink. Doesn't even taste decent, he glowered in silence, back still turned to the group of Players that gathered seemingly to celebrate something. 

After a moment, the red haired Player gleaned something about what they were talking about. Friendship. Working together, trusting each other- all the bullshit that made him want to scream. Friends? In this place? He didn't even have the ones who he thought would be there until the end. They were in the world, evidently. They hadn't reached out. Only Mari's word gave him any certainty about that fact, and he did have a reason to believe that the pink haired... no, orange now, wasn't it? Anyway, he didn't think she had any cause to lie to him about that. All the knowledge she had about Alkor couldn't have just been a coincidence.

But if the Captain was here... then he'd abandoned the Brotherhood. He'd abandoned Corvo. 

"Fuck'im anyway," Corvo slurred, polishing off his second drink within a minute. When the next came, he let out a growl. With a click of his tongue, he turned to glare at the group, which only got louder as the other newcomer offered everyone samples of her baking. He stared hard at each member of the group in turn. Newbie... newbie... newbie... a couple of them looked out of place, but most of them looked like the starry-eyed type, the ones who would talk so carefree about friendship and magic like they didn't have a care in the world. He'd have done them the service of a blade to the throat already if the System didn't prevent such actions inside the city.

Nah. On second thought, they weren't worth the trouble, or the effort. When the guy who called himself Sketch mentioned different types of booze and weapons, it occurred to Corvo that he might just have written them off too quickly. Maybe listening to them talk might actually turn out useful. "You want another?" the man behind the counter questioned. Corvo glanced back at him.

"Keep 'em coming," he replied icily. The man rolled his eyes as he turned back to the tap and poured another round.

Corvo 

Level 5 100/100 HP 10/10 Energy | 2DMG

Thread complete

Corvo gains (1<page>+2<quest>+1<bonus>)4 SP and 400 Col

AND

- 5 Tier One Health Potions of Rare quality. (+40 HP)
- 1 Tier One Damage Potion of Uncommon quality. (+1 Damage)
- 1 Tier One Over-Health Potion of Special quality. (+50 HP to maximum HP for remainder of thread)

Corvo pulled the dagger from its sheath again, this time with every intent to use it. He broke into a proper run. This world ain't so bad sometimes, he thought as the wind blasted against his face and through his hair. The first floor was only the beginning, but it gave him a good taste of what this world had to offer. He felt his lungs fill with air and his heart pound against his chest, even the blood in his veins.

He'd not felt this alive in a long time.

In the days when he was young, the man behind the avatar spent his time sparring and fighting in a reckless attempt to be the best among his peers. He got competitive, he threw himself headlong into any conflict just to taste victory; but to Evan, even defeat was sweet.

He only felt alive when he was fighting.

Now, his fight was about to begin in earnest. It was a for his life; and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He found himself questioning the extent of his goodwill by the time the conversation ended. Readily accepting every quest as they were offered was a good policy for gaining experience, but he wasn't strong enough to handle some of the things thrown at him alone. He needed to find a healthy way to improve himself, something that had a low risk and high reward. This chain was about to throw him, very literally, to the boars.

Corvo was facing the world outside the safe zone again, and this time he wouldn't be avoiding the mobs. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, imagining what life would be life if he hadn't logged into the game. Where would he be right now? Would he be fearful of his life every single time he walked out of his house?

No.

It was that answer that told him what he had to do. Corvo had never been the type to shy away from a challenge. Even in the real world, he tackled things head on and enjoyed the struggles that were thrown his way. The fear of death did not dissuade him then, and it wouldn't do so now. He took that first step with a bit more swagger, smirking even.

This was gonna be a good ass time.

Corvo walked through the Town with the package in his arms, carefully plotting his course toward the destination marked on his map. Once he was there, he placed it down on the porch and knocked. "Hey there," he called out, "I've got a package for Lyle Tealeaf? It's from-"

"Ah, yeah, the package from Zackariah! He told me he'd be sending someone. Bring it right on in!" Lyle stepped away from the anvil with hammer still in hand, waving Corvo on in. "Thanks so much, I've been waiting on those tempers. Special orders take a bit of extra love to complete, you know how it is."

For once, Corvo did know how it was. He understood exactly what Lyle was talking about; but instead of starting them down a conversation rabbithole, he only nodded. "Yeah, don't mention it," he said with a quick wave. "I've got some other stuff to take care of, so-"

"Actually, if you have a few minutes, I've got something I'd like help with. You seem pretty reliable, so I figure asking you might actually be the move."

He stretched out his arms and gave a loud yawn. With his task complete, the quest was done. He watched the experience bar tick up gradually, somewhat let down by the fact that it didn't actually feel any different to level up. With a VR experience, he halfway hoped that becoming stronger had some actual effect, like puberty or something.

(Ok, so it wasn't a perfect parallel.)

Idly, Corvo pulled his dagger from its sheath and began to examine it. The weapon wasn't anything special, it was just the one he got upon creating his character. "Sure would like something prettier," he muttered to himself as he picked his teeth with the tip of the weapon and scowled. Aincrad was bigger and more difficult than he ever anticipated it would be.

Now, he just needed...

"Could you do me a favor?" Zackariah asked him suddenly.

Corvo glanced back. "Depends," he answered, "if it involves brewing another potion, I'd honestly rather gouge my eyes out."

"This package," the man produced a neatly boxed item and handed it off to Corvo. "Could you deliver it to the Blacksmith, Lyle Tealeaf for me? I would really appreciate it."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. No problem buddy."

Instead of argument, Corvo immediately threw himself into the labor once more. He knew the motions, the grinding with pestle and mortar, the proper ratio for emulsion, and the carefully churned viscosity that gave the craft its particular flavor. While health potions weren't necessarily delicious, there was an art to making them palatable. Zackariah taught him that.

Now he'd know what to give the Alchemists shit for, later.

As he toiled over the table, the old man crowded him and watched intently. "Ah ah! That's enough, that's enough!" Corvo pulled his arms back reflexively when Zackariah spoke. "Almost overdid it there! I commend your audacity though! Not many people take quite so long to figure it out, but you've done it!"

"Yeah, that's... not a complement."

"I have some things for you, since you've successfully completed the task I've given you," Zackariah told him, unshelving several potions which he turned over to the low level Player. "These will be useful to you in your travels. Feel free to use them however you like, as a token of my appreciation."

"Yeah, thanks," Corvo said as he sent the items to his inventory. 

ID# 183522 Craft: 6 (Success! Uncommon potion crafted)

He felt the scream welling up in his throat, but managed to bite it back. Did he really have to do this? It felt unnecessary, especially given that he had no interest whatsoever in alchemy. If he was going to choose a profession, it'd be something that let him play around with knives and swords. Y'know, the good stuff.

Corvo watched intently- or, as intently as he could manage- as the man went through the motions another time and nodded vacantly. "You know, I just don't think I got what it takes to be a Master Drug Dealer." Old Man Zackariah only laughed and continued to brew the potion, then when he finished, set it to the side and gestured for the Player to take the wheel.

"Now..."

"Fine." Corvo threw up his hands and set to work grinding the herbs down to a paste. That part, at least, was easy enough. The more times he attempted it, the easier it seemed to get; but the small details still escaped him. Once he got to the emulsion, too much liquid diluted the mixture, and yet again he failed to craft the intended potion.

He shot the old man a venomous glare.

"Again!"

He moved toward the burner and stared down at it incredulously. "Yanno, man, I gotta be honest with ya, I failed chem class twice in High School," he said, backing slowly away from the workstation. Zachariah caught him by the shoulders and spurred him forward with just a bit of extra push. 

"Nonsense, it's much easier than you might think," the old man never stopped smiling and chuckling as he spoke, moving toward the flame and guiding Corvo's hands toward the bottle, then the materials in turn. "First, you..." he made a movement that the redhead only slightly saw the whole of, but continued regardless. "...and then...!"

"Yeah, I missed that whole thing," Corvo shook his head, "look I'd be glad to pick you some more flowers, but I really don't wanna burn your house down."

"I'll show you one more time," Zachariah told him, "and I'll slow it down a bit. Pay close attention, you're going to give it a try."

When he returned to Zachariah, the man greeted him warmly. "Ah, you've returned! I trust you were successful in gathering the reagents I asked for?"

"Got 'em right here, as requested," Corvo held out the items to the man, who accepted them with a broad smile. "Weren't no easy thing, lemme tell ya. Swear to Christ if I had it to do again I'd just as soon pay someone-"

The kindly old man only chuckled as the young firebrand waxed poetic about his woes. "Here, here, I promise it will all be worth it if you just follow me. I'm going to have you help me craft a potion."

"Eh? A potion? With flowers? This ain't some kinda weird Aincradian Meth is it?"

"Healing potions are the most commonly used items by Players in their adventure," Zachariah explained, "so I thought you might benefit from knowledge on how crafting works here. I've taken the liberty of preparing a work area for you, fully stocked with everything you will need. Are you ready?"

"Well, it'd be rude of me to say no at this point," Corvo shrugged helplessly. "Alright, old man. Show me how to break bad."

He meandered over to a spot not far from the gates to the Town of Beginnings and copped a squat. His eyes moved cautiously over the open field that spanned practically as far as his field of vision and sighed. With a huff, he exhaled a cloud of smoke and pried the pipe from his lips. His eyes were glazed, but there was no one around to tell him that he ought to stop.

His mind wandered over days like this, lazy, filled with thoughts about the future and what it might bring. Back then, he was sat behind a computer screen messaging back and forth with his friends in an online game that didn't have he capacity to end his life. Friends that, apparently, existed in this world with him and hadn't even bothered to try to contact him. What had happened that they wouldn't?

Did the Captain care so little?

He shook his head as he noticed a spawn right next to him, and his hand darted out to seize the crafting material. "Well if it ain't just my lucky day!"

Yet again, the fates saw fit to deny him. 

He had not expected it to be easy, but he found himself frustrated with whatever algorithms or gods commanded RNG inside of Sword Art Online. He cursed that his life had an even more strictly governed system than before and packed himself a generous pipe of tobacco, ignited it, and began to inhale habitually. Part of him wondered if he would take the habit back to the real world with him, while the other part of him was just glad to have that familiar burn on his tongue.

"Man, I miss South Carolina," he muttered to himself as he scoured the countryside for flowers. 

He felt so compromised. The life he had before was spent admiring blades, ogling beautiful women, and practicing the martial arts. Now, he was reduced to a life where the phrase "I studied the blade" was no longer ironic or a thing of memes. The virtual world was a horrible place, and he had no friends here. It was incredibly lonely, and he hated it. 

So, it was going to be nice to get back and chat with Zachariah.

"Nah, it's fine." he waved her off and largely let her words fall where they would. He knew exactly where she was, hung up on things with her ex. Probably better than she did, because Alkor wasn't good with anyone, let alone girls. He didn't even know where to begin feeling sorry for Mari in that regard. But, he wasn't about to broach the topic again.

For Corvo and Mari, he was a topic that they shouldn't discuss. At least for now. Not while the wound was fresh. Not while she was healing, and while he was still hurting from the loss of a friendship he thought meant more.

"I think I'm tired after all that goofing off, honestly," he said. It may have been a lie, but the cure to some awkward situations was bringing them to an end. "Probably gonna head back to the inn I've been staying at and catch a good, long nap." It wasn't quite the excursion he'd had in mind several minutes before, but now, Corvo didn't really want the company..

"I hope things get better with those assholes. Maybe you'll get things figured out before we talk again. If not, well, you managed to message me once, maybe you'll manage to do it again."

He let out a bedraggled moan that sounded almost effeminate as she struck him. His body appeared to quiver, and he caressed himself in both arms to punctuate the ridiculous nature of his antics. If one didn't put on a show, could they really ever call themselves masochistic? Well, sure they could- they just couldn't use it to mess with anybody.

"Oh YEAH," he growled, shooting a wink toward the orange haired woman. "You really did hit me baby one more time." Corvo cackled. "I'll pay for the service, if I must. What're you charging?" he asked. Then, he leaned extra close and whispered, "I bet you could use some-"

Right before the word could come out of his mouth, Mari brought the topic back round to the Captain. He clamped his mouth shut and backed off, heaving a sigh. "Y'know, you edge me real good then you drop me to flaccid in an instant when you talk about that guy. Its a real buzzkill," his voice had gone almost flat, almost monotone. "I get it. Its tough to move past someone who never really gave you a chance to move on. But just because I used to know a guy, do I really have to keep hearing about him when the topic's really fuckin' sore?"

Just when he thought there might be something, the shade of Alkor loomed. Mari was great- and for a second, he almost wanted to take her right over to the inn and give her a routine check up: but the mood soured just as quickly, and he was reminded that this girl had a force field he'd never penetrate.

Friend's ex. Ex-friend's ex. Even more awkward.

The reality for Corvo was that he wanted his character to be so far departed from the person he actually was, this world wouldn't know anything about who he really was. It stole his face,  it stole years of his life. He wouldn't give himself over to it. That was whybhe sucked on the pipe so religiously. It was his small, stupid form of rebellion. Even Aincead couldn't take that away from him. So, when someone showed an inkling of kindness, it unnerved him.

Because for all the foul words that he said, for as vile as he got, on the inside, Evan was a compassionate person, and he found kinship with others who were kind. Corvo wasn't- he couldn't let it show, not to anyone, especially not to Mari- but he didn't hate this woman.

"Don't try too hard," he warned. "Pretty sure I can see smoke coming out yer ears."

He watched with far too much interest as she adjusted her clothing, and leaned forward to see just how much he could see. Before she got a chance to catch him in the act, though, he bolted upright and ran his fingers through his hair. "Honestly, I'd worry less about what other people have to say or think and worry more about giving them the slaps when they deserve them. Ain't no one saying you can't, and they won't learn shit if no one corrects 'em."

Whether or not he agreed they should be corrected, Mari deserved to know that just because he wasn't wrong didn't mean she was. People's egos were fragile, sure, but that wasn't a license to treat others like dicks. There was a fine line, and a slap didn't cross it.

"Try not to get the chillin's too excited with all that slapping, though," he winked. "I admit, I had a good time imagining it."

"Mmm mmm," he shook his head vehemently as he gagged on the smoke he had only just begun to inhale. The ensuing coughing fit stalled his next words for several seconds before he finally completed the thought for her. "Nope. No way. Advice ain't in my wheelhouse, sugartits. 'Specially not unsolicited advice. People tend to get real mad when you try to tell 'em how to live, or  criticize them in any way at all. Perspective, though?" 

Corvo took a deep breath to cleanse himself, eyes shut. When he exhaled, he let out a throaty, elongated "yeaaaaaaah. Now, Perspective I've got for ya all day." The foul-mouthed firebrand leveled a single eye on the lass as he returned the pipe to its rightful place in his jaw and began to walk once more, arms crossed behind his head now. "Regarding the ego, for instance. Ain't more sore a topic for a man than to hear he's second rate. Don't matter if you're sayin' his dong is small, or even if what you're saying is true. The ego is so important to these people that they forget what matters. Cult of personality, and all that."

He paused for a moment to reflect. There was a bitterness about him that wanted this world to end, but for Corvo, that didn't measure up to risking his life. He was no different from those people with fragile, misguided morality. When it came down to it,, his self-preservation far outweighed his desire to help anyone free themselves from Aincrad.

And for that reason, he wouldn't speak in condemnation of them.

"...for some folks, their ego's all they've got, y'know?"

When he fully realized how dense she'd been about his flirtation, he blinked once, slowly. Corvo wasn't in the business of repeating himself because someone was slow on the uptake, so either Mari wasn't buying what he was selling or she flat out had too much on her mind. Either way, he exhaled quietly through the edge of his lips and discarded the silliness. It was his favored weapon, that wit, and yet it served no purpose with someone who was too far receded into their own thoughts. 

If she'd meant it, how would he have responded, though? Was he actually interested, or did he only flirt with her at face value? It was always hard for him to tell where the face began and ended. Evan had decided long ago that Aincrad didn't deserve the real him. Not like Alkor, not like someone who wanted to be someone else, but as someone so offended by his situation that his only response was self-preservation by constantly remembering, constantly holing himself away and being reminded of a family he couldn't go back to.

It was his blessing. It was his curse. Yet, for a moment here, he connected with this girl, just as spurned by his own friends as he was. Maybe it wouldn't have been bad. Maybe they could have done something, one time, two times. Would it mean anything?

Did anything?

His thousand yard stare answered her question as he lit up his pipe and took a long, deep hit. "The hardest part for me has always been pretending I do care," he admitted. "Maybe about my friends, I do, but people who don't respect me, who can't value my friendship, those ain't friends. They don't deserve to make me hurt." He blew out a plume of black like a dragon, tendrils of smog roiling from his nostrils. "So if there is something you care about, if there are people who deserve that, then they're going to take the time and give you the patience you deserve. That's how family and friends are supposed to be. That's how I was raised."

He finally looked her way, and for a moment, she seemed like the kind of pretty that would give him pause.

Then, he glanced away..

"You have time, is my point. If anyone expects you to be up to snuff straightaway, fuck 'em."

"Nah, don't bother. If he can't be fucked to reach out, I got nothing to say to him."

Really, it was open and shut. The captain had never been a talkative guy, and Corvo and he only got along in small doses. Arc had been the outgoing one, the glue that kept everything together while Alkor led the pack against impossible odds. The brains, but definitely not the face of the party, or the motivational speaker. With that in the past, it left the crow to his own devices. Aincrad was a new beast, but it had all the different primal aspects of the old ones. Stats, levels, skills...

What made it better, really, was the company. "I got nothin' if not my memory, babe," he chided her gently, "and lemme tell you, when I'm real lonely, I'm glad I remember you." Corvo shot her a quick, flirty wink as he walked past her and started along the path. She wanted to walk and talk? Walk and talk they would.

"Too bad I don't have anything extra special to remember," he called back over his shoulder. "I'd keep you like one of the best secrets. Anyway, whats on your mind?" he asked.

There was a fire in the pit of his gut when she said those words. He tried to ignore them, but he was already ignited. Anger, the fouled kind of anger burned under his skin and boiled his blood. One of his friends was in that world alive and hadn't even bothered to reach out. It was bad enough hearing that he'd died. He'd been able to digest that, slowly, but the bile that lined his throat when the facts came back, Alkor was alive?

Years of their lives had been wasted in this world. He wasn't the gamer that the others were, he had a family and a life outside of SAO. He had grown to resent some of his very best friends because they had badgered him endlessly until he finally spent the money and resolved to play the world's first VRMMO, and now, here he was. He had almost forgiven the Captain.

Now, he never would.

Or maybe, she was lying. 

Who knew with people in this world. He learned early on that no one could be trusted. Was she any different? Was she just someone else inside this world playing at victim? A spider with a man in her web, ready to envenom him and peel the flesh from his bone? He had so many trust issues, now.

"I don't want to talk about that," he said flatly.

"This ain't about me, no need to make it that way. I'm glad to hear that you haven't got any particular death wishes, because it'd be a god damn shame to lose that fine ass of yours. It's one of the few truly beautiful things in this God forsaken world."

He said that with such blunt, humorless honesty you'd believe his conviction came from on high.