Pinball

As you do? Once more, anger rushed through his system, this time accompanied by a profound annoyance. It was aggravating, to say the least, when someone had you under their thumb. Even moreso when they deemed it amusing to taunt you for it. Pinball was all scowls as he fought the remaining Hell Hounds, a whirling dirvish as he cut through - and missed - the burning dogs. 

Arabelle had spun out on the offensive again, and, much to her chagrin, would accumulate enough Hate. And because of that - unfortunately, when he missed, Arabelle had been targeted. As he'd curse, panic and fear(?) coursing through his veins, Pinball would end up throwing himself towards them, his spear held outright, it felt like he wouldn't make it there in time. If he could just press forward just a little bit harder - run just a little bit faster... 

There was no way in hell he was going to let her die here. 

Action Taken: Sword Art - [Imperial Southern Cross] [-2 EN/+1 EN] // +62 HP
Hell Hound 1: ID#138858 BD: 1 MD: 4-2= 2 

[2] Arabelle: 258/560 HP | 33/56 EN | 14 DMG | 46 MIT | 3 Probiotics | 5 ACC | 2 EVA | Fallen | 2 Recovery | Regen [BRN: 1/2] [Regen: 1/3]
[1] Pinball: 1060/1240 HP | 104/124 EN | 20 DMG | 5 ACC | 6 EVA | 62 BH | 8-10/36 FRZ | Phase [BRN: 2/2]

Pinball managed to rip his arm free of the monster's fiery maw, leaving him wide open and circled by the pack. Arabelle was quick to launch an attack of her own as a follow-up, and Pinball was surprised to see their health drop a significant amount. It brought back memories, didn't it? How much had she grown, since then? 

He didn't give it much thought. The warrior was still angry, and that anger was muddling his thoughts. He spun out into another Weeping Moon, a flash of white arcing out and cutting through one of the Infernal Hell Hounds. The second managed to leap back as the first froze and fell apart in gory chunks of ice, dissipitating into fragments of blue soon after. But the third was nowhere near him, and Pinball's heart dropped at the thought. 

"[censored]," he spat, whirling around to face Arabelle. 

Panic and fear spiked through his chest.  

Action Taken: Sword Art - [Weeping Moon] [-10 EN/+1 EN] {Well Rested} // +62 HP 
Hell Hound 1: ID#138839 BD: 1 (miss lmao) MD: 10 (jesus christ) ~ // 175-46=  129 DMG + 18 BRN to Arabelle 
Hell Hound 2: ID#138840 BD: 1 (kill me) MD: 2 
Hell Hound 3: ID#138841 BD: 10 (screw off) MD: 3 (no) ~ 20+2= 22*9= 198-22= 176 DMG 

[2/1] Arabelle: 303/560 HP | 36/56 EN | 14 DMG | 46 MIT | 3 Probiotics | 5 ACC | 2 EVA | Fallen | 2 Recovery | Regen [BRN: 1/2]
[1/1] Pinball: 998/1240 HP | 104/124 EN | 20 DMG | 5 ACC | 6 EVA | 62 BH | 8-10/36 FRZ | Phase [BRN: 2/2]

Digital sweat accumulated atop his brow as they walked, the magma's intensity rising for each step they took further into the depths of the hellish cavern. While he wasn't overly uncomfortable, thanks to the Survival skill he'd picked up what felt like years ago, Arabelle wasn't quite better off. Apparently there was a room effect; every so often, the purple-haired woman took damage. And it looked like it took out a noticeable chunk, too. What was she thinking? 

"I don't want to talk about it." But by the looks of it, he wasn't too sure that he'd get his way. 

Walking silently through the dugout mountain, the only view of the girl being her turned back, Pinball realized - he was scared of her. The teenager scowled, tossing his head to the side. That was stupid. It wasn't like she could hurt him. She wasn't a threat. He felt his fingers wrap around his spear tighter. Reassurance. 

He wasn't sure how long they'd been walking when they rounded the corner. Three hellhounds, dripping magma from their frothing mouths, snapped to attention, their heads locking onto the pair in unison. Instantly their cursors turned blood-red, and Arabelle's scythe appeared in hand. Pinball set his jaw. 

Wrong turn my ass, he thought. 

But what she said next gave him pause. He hesitated. Red hot anger bubbled up in his chest like a well-shaken soda, though the cap hadn't blown off quite yet. He was being used. Threatened. And he couldn't do anything about it. There weren't words to express what he felt then, but the colorful look in his glare as he moved forward likely spoke more than words ever could. 

If battle was a piece of art, Pinball was a painter; he moved with the trained precision of a frontliner, cutting through the first two Infernal Hellhounds with ease. They yelped, sparks of ember jutting out of their pierced skin as Pinball flowed past, burning holes in his healthbar. The third dog, however, proved more tricky - while Pinball's spear cut through the inside of its throat, it still stood, and pushed itself forward onto him, knocking him off balance. In an attempt to steady himself, his arm was forced forward, straight into the jaws of the beast. It clamped down as flashes of red sparked in his field of view, the two now locked in a deadly game of tug-of-war. 

Action Taken: Sword Art - [Weeping Moon] [-11 EN] {Well Rested} {Squeaky Clean} 
Hell Hound 1: ID#138691 BD: 2+5= 7 (Hit!) MD: 4-4= 0 (Miss!) ~ 20*9= 180-45= 135 DMG // 25 Thorns 
Hell Hound 2: ID#138692 BD: 7 (Hit!) MD: 5-4= 1 (Miss!) ~ 20*9= 180-45= 135 DMG // 25 Thorns 
Hell Hound 3: ID#138693 BD: 4+5= 9 (Hit!) MD: 10 (Crit!) ~ 20*9= 180-45= 135 DMG // 175 DMG + 27 BRN + 25 Thorns to Pinball 

Ah. Maybe he really wasn't getting enough sleep. His brain was slow and fuzzy. But then again, shouldn't he be used to it by now? Nothing has felt "right" since that day. He was always tired, and he was constantly weighed down by some dark, invisible, all-consuming pressure. A darkness looming over him at all times, a haunting memory and then more. It was always there. Always. When he went to sleep at night he feels it, and when he wakes up in the morning the first thing he thinks about is its presence. 

What does he like the most about this season? 

That was a good question. 

Pinball half wanted to say that it was a reminder. He'd done horrible things, surrounded by snow, and it led him to think the cold had chilled more than his skin. But that wasn't true, was it? Not entirely. No, he'd liked it before then. Before the mindless rampages, and the rage-fueled killings. So this time he could answer truthfully. 

"Where I grew up, we didn't get snow. It was more of a tropical place, so the idea of winter - a real winter - always sort of made me happy. I thought I would move somewhere with a real winter, someday." 

And he had. 

He'd made it a point to avoid her, since everything went to [censored]. 

So why was it he found her standing next to him, peering into the darkness of a cave lit only by fire and brimstone? There was a quest here. Notoriously difficult, as it were; it wasn't unlike Avalanche, in the sense the monster evolved, creating something new. Something stronger, and more dangerous. Something that, Pinball thought, someone like the petite woman standing beside him wouldn't dare take alone. 

That is, of course, if she'd even expected to. 

He didn't look at her. Didn't acknowledge her, even though he followed when beckoned into the depths of the mountain. His eyes were locked straight ahead, a cold, piercing blue, long black hair falling sloppily over his eyes, as if he hadn't combed it in days. There was nothing for him to say, now. 

Hiding wasn't going to work anymore. 

Player Stats: (After Buffs) 

House Buffs: 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Consumed: 

[x1] Snack - Spinach-Artichoke Dip: +2 EVA -> {Filling} +3 EVA 
[x1] Snack - Hummus Dip: +2 ACC 
[x1] Meal - Tofu Burger: +2 Protein 

It was confused. Confused and agitated? Again, Pinball was inclined to try and ignore his own assessments, especially when it came to the behavior of a digital animal. They really only had two modes, anyway: passive and aggressive. Right now, Kumatetsu seemed nothing if not aggressive. Its prey had literally up and vanished, and while it could probably "smell" him, it couldn't "see" him. While it frantically sniffed and searched for the missing swordsman, Pinball would be walking half-circles around it; as far as the bear was concerned, in his own separate plane of existence. 

"Here," he murmured, and slid his sword through the space between the monster's shoulder blades. 

Pinball reappeared, and Kumatetsu let out a roar, whirling around faster than Pinball had expected and bringing down a heavy, clawed paw across his shoulder. The boy's knees buckled under the force, but his health was still in the green - and it would be back up to full in what felt like no time at all. For someone who wore nothing to protect himself, Battle Healing was undoubtedly a godsend. 

Action Taken: Sword Art - [Shadow Explosion] [-10 EN/+1 EN] {Well Rested} // SNEAK ATTACK - TRICKSTER + Blindside
Stealth: ID#138476 LD: 15+7= 22 (Stealth Maintained) 
Kimatetsu: ID#138476 BD: 8 (Hit!) MD: 10 (Crit+2) ~ 15*9= 135-50= 85/2= 43 +36 BRN +36 BLIT +36 BLD= 43+108 DMG /// 102 DMG to Pinball 

Pinball: HP: 1138/1240 | EN: 109/124 | DMG: 15 | ACC: 3 | EVA: 3 | BRN: 36 | BLIT: 36 | BLD: 36 | BH: 62 {Vanish: 1/3}

Kumatetsu: HP: 149/300 | DMG: 100 | MIT: 25 | ACC: 0 | EVA: 2 [BRN: 1/2] [BLIT: 1/2] [BLD: 1/2] 
Abilities:
Dodge and Parry: On a player's natural attack roll of 10, the attack will miss «Kumatetsu». Instead «Kumatetsu» will gain a +2 Accuracy and +15 Damage for his next attack.
Beast Form: When «Kumatetsu» is reduced to 150 (or lower) health, he will transform and turn into a bulked-up creature, increasing his damage to 100, but losing his Accuracy and half of his mitigation
Ferocious Roar: When «Kumatetsu» rolls a CD of 10+, he lets out a mighty roar instead of his attack, paralyzing the party.

It was then that Pinball remembered this was something he needed to kill. The monster seemed to realize that too. It became mobile, lumbering towards the scraggly teenager with what could only be described as a practiced patience. Or maybe it was lazy? Pinball used to think he was good at reading people, but those days had long since past. Nowadays, he was unsure in every assessment. 

And then Kumatetsu increased its pace. It broke into a run, thundering towards him, every bound staying true to its massive size and shaking the forest with every heavy impact. Logs were scattered and destroyed as the creature simply shouldered past its obstacles, its beady eyes hungry for its prey. 

Pinball leaned back. 

"Zomekko," he sighed. 

And as the ghostly familiar poured out from the jar fastened to his waist, it spread and coalesced across his avatar in the form of a black fog. Within a moment, Pinball had all but disappeared, leaving nothing but a thin trail of easily dissipitated miasma behind. 

Action Taken: Vanish [-6 EN] 
Stealth: ID#138475 LD: 17+7= 24 Stealth Rating 

Pinball: HP: 1240/1240 | EN: 118/124 | DMG: 15 | ACC: 3 | EVA: 3 | BRN: 36 | BLIT: 36 | BLD: 36 | BH: 62 {Vanish: 0/3}

Kimatetsu: HP: 300/300 | DMG: 75 | MIT: 50 | ACC: 1 | EVA: 2 
Abilities:
Dodge and Parry: On a player's natural attack roll of 10, the attack will miss «Kumatetsu». Instead «Kumatetsu» will gain a +2 Accuracy and +15 Damage for his next attack.
Beast Form: When «Kumatetsu» is reduced to 150 (or lower) health, he will transform and turn into a bulked-up creature, increasing his damage to 100, but losing his Accuracy and half of his mitigation
Ferocious Roar: When «Kumatetsu» rolls a CD of 10+, he lets out a mighty roar instead of his attack, paralyzing the party.

"Kumatetsu?" The words felt foreign on his largely neglected tongue. They rolled out of his mouth in a weird way, a jumbled pronounciation. The quest mob stamped its large paws in reply, kicking up dirt as its steamy breath rose visibly from a snout half-twisted in a snarl. 

Upon closer inspection, its pelt wasn't so beautiful after all. It was covered in splotches of dirt in some places, where leaves and thorned twigs caught and snagged in others. Its eyes were a deep yellow, and the brown around its eyes gave it an even more sinister appearance. In all senses of the word, it was ugly. 

Pinball liked that. He probably didn't look much better off, if he was going to be honest with himself. Matted black locks fell over cold blue eyes as he leveled his tired gaze, dropping the tip of his sword to the dirt. Deplorable reprobate.

He was close, he thought. There were broken twigs and brush that looked like it'd been recently trampled on - a pre-programmed look, by default - and he supposed that he was on the right path. From the guttural huffs in the not-so-distant distance, he surmised that he wasn't too far from the fight, either. 

The fight~! Of course it was a fight. What better activity for the murderous teen himself, flip-flopping between emotional and emotionless, between calm and sad and unhinged bouts of insanity. What great fun. Pinball readjusted his grip on Jack's Hellfire. He could see the creature now. Big, imposing. Well developed muscles rippled under the most beautiful white fur, like winter in the summertime. 

Like winter in the summertime? 

"Ah, that's no good." Two quick swipes got the bushes out of his way, and the monster lifted its head. A bear. That was fitting. Wasn't this a questline, though? As Pinball squinted, tilting his head to the side, the bear let out an impressive roar, revealing its name and healthbar. 

"I'm heeeere~," he cried, "I'm heeeere~. Someone come kiiiilll me~." 

Pathetic and hopeless, carrying a deranged musical twist, his voice rang out. But nobody listened, and nobody came. He was alone again, with only his thoughts to keep him company. He wanted to cry but he found he couldn't. 

"Why can't I dieee~." 

There came a dull throb, either from his head, his throat, or his chest. He couldn't tell which. Maybe it hadn't happened at all. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd imagined things. Pinball could be dreaming now, and he would honestly be none the wiser. It wouldn't have been the first time. No, it wouldn't have. Ah, he was most certainly bitter. 

"Come ouuuut~," he shouted, once more, this time with such wrathful force it nearly rattled his vocal cords. Of course, it didn't, it couldn't, but that's what it'd felt like. He tripped up on an upturned root, but caught himself, his ever-persistent shambling forward not so easily diverted.

They said that recently there was a monster attacking NPCs along the road, instilling fear in the nearby town's inhabitants. Of course, Pinball knew better than to feel something as silly as sympathy for the frightened denizens. They were fake, after all. Jumbles of code, ones and zeroes arranged in such a way to vaguely resemble a person. 

He'd fallen for it, once. Never again. 

As he made his way along the dirt path, a walking corpse, Pinball couldn't hear the chirping of the birds around him or the scuttling of squirrels up coarse bark. Neither could he see the gorgeous stream, glittering like diamonds, or smell the comforting earthen scent of fresh dirt and morning dew. No. To him, it was chilly. Everything was pale, bland, ordinary. 

There were tracks making their way off the well-beaten street. He turned his attention to those, instead. The epitome of tunnel vision. Sickly sweet. 

Why did he even need to do this quest in the first place? He didn't. So why was he doing it? Did he want to? No. He wanted to turn back time. See Mishiro. Or his old guild again. But there was no turning back the clock now. Not after all of this. 

So he needed a distraction. Something to get his mind off of it. And how beautifully ironic - how wonderfully sick - that the killer's only idea of a distraction had something to do with fighting. 

Pinball trudged through the forest begrudgingly, quite literally dragging his boots across the forest floor. There was nothing else for him to do. All he was good for was fighting. Fighting, running, hiding. All skills he'd honed during his time in Aincrad, especially so in the past few months. How wonderfully ironic. How beautifully disgusting. 

He drew his sword. Orange glinted bright in the dappled sunlight, juxtaposed elegantly against his verdant surroundings. 

Player Stats: 

House Buffs: 

A few moments later, another splash echoed throughout the dark cavern. Now, if Pinball hadn't already been soaked to the bone, he would have been considered an unlucky victim of this dungeon's splash zone. Pinball glanced over his shoulder as she pulled herself out of the depths of the pool, coughing up water; which, admittedly, might have been a bit over the top. He wasn't really sure how you could cough up anything when your gag reflex in the game was practically non-existant. Or maybe that was just him. 

"I'm okay," he said. 

Pinball cast a tired gaze over the optional paths. They were everywhere. An expansive network unknown to either of them, there was no no telling which were dead ends, which were connected, and which held dangerous traps or ominous secrets. There was probably some sort of indication as to the right path, as the girl beside him sheepishly suggested. 

But Pinball wasn't in the mood for puzzles right now. 

"I'm going left." 

He went down a path to the left. 

Don't waste his time asking for something he already had. 

For all his stammering and apologies, there were no words to describe the emotion he felt when he read that pop-up. He blinked. Looked back up to Wuotan, who was already making his leave. And then he accepted the quest without a word. Upon acceptance, the pop-up blinked out of existence, taking its leave to the melancholy chime of a bell. 

Pinball avoided making eye contact with Mishiro before she'd all but walked up to him, looking up to him expectantly. Her tone of voice surprised him, and for a few seconds his mind felt like it was lagging behind him. Pinball blinked. Where were they going again? The fair? 

She walked a step ahead of him at all times. He kept a wary eye out for the guards he'd slipped by earlier, only stopping to answer her question. 

"Turn it down...? Like, the gift?" Why would he deserve something like that? Even asking the priest for something in the first place had felt greedy, if what he had requested hadn't sounded cheesy in the first place. But he had to at least try, for as long as he was still here. For as long as he was still here...

"I don't know. Not big on materialism."    

Well, firstly, welcome to the site! Always happy to welcome new people to the community. 

I was looking at your first few threads and I noticed you seem excited to start! That's good, but there's a few things in mind when you're making a thread and looking for partners. 

It's important to keep in mind that there are three different types of threads - Solo Party (SP), Private Party (PP), and Open Party (OP). Generally, one of these three tags should be placed in your thread title. This is to let other players know whether they can join or not! 

Solo Parties are pretty self-explanatory. They're threads reserved for yourself, where you have the freedom to explore Aincrad on your own terms, and write your own story. Private Parties are strictly threads made for you and a group of others! You can invite more people as you go, if everyone in the thread agrees, but usually it's a thread reserved for you and your chosen partners. Open Parties are threads that everyone is able to join. If you're starting out and don't care who joins your thread, slap OP into your title. A word of warning, though, without any direction or interested writing partners, these tend to fizzle out. 

So if you're looking for someone to write with, or you have questions or concerns about the site, it's highly recommended you join our Discord! There, you can ask people to thread with you, or clarify with staff any questions or concerns you might have about our site's rules. It makes communication a LOT easier, and everyone there is a LOT nicer than I am. 

Here's the link: https://discord.gg/p2zsGGJ

And I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with uwu 

@Catlover220134

Just moments ago, his eyes had been locked onto the sword raised so viciously above him. The next, he was greeted by an unobstructed gray sky dotted with white. Pinball blinked, trying to clear his head. And then he brought his hand to his neck. His health was steadily rising, and he was still here.

Mercy? 

Or incompetence? 

Pinball rose to his feet, dragging his sword with him. Though half-shed tears still ran down his face, he looked down now at Bahr with a renewed intensity. He hadn't killed him. He hadn't been able to. Did he know what that meant? The consequences of something like that? The player killer bowed his head, his icy blue eyes sketching lines over the prostrated warrior. He could taste the despair. And he knew it well. 

But even then, he felt a pang of jealousy. Of anger. And then his emotions mellowed out, a deep blue pool in his heart that had once been frozen over. 

Bahr... 

Words couldn't express what he felt. And honestly, Pinball wasn't even sure if he understood what he was feeling. Did he want to die? To fight and survive? Could he really say he'd given it his all in that fight? Was it even over? Did he have to end it? Pinball gripped the handle of his sword tight. One more strike would be all it took, surely. His health was practically nothing at this point. Ending him now would mean he never had to worry about it again. 

The disgusting thought made his stomach curl. Pinball grimaced. 

He didn't deserve it. So Pinball sheathed his sword. Turned his back on him. 

"She wanted me to tell you that she loved you," he repeated. Nothing else. No acknowledgement as to the fight they'd been in just moments ago. No hatred or emotion in his voice. Just a strained apology in the guise of a flippant dismissal.  

Pinball adjusted the color of his cloak, his face held low. 

"Goodbye, Bahr." 

As he made his exit, his figure blurred and scattered, disappearing in the shadows of the snowy waste. 

The familiar seemed unresponsive. Which was, like Lessa said, something Pinball had never seen before. Maybe some sort of powerful paralytic? But why the hell would gorillas have something like a paralysis effect? It was understandably perplexing, but he didn't want to seem rude. The teen tore his gaze away from the apparently unconscious familiar. 

In acknowledgement of her plan, Pinball simply nodded. 

"Of course," he replied, closely followign her health's regeneration. It was slow. Too slow. It felt like it was barely moving at all - or maybe he was just willing time to move faster than it wanted to. Pinball shook his head. "I think you would have been fine." But that was probably just a polite lie. 

He tilted his jaw, half-closing his eyes. Lessa, Lessa... the name sounded familiar, but at the same time it was anything but. She had a connection with Bahr, though, so that made her dangerous. Didn't it? Through this loopy sort of daze his mind seemed perpetually caught in, Pinball connected the dots and finally came up with an appropriate response. 

"Kobold," he said, "it's nice to meet you." 

Not even comparable? 

In between increasingly anxious breaths, Pinball turned the sentiment over in his head. The reality, he reasoned, was that it just wasn't true at all. 

Pinball had always believed that Sugutsuya had done something to her; that he'd manipulated her in some way. She never would have taken that jump otherwise. Right? The truth was that he hadn't and would never get the chance to find out. The way the sketchy info-broker had talked and the things he had talked about had pushed him over the edge. Sugutsuya's death had been the result of an untimely emotional break; all of his stress, anger, sadness, and his drive to hurt had been brought out of him as he drove the spear through the man's throat. 

Likewise, it had been Pinball that drove Bahr off the side of that cliff. How much had he taken from him? Pinball was a cyclone, an overwhelming force of destructive behaviour that let himself into the world and destroyed everything that people had worked so hard to build. And after all was said and done, he vanished, refusing to rake responsibility and lazily pinning the blame on... something. 

As Sugutsuya had been to Pinball, Pinball was to Bahr. Their paths were the same. It was just the forests surrounding them that looked a little different. 

So, Bahr did look like him. He saw himself in him and then he saw so much more. What he could have been. Respected, trusted, surrounded by friends that loved him. Pinball wanted that so badly, now. But all his life he'd done nothing but push people away and lash out at those who got too close. And why? Because he was hurting? Because he thought he didn't deserve it? Pinball had had so many chances to do better if he had just taken that scary leap and let people in. But he'd taken the low road, and there was a toll booth coming. 

It felt like no matter what he did, he ended up back in this position. This time, he wouldn't be struggling to get away. As Bahr's weapon glowed a fierce crimson once more, and Pinball looked death in the eyes, his resolve was absolute. 

Even if his health hit 0, Pinball wouldn't die. He had too much to lose for it to just end like that. And no matter how comforting the thought of the afterlife was, Pinball didn't want any of it. Hell was a cold place. 

"I haven't felt anything in months," he replied.

Why? Everything felt blurry. Like he couldn't quite focus. 

"It gets easier every time," he laughed, his voice thick with emotion. "I hate it." 

Action Taken: NONE 

Bahr: HP: 407/1110 | EN: 78/108 | DMG: 22 | MIT: 79 | ACC: 5 | EVA: 6 | FLN: 12 | BLD: 36 | HB: 24 | BH: 33 | PHASE | INCARCERATION | PERPETUATE [264 DoT: 3/4]

Pinball: HP: 171/1240 | EN: 111/124 | DMG: 17 | ACC: 5 | EVA: 6 | BRN: 36 | BLIT: 36 | BLD: 36 | TV: 24 | BH: 62 | STUNNED

Pinball shook it off. Atzo, huh? In the flesh. For a moment, Pinball wondered if Stryder knew - and then, just as quickly, he decided he didn't care. They hadn't been on good terms for a long time. As a matter of fact, the last time they'd talked had been when he'd attacked the guild. 

God. Pinball really was a basketcase, wasn't he? It made him sick to the stomach. 

Making a mental note to pay Stryder a visit after the others on Kirbs' list, and then shoved thoughts of his killings to the side. Now wasn't the time for that. His stomach wanted ribs, and - even though he didn't deserve them - Pinball was going to get himself some ribs. Once more over the garden wall, Pinball was sure this time not to linger. Past the trees, Pinball would skirt around the edge of the house so as to avoid the people gathering in the garden. 

The next part was the trickiest. He ran up the side of the house, kicking once, twice, and then pushed off backwards to grab the edge of the roof and pull himself up. Pinball knew, as he pushed himself onto his side, that he definitely would not have been able to do something like that in real life. 

From there, he had to repeat the first step of his mission: scoping the place out. Staying low on the roof and using it as cover, Pinball would slowly creep forward, and then come to rest on his knee. He squinted. 

Baldur, Atzo, a girl he didn't recognize, another girl he didn't recognize... nothing too interesting. 

But-! There it was. A table full of food; stacked high with mountains of meats and other hearty foods. Pinball's mouth was practically watering at the sight of it. He ran the sleeve of his jacket. Calm yourself. 

Now, now... how to do this? 

Action Taken: [Hiding] 
Stealth: ID#135493 LD: 17+7= 24 Stealth Rating 

“Bahr?”

The name echoed in his mind and burned what felt like a hole in his stomach. He knew Bahr. Bahr was on his list, and was probably the most dangerous person on it. He’d fought him before. Bahr knew him. And he was sure that Bahr hated him with a fury unimaginable. 

So if this chick was somehow related to the snow-haired swordsman, it would probably do him good to steer clear of her completely. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Not yet, at least. For now, Pinball would simply go on as if he hadn’t heard her. 

He tried to steady his own, racing heartbeat and studied the woman’s face, doing his best to maintain a neutral expression. “I think so,” Pinball said, though he didn’t push it any further than that. 

It was when she mentioned her familiar that Pinball came to life. He hadn’t planned on sticking around any longer than it took for her to regenerate her health, but he was eager to latch onto the momentary distraction regardless. 

“Wolf?” Pinball started, casting his gaze around the clearing. “No, uh - oh.” 

Pinball’s eyes locked onto a particularly thorny looking thicket a few feet away from them. A fuzzy lump of fur, lying on its side, pressed the bushes firmly into the dirt. It looked about as damaged as Lessa herself - almost as if they shared a health bar. Pinball wondered, for a moment, how the two had gotten themselves into that situation - tossed around by one of the screaming gorillas like a man swatted at flies. 

“Over there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the seemingly unconscious lupine follower. How had it been flung that far away? It probably didn’t matter. At least they were safe.

Yes, at least they’re safe, Pinball thought mockingly, and all thanks to you. Since when have you gotten it into your head to play hero? 

He couldn't help but grimace. 

A new questline with a silly name: Scents of the Wild.

The rewards of which quests, however, if the rumors were to be believed, were anything but. Gifting players with a hefty amount of experience and a unique reward for your typical fetch-and-kill type mission, the Skill Points themselves would prove an enticing enough prize for someone like him. But there was another quest reward. For each Scents of the Wild monster you killed, you'd also be rewarded a special stone. If you were to gather all six of these stones - er, well, something special would happen. Allegedly. Pinball hadn't heard of anyone actually gathering all six yet. 

But it was that mystery and the promise of digital strength that brough him to the 16th Floor. A prime vacation spot for players, apparently. There were a lot of beach parties held here. Pinball could see the appeal. It had a volcanic, tropical sort of theme to it, and the many islands dotting the watery haven didn't have bridges connecting them to one another like on the verdant 24th Floor. There was that sort of melancholy, castaway feeling in the air; when you were alone on an island, the only sounds to be heard the singing of birds and the crashing of waves, you could almost convince yourself that you were the last person alive.  

There was a monster to be hunted, though, so Pinball didn't give himself the luxury of relaxation. He headed straight to the Forest of Haunting Echoes. He figured that if he had to hunt a boss, that the infamous forest was probably the best place to start. But something drew him further inland, compelling him to leave his little rowboat behind and travel further into the depths of the woods. They say that it was one of the more dangerous parts of Aincrad, but Pinball's level would protect him. There wasn't anything on this floor that would prove dangerous to the teenage swordsman. 

He walked, switching his brain to auto pilot. And he walked. And he walked some more, until he lost track of time and came to rest against the trunk of a tree, gazing wistfully up at the cracks of the sunlit canopy. After a few moments, his eyes slowly closed, and he drifted off into what would probably have been a peaceful sleep. But the roars in the distance wouldn't stop. The gorillas were loud, and the Forest of Haunting Echoes was not, apparantly, the best place to take a nap.

It was also, he found, aptly named. 

What felt like every other second there was a noise - the scream of a bird, the roar of a gorilla, the crack of some tree branch he couldn't see. But the most prominent out of all of them were the gorillas. And it was the call of those gorillas that caused him to stand up, calmly draw his sword, and head towards the one that sounded closest to him. 

As he neared, he heard other things. The soft brushing of plants against his trousers as he walked through the brush, the swing of something heavy, and the not-so-quiet cursing of a person. Pinball frowned. That wasn't right. He quickened his pace and then moved without thinking. 

Four slashes at his torso, quicker than the eye could follow. Then, seemingly hanging in the air, the boy swung the flat of his weapon like a baseball bat across the already weakened monster's face, sending him flying into the ground. From there, landing like a feather, Pinball swiftly strode forward, bringing his sword back in a practiced arc, and dispatched the creature. It shattered to the sound of breaking glass. 

"You almost had it," Pinball remarked, his voice soft and low. 

The young man turned to face her, taking in her features. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a green cursor, a nearly depleted health bar. Pinball considered handing her a potion but thought better of it. He figured a green player on the brink of death would be understandably wary of an orange player suddenly appearing from nothing. He resolved to instead sheathe his sword, stowing the fiery colored blade on his hip. 

Impaled. A sword ran so forcefully through his chest he’d been nailed to the ground. Not that he could do much to resist it. The snow gave way around him as the weapon sank into the frozen, cracked earth beneath his form. It was almost too fitting, wasn’t it? To be on the receiving end of this weapon, on this floor, by this person. 

Despite himself, Pinball let out what might have been a strangled chuckle. 

“People change,” he croaked, but there was no denying that there was fear in his voice. In his eyes. He’d prepared so thoroughly because he knew Bahr would be trouble. Because he used to be like him. Pinball’s mind was racing, adrenaline coursing through him and making him shake. Pinball wondered, for a brief, sick moment, whether doctors and nurses were standing by his body now, waiting to pull the plugs on the equipment they’d wired him up with. They’d surely seen it before; the moments before a person’s death. Were they there, waiting for the Nervegear to fry his brain? Did they care if it did? 

They’d be making a mistake, if so, Pinball thought. He couldn’t stop reminiscing about his time spent on Aincrad. Quickly, like running your fingers through the pages of a book. The good times. The mistakes that outnumbered them. But he thought of snow and he thought of blood and he thought of a face - of many faces, one after the other. Most were dead, some weren’t, and others still were people he could barely stand to look at.

He couldn’t die. He couldn’t. There was no ifs or buts. It wasn’t his time. Not yet. There were things that needed to be done, still. Things he had to see through. 

But he couldn’t move. The Paralysis blinked like a walk light next to his steadily draining HP, counting down the seconds it would take for him to break free. Would it be enough time? 

“She wanted me to meet you,” Pinball repeated, “and she wanted me to tell you that she loved you. You and others.”

Hot tears welled up in his eyes, but it only made him angry. His face twisted violently. “I don’t know why she forgave me,” he snarled. She shouldn’t have. He’d been a bastard until the very end. “I didn’t want her forgiveness. I was a monster. I still am. There’s no justifying it. And I’m not trying to.” 

The paralysis would fade, and he’d grasp the weapon with both hands. Push it up. Away. He knew that thrill that came with the pursuit of a kill. The satisfaction and empowering sensation of ending a life. He’d seen it pass over him, in that brief moment. Before his effects had activated. 

Pinball knew now, that his strength wouldn’t be enough. Bahr could probably end him before Pinball could finish it. 

The teenager had tried to get through this nonviolently, but deep down, he knew that it was always going to end like this. Bahr was the one person on the list he’d known would try to kill him, no matter which way he’d twisted it. So he’d approached honestly. And he still would. Pinball had wanted it all to stop. Violence breeds violence as death breeds death. He’d promised himself he’d avoid it at all costs. And he’d tried. He really had. 

Through tears and a savage rage, Pinball would free himself. Scurried away like the rat he was, scrambling to his feet. He spat venom as he stood, not unlike the anger Bahr had confronted him with when they’d met here. 

“But that look on your face? You looked just like me. I wish you could’ve seen it.” 

Pinball didn’t bother raising his weapon. There was no point. He could take one more hit. Bahr would close the distance for him. One of them wasn’t going to be walking away from this. And this time? He didn’t speak. He wouldn’t have been given the chance to.

Besides, “a picture paints a thousand words.” Pinball had always thought blood would look pretty in the snow. 

Action Taken: NONE 

Bahr: HP: 638/1110 | EN: 78/108 | DMG: 22 | MIT: 79 | ACC: 5 | EVA: 6 | FLN: 12 | BLD: 36 | HB: 24 | BH: 33 | PHASE | INCARCERATION | PERPETUATE [264 DoT: 2/4]

Pinball: HP: 649/1240 | EN: 111/124 | DMG: 17 | ACC: 5 | EVA: 6 | BRN: 36 | BLIT: 36 | BLD: 36 | TV: 24 | BH: 62 | STUNNED

Between Mishiro and Wuotan's explanations, Pinball would quickly have a better idea as to the identity of this mysterious NPC. Strange. He'd almost mistaken him for an actual player until he'd glanced up at his cursor. Pinball should have known better. He'd never met someone so old in the game before. But there was life in those eyes, wasn't there? Hyper-intelligent AI was supposed to be rare; but these days, it was almost like Pinball could have a full blown conversation with any random NPC he passed on the street. 

The times are changing, Pinball thought, then pushed his contemplations aside. 

Mishiro quieted down, busying herself with something else. Wuotan's intense gaze had dropped, but he still felt it on him. An eerie, lingering sort of feeling. Like his skin was being pricked all over. The priest's words rang in his ears. Clemency? He tried to swallow his nervousness. 

Nervousness? When was the last time he'd felt nervous? It probably had something to do with the girl standing beside him. 

Embarrassed, and chiding himself for feeling so, Pinball considered what it was he wanted. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that what he wanted couldn't be given him to some old NPC priest in a bathrobe. He squirmed uncomfortably. Mishiro was right next to him, and by now, she'd already asked him for a gift, opting to writing her choice on a slip of paper. Pinball felt the briefest flash of curiosity, mingled with an unusually sharp sense of longing, but those feelings were quickly suppressed. 

He had to say something. So he spoke, the suddenness of his own voice shocking him. 

"I don't want a pardon. And honestly, father, I don't care much about presents." 

Pinball fidgeted, then berated himself for it. He didn't like acting like this. But he couldn't help it. And he had to be honest here. He wasn't talking to Wuotan. Not really. It was a promise to himself, and a promise to Mishiro. She's seen you at your worst more than once, Pinball told himself, so you don't really have to worry about being truthful here, do you? 

The thought hurt him.

"I want the strength to make things right. As right as they can be, anyway."

Silence would hang between them for a moment, and he'd quickly amend what he'd said. "Of course, I don't expect you to be able to like - like, you know. I'll take whatever it is you think fits what I want. Or nothing. I don't... care. Sorry." He glanced at Mishiro. "Sorry." 

He must be seeing ghosts. 

Why else would Atzo, of all people, so leisurely stroll up to adress him? It wasn't as if Pinball was anywhere near the entrance of the mansion, either. It would have been quite a bit of a walk to make it to where Pinball stood lurking. But here he was, in front of him, relaxed - the man who'd started it all. The man he barely knew. 

For a moment, all he could do was gawk. 

And then he stirred, something inside of him shifting, and he revealed himself fully to him. Orange cursor and all. He wasn't armed at the moment, and he wore no armor - but there was a certain relaxation in his form that betrayed him. His stance was too relaxed. Deceptively so. Pinball wouldn't return the greeting. Instead, he'd set his jaw, his gaze dropping an inch. 

"I suggest you forget seeing me here. Understand?" 

And he'd take a step away. Wordlessly, he'd run up the side of the tree, using that momentum to kick off and hit the top of the wall. By then, it was only a matter of pulling himself up and swinging his legs over. Without so much as a noise, Pinball would drop on the other side of the mansion, once more safely outside its perimeter. 

Atzo. Here. Where had he been, all of this time? And why did he meet him now, of all times? 

Try as he might, Pinball struggled to ease the heavy beating of his heart.

Action Taken: [Hiding] 
Stealth: ID#135917 LD: 1+7= 8 (You're kidding me) 

Pinball jumps outside of the mansion's wall again. Still nowhere near the entrance - far from it, in fact 
leave me alone i want my ribs 

also atzo im coming back for you later 

An invitation. Fliers spread throughout the floor - if you could call a vast collection of islands a floor. A mansion, staggering in both its scale and beauty. 

And the tantalizing promise of a barbeque. Pinball must have reread the thing twenty times, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it. When was the last time he'd had good, player-made food? Or even if it wasn't player-made, when was the last time he'd eaten something with some flavor? It felt like for months, the only thing he'd eaten was the plain, unseasoned taste of fish and wild game. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he'd been able to spice it with herbs. Most of the time he hadn't been so fortunate. 

So this event seemed almost too good to be true. 

The only problem? It was a social gathering. And Pinball would probably be about as welcome to the party as a Nazi at a bar mitzvah. 

But Pinball was serious about this. He was dedicated. By God, he was going to get his share of this barbeque - out of spite, if nothing else. He promised himself that. With a solemn nod, Pinball got down to business. 

The first thing he had to do was scope the place out. There weren't exactly any prominent vantage points to speak of - it was a walled sort of property, and there were two guards stationed on its perimeter, by the front entrance. A bit useless, with such a big area to cover, huh? Maybe they were just for show. The rich loved their flash. He couldn't make out their cursor color from the distance he kept between them, so whether they were Player or NPC, Pinball had no clue. It didn't matter, anyhow. They'd be all too easy to bypass. The problem would really come down to sneaking around the people roaming around - but he'd burn that bridge when he came to it.  

Getting in was simple. Head around to one of the sides, get a running start, and kick yourself up onto and then over the wall. With Cardinal and his level working in tandem to massively exaggerate his dexterity, the normally insurmountable obstacle was all too easy to surmount. He hit the ground quietly, and the hunt was on. He could smell the food in the air already, see the dotted silhouettes of people making their way inside. 

There were trees where he'd dropped. He swung around one, pressing his back against the cool bark, and faded away into nothing. 

This was just the beginning. 

Action Taken: [Hiding] 
Stealth: ID#135182 LD: 2+7= 9 Stealth Rating 

But he's nowhere near the entrance and behind a tree. Try it, I dare you. 
Death to those who'd take my ribs away from me.