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Mishiro
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Posts posted by Mishiro
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And now the pieces were coming together. The second mention of the name Sugutsuya. Sugutsuya was dating Lucy. Pinball liked Lucy, and back when she was alive, it turned out that she liked him back. But Pinball only found that out after Lucy had died. He never told her about the rest of her recording, but she suspected that he came to the conclusion: "Sugutsuya was one of the reasons why Lucy killed herself." Yet it wasn't simply a murder out of spite. Before he disappeared from her friend list, Pinball warned her to stay away from Sugutsuya. The reason ran along the lines of, "He's a shady broker who deals with secrets, personal information, and other things that shouldn't be brought to light." And then, the item. It was puzzling. If it was truly a worthless item, why would Pinball and Froppy go through all the trouble of searching for it in the mountains and why would Sugutsuya steal it from them?Put all the pieces of information together, and you get the motive. It was not out of a blind, emotional outburst. No, it seemed directed at one person in particular, and that person had frequently been a source of distress in the past. But it was not purely out of justice, nor revenge.She sensed him struggling to speak. She already knew everything, or at least enough to grasp the context of the situation, perhaps now was the time to ask him to stop? Mishiro gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "Pin, that's--"He pulled away from her. He turned his head and she saw his eyes. The next words, he spoke in a whisper. "Three hits.""It's..." She almost recoiled. She could imagine it. Swinging a spear thrice. Their body dissolving into shards. They couldn't even fight back. Given that, what was she supposed to say? "It's fine?" No. Killing someone was never "fine." But here was a killer right in front of her and he also happened to be one of her closest friends. He was starting to repeat himself now and she figured it was the time to stop. "It's alright. You don't need to say--""I could have stopped myself!" He jumped to his feet and she followed. She thought she heard something shatter behind her. Oh, the part of her mind that was still functioning properly noted. She'd knocked the mug over and now the coffee had spilled over the grass.This wasn't good. This wasn't helping him anymore. If anything, this was just bringing back bad memories."--But I didn't! Because, because, I..."Why had she thought this was a good idea?"--I enjoyed it. I enjoyed every god... damn... second of it..."Why couldn't she bring herself to say something?! Her legs felt frozen to the ground - all she could think was that she'd somehow f*cked this up so badly that the normally soft, quiet Pinball was now screaming at her - and it took all of her strength to force herself to take a step forward. But what was she going to do? What was the right thing to do? She reached out to him. If her words couldn't work, then----and then, he sank to the ground. Mishiro drew her hand back. She thought he'd finished, but then he pushed himself up again and started pacing. Wait. That... wasn't all?"We got into a fight. [...] What do I do? What do I do? Do I run away?"She didn't like this. She didn't like conflict. She didn't like it when people yelled at her. She didn't like it when... when she looked into his eyes, all she could see was anger and pain. He was hurting himself by bringing up those memories, and she was also at fault for bringing it up in the first place."Pin."Her hands went to her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut."I cut the c*nt's [censored] HAND OFF! Guess who's sword that is!""I didn't mean for this to happen! Please, stop!"And then it was quiet.Mishiro took her hands off her ears."I-it's Dustin's, obviously..." Her voice trembled and so did her hands, as she brought them to her chest. Not quite a fighting stance, but she looked defensive all the same. "A-and, hands and other body parts can regenerate, so..." She didn't finish that. Instead, with much effort, she lifted her gaze from where she had been staring down at the grass beneath her feet. Her vision was blurry. Tears poured down her cheeks, and she hastily brought an armored hand up to wipe them away. "I-I didn't... I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She took a few steps back, repeating her apologies like a broken record. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just--I just wanted to..."Wanted to, what?Mishiro stopped talking entirely and took another step back.What now?
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He was staring down at his empty cup, eyebrows furrowed as if he were deep in thought. Mishiro raised the mug to her lips and drank, just to give herself something to do. The fingers on her free hand drummed a beat, a familiar beat to a song she couldn't put a name to, against the table, and after a bit, the boy lifted his head and gave her a small smile. He asked her a simple question.Depressingly enough, she found that she couldn't answer it as immediately as she could with a complicated math problem."For fun, huh? Um," she paused and took the time to collect her thoughts. It could be anything, right? Or were there things the social code - or whatever they called it now - dictated she couldn't say to a stranger. "I draw. Sometimes I walk around the settlement and draw whatever catches my attention, but mostly, I do commissions. And, I- Every Sunday, I go out and spend time with a close friend of mine. How about you?"
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Mishiro accepted the hand that was offered to her and shook it firmly. Alright. Now she was at least acquainted with the groom. Then he stepped closer and in a voice low enough that only she could hear, he asked the usual question. She had to hold back a laugh. "If she talks to you and teases you in that same manner every day, you sort of develop an immunity to it," she responded, speaking softly so her purple-haired friend wouldn't hear. Then she took a step back and gave a more serious response. This one was loud enough to be heard by Arabelle, and vague enough for the small girl to start overthinking things. "And it has a certain charm to it, I guess. Makes you smile sometimes, doesn't it?"
She stepped back and watched Hazado and Arabelle's proceeding interactions with a small smile. Her friend mentioned earlier that they hadn't seen each other in a while, but they still seemed quite close. Like a big brother and a mischievous little sister.
Her attention drifted to the other guests. Most having conversations with their friends, and a few simply sitting to the side and waiting for the ceremony to start. She didn't know any of them. They were all unfamiliar, people she had never once encountered in her--wait. Hestia the police chief, conversing with a blonde woman in a black dress. Mishiro considered approaching her, just to say hi and give an update, but then decided to reserve it for later. She seemed busy.
Mishiro tapped Arabelle on the shoulder and gestured to the seats on the second-to-the-last row. "I'll be there."
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Pinball was a terrible storyteller. They'd come up to the happenings in the last boss battle, and still there was no explanation from him regarding his sudden disappearance from her friend list and those months without contact. But if Mishiro had to guess, it had to have occurred around the time period when he said he'd distanced himself from the guild. "I've heard of that fight," she commented quietly. She needed to talk more - just to assure him she was still listening. "From a friend, who's known for exaggerating things. Is it really true that one of the frontliners protected the boss?"He mentioned that he enjoyed fighting. There was nothing wrong with that. Many players still enjoyed fighting. The game's main feature was its combat system and Mishiro herself was drawn in for that very reason. However, she wasn't sure if she still related to him. Did she enjoy fighting? Definitely not as much as she did on the first day. For the past three years, she'd stayed true to her role as a crafter and hardly engaged in combat aside from that one instance with the silver-haired shielder and the Laughing Coffin. She saved a girl named Jinx. But she still remembered how it felt. That fear. That feeling of helplessness as her teammates' - Roman, he wasn't even meant to be there - HP trickled down to the yellow zones. That feeling of disgust when he explained to her what the Laughing Coffin recruits were doing. She'd saved a life. But she didn't want to go through that experience ever again."Don't disregard it," she warned, referring to Hidden and Aereth's threats. Threatening someone just for defending another player... why would they even...? People couldn't be that shallow. There had to be another reason. "I mean, if they go after you... there's two of them, both at frontline-level, and only one of you." Well, it was obvious. He would have thought about it already. "Really, when you're talking about your life, try to sound less dismissive," Mishiro sighed, turning in his direction but not quite looking directly at him.He stopped talking.Was he going to continue? Should she push further? If she did, what was the probability that their conversation would... take a turn for the worse? What was the best option for these types of situations? For some reason, she couldn't decide."That can't be all, Pin," was all she said.
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The boy in front of her hesitantly sipped from his drink. Mishiro waited patiently. Then, he must have liked it, as he suddenly tilted the cup upwards and chugged the steaming hot vanilla latte down. The virtual world had significantly toned down on their pain parameters, but... to put it simply, hot things were still hot. While it wouldn't kill you, chugging the entire thing down as one would do with a keg of beer was not a good idea. "Hey! Easy..." She stood up, leaning forward. Her pale fingers brushed against the base of the paper cup, and finding it empty, she decided her attempt at prevention was to no avail and sat back down.
He gave only one word that summed the whole situation up: "Ow."
"Pffft. Hahahahaha!" Her hand went to her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to restrain her laughter. "Really, I already told you it was a vanilla latte. Are you new to coffee or something? You drank it like a drunkard would down his beer!" Then she calmed down after a few, and her face turned red in embarrassment. She hardly ever spoke like that to Arabelle - well, maybe, sometimes Roman. But that was beside the point. It was unnatural of her. She turned her head to the side, looking at anyone but the odd player. "Um, uh... Sorry if that sounded rude. But try to drink slowly next time. You'll relish the taste more."
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Mishiro turned to face him, searching for something, anything, that offered a hint in his deep blue eyes. It was important - it had to be if he was reacting this way - but right now all she could see was sadness and a bit of disappointment. Was it supposed to be something she could figure out easily given the context? "Pin, it's fine, you can..." she cut herself off. Something that he didn't want to talk about. The reason why he didn't want to say it out loud lied in the secret itself..."Why can't you understand that I don't want to talk about it?! I don't want you to know!""...""Shiromi? Oh god. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Shiromi, I didn't mean it - wait, don't leave--"Standing under the rain on a dark, stormy night.Suddenly, Mishiro didn't want to push any further. She'd figure it out herself if she had to. Her grip on his hand loosened. He was already telling her the rest. More unfamiliar names. Froppy. Embers. Paglikha: Filipino word for 'the act of creating'. One loved him. The other two may have been his friends. He hurt all of them. Suddenly, it didn't seem as if he was simply telling her his side of things anymore. Their conversation resembled that which occurred in a confessional. Tell the priest your sins, he grants you absolution, gives you penance, and you leave unburdened. She wasn't sure how to feel about that.She idly turned his hand over and intertwined her fingers with his. In front of them, the fire burned and he continued telling his story.
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"You are defeated. Please surrender." Mishiro gently lowered the stunned assassin's arm to the ground and paused to catch her breath. Her gaze once again moved to the upper-left corner of her vision. HP in the green, EN at 15%. Roman and Jinx both in the yellow. The former's HP ticking down slowly the two continued to trade blows behind her, and the latter staying still and slowly recovering. She tossed her hair over her shoulder - why hadn't she braided it earlier? - and took a deep breath. When she exhaled, someone landed on the grass beside her with a loud thump. Jinx! She whipped around and spotted the shielder's other opponent. Their gazes met and they seemed to come to a silent agreement that they were now each other's target.Her non-dominant arm snapped to block the opponent's swing and she twisted, her next punch aimed directly for their attacking arm. Seconds later, they were on the ground beside their teammate. Two down. She ran over to help Jinx up. Behind her, the clashing of metal abruptly stopped. “...the time of birth has come, He is the one who masters all.” Everyone's HP values rose back up to the green, at the expense of a large portion of their support's energy. "Then, leave. We'll allow it."Mishiro patted the tank's shoulder in silent reassurance and looked for Roman. They were standing still, quite a distance from each other. Was it over?[ooc disclaimer: Roman's field medic chant is not mine]
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December 5, 2025
"Aniki rejected her invite, so she's dragging me along instead. What a demanding person," Mishiro groused, to no one in particular. The girl pulling her by the hand heard none of it. She was engrossed in telling the less-sociable Mishiro about the latest gossips in town. Arabelle didn't seem to like the quiet, or the idea of being alone. Even now, as they were walking towards the wedding venue, she filled every lull in the conversation with one of her funny stories. That was fine with her and it wasn't annoying in any way. Her friend was an entertaining storyteller. But as fun as it was, there was a better place to be right now - at home, finishing the two criminal sketches she'd volunteered to do. One of her friend, the other of a complete stranger with nothing but a vague description to work with. And there was also the matter of somehow reconciling her orange-cursored friend with the police department, most of whom perceived him as a frontliner gone rogue. One thing was for certain. He had to tell Hestia everything himself, in the same manner he did to her last week. Hearing it firsthand was the only way she could be completely convinced of his... partial innocence. But, the more problematic members of the APD couldn't be there. Who were they again? A boy in a blue hood, and the brown-haired swordsman who called himself Dustin. While resolving misunderstandings between them was good in itself, having them meet before the situation was effectively de-escalated carried the risk of a confrontation.
"Shiro-chan. Heyyy, you're not even listening. Were you thinking about that thing again? He's surely been on your mind a lot. A lot more than your best friend. Meanie!" Arabelle looked up at her with a pout. "I was telling you about that one time I went to a beach party. It was here in Floor 16. Somewhere... down there. See it?"
She looked down at their intertwined hands before her gaze followed the direction Arabelle indicated to her. They were quite a ways off from the main settlement, Zugaiko-... something, and climbing up a grassy hill that overlooked the sea. Just a few footsteps from where they were standing, the ground suddenly dropped down to a steep cliff and waves washed against its rocks. "Not there, dummy." Mishiro's gaze followed the coastline until she sighted a long stretch of sand in the distance. There were players, too. Playing in the water. A breeze carrying the scent of the sea moved past them and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She relaxed slightly. This was a pretty floor. Peaceful, and it reminded her of the beach she frequented with her friends in Japan. When she opened her eyes, Arabelle was smiling up at her innocently. "Pretty, right? Let's go there with Claude some other day."
Mishiro nodded and they continued on their walk.
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Upon arriving at the venue, Mishiro was reminded of another reason why she didn't want to go. She didn't belong here. She was dressed for the occasion, with a simple sleeveless blue dress and white flats and her hair combed and swept to the side. But it was a small wedding - evident by the number of seats they had set - and it seemed to be reserved for a close circle of friends. One that she was definitely not part of. She barely knew this "Haz" person Arabelle talked about so much, and she didn't know who Neapolitan was either. Right off the bat, her friend tried to make her comfortable. There was that teasing Mishiro was familiar with. "No. I'm not thinking of anyone," was her disinterested reply. But I guess it would be nice if I had someone like that.
Arabelle, again, didn't hear it. She had taken off once again, dragging her along. Mishiro was led over to the groom and quickly introduced. "Good afternoon," she greeted politely. "Congratulations on your wedding."
[ooc: tag @Hazado and @Arabelle. final edit. outfit in spoiler. if i got the date wrong, just correct me or something]
Spoiler
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Directly contact Hestia herself? One of the strongest frontliners and also the future chief of the Aincrad Police Department? Mishiro felt her face warm up at the implications before she took a deep breath and convinced herself to disregard her personal feelings on the matter. Thankfully, since she had been standing behind the more flamboyant Roman (hint: pink hair), it wasn't that noticeable. "Thank you, Miss Hestia," Mishiro gave a small, polite bow. This was an opportunity. If she could convince the head of the APD herself that Pinball wasn't as much of a "wild card" as he was, perhaps it could de-escalate the situation and allow him a chance to re-enter the frontline scene. "Hidden's might need a few drafts, but I'll try to get it done within the week too.""Well, it's better late than never. I guess the situation does demand for it." He glanced at the 'Wanted' posters, particularly Pinball's, then back at Hestia. He chuckled at the frontliner's comment about reckless players. "Oh, you wouldn't imagine. Some players I've had to deal with... I guess you can say they don't know the difference between bravery and recklessness."Mishiro immediately recalled that encounter with the Laughing Coffin, and the eyepatched shielder... She didn't like assuming, but was that intended to be a 'jab'? Arabelle called it that, and it seemed to fit into the description. She tilted her head up and gave him That Look."Not you." Whatever she was about to say and the pout on her face, disappeared with a headpat. And so did the playful mood when Pinball's name was brought up. "Pinball first?" From the corner of her eye, she saw him glance at her. She gave no obvious reaction, other than a simple nod. If it was Roman tracking him down... "Alright. I'll try to look around the floors that info broker mentioned earlier. If I recall correctly, it was 5, 9, 14, and 16..."Eventually, the impromptu meeting(?) approached its conclusion.[ooc: still have some things i could write, but i'm fine with the thread closing after this.]
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And he was back to being awkward. He must have sensed her apprehension from earlier. But Mishiro already had a hint as to how things worked. Act friendly, and he'll stop being nervous. Act distant and formal, and he'll retreat into himself and try to act formal too. Which means... she had to be the assertive one here. She didn't know how to be assertive. She was used to hiding behind Roman and letting him do all the talking. How troublesome. But, Mishiro didn't want to leave him alone after going out of her way to invite him and it was a good opportunity to brush up on her social skills."A looksie...?" Mishiro set her mug down and leaned forward. She tucked her hair behind her ear and peered into the paper cup. Light brown with swirls of white. It smelled like coffee. She looked up at him and tilted her head to the side. "It looks like... a vanilla latte, I think."
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"...and you know that I forgive you for that," she responded automatically. They had that conversation a few months ago and whatever resentment she'd felt towards him was gone. "Well, maybe Aniki acts like he doesn't. But he can't keep disapproving of one of my friends forever." Mishiro continued with a lighthearted tone and a glimmer in her eyes that only appeared when she was talking about a certain person.He continued his story. Stryder, Mars, the Emerald Harbingers, and the Guardians. Names he had dropped in his stories before, yet she never got the chance to meet them. To have taken her friend in and gained his trust even after what happened with Lucy... they must be nice people. They did something she couldn't have done back then and she was grateful for it. Mishiro had to meet them sometime. Either Stryder or Mars. Then she could give them a proper thanks."Do you know why I don't wear armor that protects me? Th-there's a reason for that."The first answer she could think of was mobility. Less heavy armor, more speed in battle. It was practically a requirement for pure DPS builds, and from what she knew of his stats, Pinball seemed to be aiming for some sort of glass cannon build. Less protection, more damage. It was a build reliant on others to support it. But, that couldn't be the answer. Not when she felt him look at her with a gaze holding some expectation. What else was it supposed to mean? Light armor made you move faster. That was all there is to it. Mishiro frowned. His pure-DPS build. Something he didn't - couldn't - say out loud. Numbers and emotions. Was there a connection? She didn't have an answer.The campfire was reflected in her grey eyes. But they were blank. He didn't find what he was looking for."No. But tell me about it."
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Was he... crying? For a few moments, Mishiro lingered between two choices: stopping this conversation where it was to comfort him or sitting back, waiting if he had something to say. Due to her indecisiveness, she ended up doing the latter. He fell back onto the ground with his hands covering his face. From where she was seated, she could see the tears running down his face. Her heart dropped. "Pin?" Perhaps this wasn't the best thing to do after all. She'd opted to do it with her usual approach, systematic and straight to the point. Identify the problem. Find a solution. But. Maybe it didn't apply so well when it comes to emotions. It was time to improvise. She moved forward, then hesitated and glanced back at her untouched food and drink. Ugh. As good as his cooking was, she didn't feel like finishing it now. Still, she took the plate and the mug along with her and seated herself by his side, setting it down on the grass in front of her. "I'm sorry." She'd made that mistake again. Her habit of pushing too hard. It was the same thing that almost ended their friendship two years ago. "If you don't want to say anything..."Then he sat up and started to talk. She was surprised at the mention of the name Lucy, and the new information he gave her. Right from the start? So it extended this far back? She didn't understand how this had been going on without her noticing it. "Feelings...?" She wasn't aware of that either. Another familiar name. Sugutsuya, Lucy's then-boyfriend and a shady information broker. But why, she thought as she listened to his story, was she only hearing about this now? They had been friends for months. Didn't friends confide in each other?"I could have done something." He curled into himself as he admitted that. She didn't speak. The only sounds that could be heard in the clearing were his sobs.She reverted back to logic. A survivor's guilt of sorts. When you lose someone precious, you would often think about how you could have saved them. Mishiro didn't have any firsthand experiences, other than the slight bout of guilt over Lucy's death and her separation from Pinball - she'd known the lovely red-haired girl, too - but she knew the signs well. She'd observed it in her mother, the proceeding months after the accident. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Right. This was only the beginning. If he chose to do so, there was still much more to tell. To keep up the focus of the conversation, her advice should be reserved for later.Eventually, he would calm down and let his hands fall back to his sides. Mishiro reached out her hand to lightly rest it on top of his. The cold iron of her gloves offered no warmth, but the intent behind her gesture surely did. She averted her gaze from his and stared into the campfire. Her armored hand remained where it was. Her next few words weren't intended to be an order, but a request."Sorry. Please continue."
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She leisurely sipped from her black coffee, until she realized he wasn't about to say anymore. She gave an unsatisfied frown. It was vague. Really vague. He hadn't answered her question at all. Had the situation been different, she would have given him a lecture on proper verbal communication or pointed it out at least. But, seeing him look at her with that expression and speak in that voice, she couldn't bring herself to. Mishiro placed her mug down on the grass beside her and pulled her legs close to her chest. What would she do if it was Roman in front of her? First of all, she would give him a hug. But that didn't seem very appropriate when it came to Pinball. She looked at him, then at the sword he had directed his glance to earlier. He wasn't a spear-wielder, most probably spent the night alone, but had a sword with him out in the open like he wielded it... Too many questions. Too many things had happened in the span of a few months. Where was she supposed to start?One thing at a time.The best way to solve a problem was to face it head on and admit that it exists. He already knew that what he did was wrong. That was a good first step. But Mishiro wasn't sure if he wanted to solve it or go down the same road he did last time. She'd experienced it firsthand, and... it was best not to repeat it. The image of a red-haired girl with freckles and a bright smile briefly flashed in her mind. She glanced at the sword. So all he had to do was to say it out loud. "What exactly did you do?" She rested her chin on her legs and steadily looked back at him. "I'm here, Pin. It's me. I'll listen to anything you have to say."
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Mishiro did not understand this kid. When she first saw him, he was proudly doing knife tricks on a lifted platform before a crowd. When she talked to him and the red-haired girl, he seemed to have stage jitters and stammered through his sentences. When she met him again, he stuttered a lot less but was still awkward. But now that she had offered him a seat, he was... like a completely different personality? With all her knowledge in vocabulary, she couldn't find the right word for it in her mind. Perhaps inviting him to sit with her was all it took for him to open up. Was that possible? It was making her dizzy. People were supposed to stay consistent...right? Or had the game finally screwed with his mind, too?The waiter - luckily - served her drink before he arrived. That gave her the liberty to lift the mug to her lips and effectively conceal half of her confused expression. "Hello..." Mishiro looked down at his drink curiously. She only ever ordered two things: a caramel frappe or a mug of black coffee, so she was unfamiliar with anything else. "What did you order?"
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Almost perfect? Mishiro set the sketchpad down on her lap and gave a genuine, innocent smile out of pride for her work. This was the first time she'd gotten it right on the first try, and she'd been half-asleep through 25% of it no less! Were her skills improving? She addressed Huginn, and her tone seemed less professional and serious than it was before. Exactly like how a girl her age should speak. "Then, I'll just have to finalize it. I don't want to make any mistakes, so it'll take about...another two days or so." She closed her sketch pad. Well. Thinking about it logically, maybe she'd only gotten the drawing right this time because she had a base. That drawing of the woman named Leila. The face shape and the hairstyle were similar, all she had to do was compare Muninn's physical description to Leila's and make the necessary changes. "Mm...a song? I don't really have anything in mind right now, maybe next time?"He stood and she followed him with her grey gaze. Hunting? She looked him up and down and the childish, carefree smile melted off her face, replaced by a small, concerned frown. "Right now? I don't think that's a good idea. You look tired. Maybe try to get some rest first," she said automatically. What had he been doing anyway? Farming late into the night? That was dangerous. The low visibility would leave players vulnerable to ambushes - by either mobs or...other players - unless they had <<Night Vision>>. But Mishiro didn't question him any further. He wouldn't give that sort of information to someone he only knew for a day. But...he looked so tired and kind of like, he was disturbed by something. He mentioned her favorite cafe. There's a higher chance he would for someone he knows for more than a day. Besides, he seemed like he needed a friend. Mishiro rose from her bench. "I happen to be heading in the same direction," she maintained her calm, monotonous tone. The dark-haired girl tilted her head to the side innocently. "Let's go together."
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Eggs? Oh, a traditional Western breakfast. Mishiro pulled up her inventory, scrambling to find materials she could cook - only to look up and find that he had already cracked open three eggs and was scrambling them in a skillet placed over the campfire. With one hand still holding her inventory tab open, she watched as he tilted the pan and moved the eggs to the side, adding a few strips of bacon and meat. He sprinkled a few seasonings on top, then there was a slight pause as he waited for it to cook, then manifested more materials from his inventory. Egg, milk, and flour... a cake? No, she thought as she watched him stir all the ingredients together. A pancake.Now he was cooking four different things, at the same time. Like a chef from one of those cooking shows. He was surely coordinated. Far from the lost, nervous kid she met that day. They were the same profession and Mishiro had attained the skill much earlier than he did, yet the difference in their skills was still glaringly obvious. Mishiro couldn't even craft without a recipe book. She dismissed her menus and resigned herself to watching.But it was still too quiet. She had come over to watch him doing his daily crafts once, and he at least engaged her in some conversation while he was cooking."Help yourself.""Thank you." She took one of the plates and a set of utensils for herself and carefully lifted on of the pancakes with a fork and set it down on her plate. Then she reached for the bottle of syrup, and drizzled a generous amount of it onto her pancake. With her knife, she sliced off a small portion and took her first bite. It was light, fluffy, and the syrup added to its sweetness. Mishiro looked up and somehow felt herself obligated to comment. "It's good."It didn't take her long to finish the first pancake, and she resisted the temptation of taking the other one immediately in favor of trying out the rest of the meal. Mishiro heaped a serving onto her plate, then paused to pull up her inventory. "I found some vanity crafts earlier. Do you still like drinking coffee?" A mug of brown coffee materialized in her hands and she handed it over to him. Subsequently, she scrolled down and pulled out a mug of black coffee for herself. She looked at him and her voice took on a slightly more playful tone. "Straight from Cafe Myosotis and its famous 100% friend discount. Careful, though. It's still hot."They were halfway finished with their meal when Mishiro spoke up again, directly addressing the problem in front of her. It wasn't Pinball. It was the orange cursor floating on top of his head, like a brand. "So? Tell me what happened to you. Tell me everything, from the start. I'll listen."
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"A...Starbucks?" It took her a few moments to make that connection - after all, they'd been in the game for more than three months and she hadn't visited her once-favorite coffee shop (and study area) since March of the previous year. "It's supposed to be a cafe, so I guess it's like a Starbucks. They have warm and cold beverages, and some dessert."There was a lull in the conversation. Mishiro wasn't terribly talkative and she didn't want to keep him from making his order. So she moved to the side and glanced around the cafe. Her gaze fixed on a table for two by the window. "If you're going to order, you should do it before someone arrives." She moved past him and looked over her shoulder. He still seemed a bit out of place. Or was it just his nervousness? She considered her next few sentences carefully. "I suppose you're alone today? Well, I'll be there. It's a table for two, so if you want to join..."She didn't know how to finish that sentence, so she went on her way and claimed the table.
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"Financial support from the squad?" Roman briefly took his attention away from the semi-transparent windows floating in front of him to look questioningly at Mishiro. He turned back as another window appeared, informing that his PM had sent successfully. "I was just telling Leah about that. But I can't make any promises yet. Since it involves the guild's funds, me and the other officers would have to come to an agreement first."Guild politics. Mishiro didn't have any knowledge about that nor did she need it. On paper, she was a member of the guild. Yet, due to her status as a non-combatant, she was set apart from its level-based hierarchy of sorts. Her tasks only extended as far as giving fellow guild members discounts and going on material-gathering trips with other crafters.He dismissed his menus and nudged her gently. The frontliner, Hestia, was approaching them. Mishiro stepped out from where she had been hiding behind his back and automatically straightened. "Yes. Thank you. I can guarantee that the player Pinball's criminal sketch will be finished within the week. In regards to Hidden... perhaps the description of her appearance with a cloak should do? Unless it has any special enhancements, the hood shouldn't have completely covered her entire face." She was speaking from experience. She saw Roman wearing a cloak once and she had recognized him immediately when he had turned to face her. "Or maybe the hood is just that big... That aside, am I supposed to contact you directly when it's done? I understand that frontliners are often busy with the clearing effort, so perhaps you could refer me to a colleague instead."
"I don't think there's that many of them yet," Roman cut in, unexpectedly. She stopped talking to look up at him, and so would the frontliner. "I've been in the leveling business since the start of the game, and this is the first I've heard of a police department. Well, to my knowledge, there were guilds that tried to enforce justice themselves but they were limited to the affairs of their members and none explicitly called themselves a 'police department.' Couple that with the fact that an active frontliner is down here in Floor 1 recruiting members herself..."
Mishiro stared at him, trying to process his logic. The sudden appearance of a 'police department.' Hestia the frontliner recruiting from lower-leveled players herself. The two Wanted players, both frontliners. Not something that was in the works for a long time...more like, a reaction. A reaction to-- "Ah, nevermind." He turned to Hestia. "Miss Hestia, right? I'm Claude. Tier 3 player, specialized in support and tracking. If the police department is still in need of additional players, I can help."[ooc: Mishiro accepts Hestia's friend request. Claude/Roman is my NPC player. He'll be sticking around for a long time and I don't have any preferences as to what happens, so it's up to Hestia if he'll be included.] -
Mishiro followed him to the campfire. She looked around and took in her surroundings. Open clearing, burnt-out campfire, the large indent in the grass... This must be where he spent the night. But out in the open and with an orange cursor no less? She stared at his back with a concerned frown.The branches overhead rustled as a soft breeze sighed through the clearing, bringing with it the scent of morning dew. "Cold morning," she commented, pulling Roman's coat tighter over her form. It was the closest she would get to complaining. She took her seat across him and pulled her legs close to her chest. "Not yet."She buttoned up the coat and shivered. She watched him prepare the pit for a campfire then summoned her menus with a flick of an armored finger. She scrolled through the many items in her shared inventory until she found what she was looking for. "I have a lighter," Mishiro offered, said item materializing in her palm. She stood and wandered about the clearing, busying herself with gathering dried branches and twigs.It was too quiet.She returned to the pit and arranged half of the branches and twigs she had gathered underneath the logs. Then she held the lighter at arm's length and lit a fire. She fanned the flames and withdrew her hand, carefully adding the rest of the branches. The fire she had lit up was small. But at least it hadn't died yet. Not bad for a first try. Mishiro inched closer to the fire's warmth then looked at Pinball expectantly. "I do have some food with me, but I don't want to waste the buffs. So, what are we making?"
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The wooden door swung open behind her and Mishiro instinctively looked over her shoulder. Standing there by the doorway with his hand half-extended to pet the cute familiar, was the performer from a few days ago. He was alone and seemed quite unsure of himself as he stuck his hand back into his pocket and looked around. Their gazes met and she saw his blue eyes move to look at various parts of the room, then flick back at her. So it wasn't just because he'd just finished his performance. He was naturally an anxious person."Good afternoon," she greeted, still looking over her shoulder. "Is this your first time here? You can pet the familiar if you want to. It's friendly.""Is that all, ma'am?" asked the NPC from behind the counter.Mishiro nodded and took her table number. She approached the nervous-looking boy curiously. In any other situation, she would have ended the conversation right after what she said earlier, but he seemed a bit...lost. She could still recall feeling the same way the first time Roman left her to do errands for the squad alone. "Where's your companion from the other day?"
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Mishiro walked down the streets of Florenthia. Her steps were purposeful and wide, and she looked forward, steely grey gaze locked in the general direction of her destination. Players along her path stepped out of the way before they realized what they were doing. She was headed straight for a certain shop in the settlement, and nothing was stopping her.Save for one small, purple-haired girl. "Hey, wait!" Her friend stood in front of her, blocking the way. Mishiro stepped to the right and the girl followed suit. It was almost cute - would have been cute if the scenario was completely different. "Okay, so I told you his name was Tatsumi. Or something like that. And that he can track down players. But what are you gonna do about the whole trading thing? You know, he can track you down once you trade with him, right?" The small girl crossed her arms and smirked. "No, don't talk. I already know what you're going to say. 'It doesn't matter if I endanger myself, I'd do anything to find the one I--'""I'd do the same for you."The girl's cheeks reddened, and she waved a gloved hand in front of her face, as if fanning herself, with a laugh. "My, my. I had no idea Shiro-chan--""And it doesn't matter if someone can track me. I don't have any enemies." Mishiro finished. She moved forward and patted the girl's shoulder. Then there was a sharp, resounding ding!Both girls looked at each other. They simultaneously pulled up their menus. The small girl came up with a blank. Mishiro opened a PM. Directly south of Florenthia. Follow the stream. Her heart skipped a beat. "Where's the stream?""The what?""He told me to go south of Florenthia and follow the stream," she explained quickly. "I don't know this town well, so where is it?""He must be talking about the river that extends past the safe zone. Just go back where you came from and make a left when you reach a smithy."Mishiro turned to leave. Then she paused."Arabelle, wasn't he your friend too? Maybe you should come along.""Like. You. Said. I'm a terrible friend." The purple-haired girl made a dismissive gesture with her hands. "Don't worry about me, Shiro-chan! Let's go on a date tomorrow instead! Then you could give me updates. Like if you're still single...""I'll tell him you said ''hi.'"...She ran half the way and slowed down to a walk in the next. Mishiro came to a stop on the other side of the trickling stream. Sunlight glinted off her dark hair, swept to one side and arranged in a slightly messy French braid, and the interlocking plates of iron which made up her armor clinked as she shifted her position and tucked her hands into the pockets of Roman's white coat, draped over her shoulders. She was fully armed, not because she was expecting to fight him, but because it was customary for her to arm herself before leaving a safe zone.Then she stepped forward and skipped over the stream, landing directly in front of her old friend. "Good morning," she greeted casually, as if the present situation was no less different from the times they had met and talked before. Mishiro smiled warmly. "It's been a few months. How are you?"
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Mishiro blinked at him, then looked over his shoulder to see the old brick road that led straight back to the center of the town where the teleport pad was located. "Mm. I must still be half-asleep," she mumbled absent-mindedly to herself as a way of setting aside her clumsy mistake. It was half-true. Her movements seem to be a bit sluggish today. "You're already here, so I'm fine if we do this now."She looked at him and took note of the bags under his eyes and his generally disheveled appearance. He looked tired. So tired that his emotions were showing on his face. But this early in the morning? He must have been doing something late into the night. "Ah, are you okay though? Huginn, maybe you should sit." Mishiro stepped to the side and gestured quietly at the bench. Once he was seated, she would take her seat beside him and hold up her sketch pad, displaying her first rough sketch of his sister. "So how is it? Is there anything I need to change?"
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"That username--""--into my GODDAMN FAMILY!""--hey, didn't we--""--helping you hunt Pinball. I've made up my--""--Oh, player killers.""--know him?"Too many people. Too many voices. Why did they all have to speak so loud? Mishiro looked around, saw the player with the blue hood clenching his hands into fists, the firm, resolved expression on the sword-wielder's face, the player with the red dress unbothered by the two's words, and the leader - the chief of the Aincrad Police Department - nodding in acknowledgment. Take down, hunt, dangerous killer. Why were they all talking as if they were going to kill him? She knew it was only an arrest warrant - but with the anger the hooded player had shown, the resigned determination in the brunette's words, and her friend, a person she had also shared warm, precious moments with, being labeled as dangerous - she knew there was a possibility. Someone could die from this.People were often scared of things they didn't understand. For them, it was the orange player. For Mishiro, it was this crowd and their rash judgment of her friend."I'm so sorry. Shiro, we should go." Roman rested his hand on her shoulder. He must have sensed her discomfort. She looked up at him, her mouth opening, trying to form words but her ability to communicate in this situation failed her and nothing came out. Still, he nodded as if he understood her. "Let's just talk about this later, okay? Do you want to head back?"What she was just about to say in response was interrupted by the police chief moving to the center of the circle and saying her piece. Mishiro looked away from Roman to fix her gaze on the woman. Hestia. One of the strongest frontliners in Aincrad, with her jack-of-all-trades-and-master-of-none build. The players, even the loudest ones, fell into a hush as she spoke. Clearly, this woman had power. And she knew how to use it. When she finished speaking, she caught her breath and waited for a response from the crowd. For a few seconds, the players absorbed the contents of her speech and remained silent.Mishiro didn't want the police department hunting her friend down. Neither did she know the other criminal, Hidden's, reasons for what they did. They may have had a reason, just like her friend did. But she understood how dangerous it could be if players mistook one person for a criminal and killed them instead. Or if one player, ignorant of their exact appearance, approached one of the criminals. She didn't want to doubt her friend. But at the same time, if you would look at things from a logical standpoint, when you flip that switch once, it would be easier to do it again.She patted Roman's hand, still on her shoulder, and strengthened her resolve. She stepped forward, looking directly at Hestia. "Good evening. My player name is Mishiro. I'm not at a high enough level to...help hunt the wanted players down, but I think I can help." Mishiro paused to collect herself, and she looked briefly back at Roman - who gave her a thumbs-up - before continuing. "I...think having only a description of the criminals in the wanted posters is problematic. You gave us a description of the outfit they were last sighted wearing - which is already inadequate at the very least - but how do you think players would interpret that description? People have different visualizations of, say, leather armor or maybe black cloaks, and I think the best way to resolve that and make sure everyone is on the same page is through providing them with an image they can look at instead of a written description that they have to interpret themselves. With that said, I'd be willing to offer my services if anyone hasn't yet. I've...seen the player Pinball's face already and I can draw Hidden if you give me a more detailed description of them. Um..." She stepped back, away from the center of the circle with her cheeks slightly flushed. That was the longest she'd talked in a long, long time. "Also, it's free of charge. I don't need payment. I just want to help make Aincrad a safer place. That's all."
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December 2, 2025"Shiro, look." She felt him tug on the hand that had been clinging to his arm, and she looked, her gaze following the direction he had pointed out to her. A group of four players - larger than the average group - all gathered around the quest bulletin board. From the gaps between the players, Mishiro could just make out the object of their attention. Yellowish paper. Large capital letters spelling out the word 'WANTED' printed on top. There were two of them. Her heart dropped but she let Roman gently pull her along. "Sorry, can we check it out? This is the first time I've seen Wanted posters in the quest bulletin, so it has to be serious."She followed after him quietly. She recalled the orange player - her friend - whom she'd met on the river just the other day. His cursor, his status as a frontliner, and then the Wanted posters? It couldn't be a coincidence. The newly-formed police department of Aincrad was now officially hunting him down. "Aniki?" she called out to her companion. He looked over his shoulder. "Nothing.""Sorry, sorry. Did I kill the mood?" He turned and patted her head. Mishiro looked up at him, her vision slightly obscured by her now messed-up hair falling over her eyes. Those gentle green eyes. Mishiro looked down, her cheeks slightly flushed. He didn't know what she was hiding. "I know we went out to have fun, but this'll just take a few moments, okay? Someone needs to inform the squad." He took his hand off her head and they continued to walk. She was all the more dreading his reaction. Roman knew Pinball, too. "Ah, I know! I'll buy you your favorite ice cream flavor later..."Mishiro couldn't hold back her smile.They neared the bulletin board and Mishiro pushed gently past a blue-haired girl with a large shield. Hidden. Pinball. The former needed to be jailed, the latter needed for questioning. Signed, Aincrad Police Department.She hardly heard the hooded player's outburst, nor Roman's question.[ooc: takes place after this thread. anyone is free to talk to either mishiro or roman. also, @Jun, stryder is not pinball. unless he's misunderstanding things, it's best to edit your post before anyone responds to it]
[PP-F2] Lost and Found
in Beginner Floors
Posted