Oscar

Approved

Jomei didn’t know what to say, Oscar didn’t know what to expect. Seemed like they both had the same idea. But Oscar kept silent, letting Jomei piece the words together. As the ginger spoke, Oscar slowly sipped at his drink. There were a few times where he wanted to butt in, but he didn’t. It was a hard thing to be this upfront. Oscar preferred the “rip the band-aid off” approach, but sometimes it went a little sideways. He was glad this wasn’t one of those times. And he was glad that, at the end of it all, Jomei didn’t have any hard feelings. “None whatsoever,” came Oscar’s rep

Time to be on his spongebob shit. Seeing Belregor charging up his big fuck-off attack, Oscar quickly dug another hole. It worked the last time so it stood to reason that it would work now. As he dug, he looked over at the concert. It was a bit too Latin-y. Voices were a bit to male. He could see why. Lysette and her girls had been completely upstaged by some lemonade mother fucker. A shame, but everything seemed to be going to hell in a hand basket anyway. He quickly finished his hole, rolling into the wet sand and packing it around him. And then he saw someone landed a Freeze on Belregor

Oscar saw the door open before he heard it. Or rather, he saw the bright light that surged into the building upon his guest’s ingress. He didn’t like the look, light behind shed on his den of depravity. He made a mental note to add a foyer or something. Double doors. No one liked the light shone upon their darkness, after all. He swiveled his head, greeting Jomei with a smile. He’d showed up quicker than Oscar had expected. Not good, really. He’d barely had the time to think of what he was going to say. Direct approach then. “I’ve run out of things to spend money on,” Oscar admitted

Construction. It seemed like that was all he did nowadays. Col flowed through his hands like water through a sieve. No matter how much he earned, he never seemed to have much in the way of liquid cash. It was okay though. It was all for a good cause. People needed a place to unwind. More than that, they needed a place to express their desire. It was easy to forget here. Between the ones and the zeros, passion was a rare indulgence. For most, of course. Oscar didn’t struggle expressing his passions. For good or bad, he wore them on his sleeve. Declared his intentions proudly - wh

So that was it. The Orange Players. He could understand why she'd be afraid of them. Truth be told, he was rather desensitized to the whole cursor color thing. It didn't really register as a factor until Alinta visibly jumped and dashed behind him. "Why the fuck are there so many orange people here?" "They're people too," Oscar said. The irony wasn't lost on him, even if Alinta didn't have that particular context. "They haven't drawn their weapons. Be kinda stupid to do so with half the Frontlines milling about. And besides, they're just having fun. I don't really feel like people ar

@Mari to the rescue. Cool, cool. Oscar didn’t want things to melt down, so he appreciated the intervention. It was nice, really, to see such an eclectic mix of Player cursors. Greens and Oranges mixed about as well as oil and water. So of course there would be big feelings in play. Even still. “Oh, I’ve met @Ceres. I get it. Proportionate responses though. Call it a difference of opinion, but maybe we don’t sling our drinks all willy-nilly?” Oscar’s eyes shifted over to Corvo, then back to Mari. His words weren’t those of chastisement, neither were they particularly hostile. Disappointed?

Lag spike. Of course. It always happened in the middle of the boss raid. Flickers of static across his vision, frozen in place. It would be the death of him one of these days. But that wouldn't be today. Quickly recovering from the intermission, he flung his sword at Belregor once more. And once more he found it careening off of that black barrier in a shower of sparks and flying back in his direction. At least, it didn't make a unicorn horn this time. His blade sank into his leg. With a soft grunt, Oscar wrenched the blade free. When was this fight going to be over? It seemed as if it was las

"Well don't you look dapper?" As if he stepped straight from the aether, Oscar appeared at Night's side. He looked her up and down, a small grin of satisfaction in his face. Truth be told, he could barely contain his excitement. His experiments with what Cardinal did or didn't allow had borne much fruit. The man loomed over her, trying his best not to sway to and fro as they waited at the dock. His pet project had not yet arrived. Final tests and all that. The sun was setting on the horizon, shadows lengthened as the skyport was awash in the deepest orange. He looked around, scanning the

Oscar was a simple man. Was it too much to ask to cook a building-sized crab and throw a party for his friends without some child throwing a tantrum? Even over the clamor, Corvo's voice was clear as day. Oscar's head pivoted in the man's direction just in time to watch the blonde throw his drink into Ceres' face. There were only a few reasons to make a move such as that and Oscar couldn't see any shot pets anywhere on the beach. He let out a heavy sigh. There was always someone who wanted to be the center of attention. That honor belonged to the crab, frankly. But if Corvo wante

Oscar was happy to escort Bistro and Night down to the beach. The latter was, of course, rattled. Most people were when Oscar suddenly ragdolled them and launched himself into the blue. But the dress code must be enforced. No black tracksuits at his party. "Thanks for coming, you guys," Oscar said as they leisurely strolled down the beaten path. "I've got a big surprise for everyone when we get back." And he did. He was incredibly excited about it. Oscar could have thrown a party like this at any time. But he didn’t simply because of the fact that he wanted it to be special. Memorabl

Well this wasn't good. It wasn't Oscar's first run-in with a big fuck-off Area of Effect attack. Only issue was, he didn't really know how or where to dodge. Everything was inky blackness and he didn't really know right from left. But he did know up from down. And that was enough. Because no matter how much the boss tried to confound his senses with illusion or trickery, he always knew where his feet were planted. In the sand, in this case. It conjured limited memories of the beach. Oscar dropped low, clawing away at the grains. It was an interesting way to do things. Made even more interestin

"Well you know how I am," Oscar said to Mari. "No half measures, right?" He ended his question with a wink as Warren approached. He greeted the man with a simple fist bump, nodding appreciatively at the man's efforts. An ice chest of beverages was a worthy thing to sacrifice his taco wagon for. He also picked up on Warren's silent question, deciding to address the elephant in the room. "Today's a truce day. Your status isn't an issue. I imagine you won't be the only Orange Player here. I thought your man was going to show up, for starters." Oscar felt a soft touch on his back. An invisibl

His wallet continues bleeding. A party. And now a new project since the dust has settled. Since his focus shifted from Raiding to making sure that the people trapped within the game were okay. It was only a brief hiatus. There were those who would take up his mantle no problem. But the professional within him realized that his singular focus did little good. At least, comparatively speaking. He could forge ahead and take on floor after floor after floor. But it did nothing for the people who could not or would not. Those too weak or too frightened. And he held none of it against them.