Oscar

Oscar's hands moved to his hips, his chest thrust out with pride. "Any composition I want, Night." He assumed she was asking about the ingredients or flavor. It was the same answer either way. He was a Grandmaster Cook. He could turn nuts and bolts and bark into the finest meal you'd ever eat. How else was he able to make diamonds and metal digestible? Oscar waved to the new person with a bright smile. Things had certainly become more lively than he was accustomed to. He truly enjoyed the company of his compatriots on the Frontlines, but one could only deal with the same people for so long bef

Oscar was glad that everyone he had called had actually shown up. He was rather certain that this boss wouldn't pose much of a problem, but he also didn't want to exert all of that effort to turn up nothing. As everyone arrived and set about consuming their feasts, Oscar stepped up in front of the group. It was a dangerous place to feast - outside the city. Roaming mobs could set upon them at any moment. Of course, that would certainly end up badly for them. Though there were some new faces, there were familiar ones too. Oscar felt confident that between himself, NIGHT, and Cordelia, they coul

Comcast had not yet failed him as it had so many times. Figures, the first time that he's not tanking that his provider wouldn't lag him out. There was something liberating about being a DPS. Less responsibility meant that he could, for better or worse, let his chaos shine through. Of course, he would need to hit the thing. It was his first time really fighting anything without Absolute Accuracy carrying him to victory and basically allowing him to operate on autopilot. So he hit that Charge button and took off like a bat out of Hell, ready to carve into the bear's fetid flesh. Only to im

“I can’t believe the game let me make this,” Oscar said. It had all begun with him hijacking an airship on Floor 24. From there, his own chaotic creativity took over. Everyone seemed so depressed. Ice cream helped with that. A strange amalgamation of ice cream and confections prowled the Floor. Hull replaced with a waffle cone. Engines that ran on Rocky Road. Bullets replaced with sprinkles, missiles with chocolate-dipped ice cream cones. It was a beautiful sight. Oscar took some small satisfaction in his mobile base. It was always a good pastime to menace the very real and super ser

The place smelled like death. Oscar stepped into the fetid arena with a look of sheer disdain upon his face. It was one thing to hold ten thousand people hostage with ticking time bombs on their heads. It was quite another to assault their senses with the smell of decay. “Insult to injury, Kayaba,” Oscar murmured as he joined the ever-growing throng of people. Despite the gut-churning stench of the arena, Oscar kept a deadpan expression. Unusually so, in fact. The type of blank expression one might keep when they’re specifically trying not to expel the contents of their stomach. A brave f

Accepted item, shard sent.. Dents.

"Well you got me there, Mina," Oscar said with a laugh. In truth, it only benefited Oscar and his craft to absorb as much knowledge as possible. Even if it might have been something so provincial as cooking classes. But his Magnum Opus still called to him. It might have been precisely because of that that he was able to set his pride aside for the sake of his current, ultimate goal. But still, he didn't want to spoil the surprise. That was half the fun, after all. Confirming to all of the Players that bosses were not threats, they were food. It would do wonders to bolster morale. Still, being

raid crafts 10/20/24

"Who the Hell you saying needs cooking classes?" Oscar was upset. Offended. Fundamentally insulted. His visage had twisted into some strange expression, not unlike one would make when they realized they had stepped into something foul. He thrust his hands into his pockets, stepping forward to take hold of one of a quartet of brilliantly-glowing crystals left in the enemy's wake. As it discorporated and added itself to Oscar's inventory, his expression morphed again. A wide grin stretched over his features as he turned to the face his companions. "'Cause I know you ain't talkin' to m

It was always such a delight to watch Cordelia work. Poetry in motion - movements flowing like water with the speed and brilliance of lightning upon a night sky’s canvas. Had Oscar blinked, he would have missed the maneuver. What a horrible tragedy that would have been. Her attack was punctuated by flashes of white, crackling holy energy following the arc of her blade as she carved through the multitudes. The way the light lingered, an arc of radiance wreathing her body. She was the picture of grace even as she laid waste to the enemy. Her quip earned a chuckle from the man. Calmed, or pe

Odds and ends and bits and bobs. Certainly there might be something interesting or amusing within this assortment of esoteric equipments. Oscar had never been one to fuss with Trinkets. But he was doing this new thing where he tried new things. Things were, at his level, becoming incredibly boring. Variety was the spice of life and Oscar was, in fact, a chef. A cook, if you will. Rambling aside, Oscar wanted something fun. Something interesting. Something, specifically that would make him immune to status effects because he was all about that breaking the game nonsense. And who else would he a

Oscar found it frustrating that their moment of pure bliss was interrupted by the NPCs. He didn’t consider the fact that he had been the one to make a choice to pursue it while in the middle of a Quest. No, the quest needed to bend to him and not the other way around. How could one be expected to experience the sheer majesty of two people’s souls collided together only to have to lower themselves to deal with something as provincial as this entire scenario. The temptation was to say to Hell with it all. To take Cord by the hand and be done with the irrelevancies. Because this was that. Irrelev

For the entire duration of this fight, Oscar had not saw fit to draw his blade. The battle was well in hand. The deep-set eyes of the Ancient had not wavered from the targets of its ire, even as Oscar's companions unleashed Hell upon it. Hand still in his pockets, posture still entirely relaxed, Oscar gazed back into the creature's glowing orbs. The two remained motionless for a while, the seconds ticking by in their silent stand-off. The wizened creature's tactics were as they always were, clearly. Slow, resolute. Like the ever-winding roots that split even stone asunder. Why would it deviate

10-6 Crafts 24 Mats to Banker Re-evaluating Gungnir's Shard, 100k Col to Banker

10-6 <<Gungnir's Shard - Crafter's Respite>> Used

It came to him in a dream. A feast of legendary quality and proportions. An event where the meat was plentiful and the drink flowed freely. A festival of sorts, friends summoned from all over merely for the simple enjoyment of a shared meal. He awoke with a start, gripped with a sudden realization. He was a Grandmaster Cook. What, exactly, was stopping him from cooking bosses? He had the skills. He had the power. And he had people whom he could summon for his newfound goal. Without even taking a moment to think it through, a flurry of messages was sent out. To @Freydand to @NIGHT

“No more secrets,” Oscar agreed. The man found it funny how he was so easily able to commit to other things. It simply came so naturally to throw himself - his entire self - into the thick of things. He made no half measures. Except when it came to her. And it was tragic. Perhaps it was fear of the unknown or of his own happiness that held him back. But it did hold him back. It was an untenable notion. His actions needed to follow his words. They needed to telegraph his feelings. Oscar had never felt so profoundly about anyone. It was something he said to her and to himself time and time again

At his core, Oscar wasn’t a man that liked to be kept waiting. There was always so much to do and so few hours to do it in. So much so, that Oscar had settled into a routine that ensured that he managed to get it all done. His mornings had always started the same, bled into his midday in the same manner, and finally ended as they always did. Everything was meticulously scheduled and planned down to the minute. Though one wouldn’t peg him for such a conscientious person at first glance. He was not wont to take much of anything seriously. Fortunately, this fell firmly within his free time. Usual

After what felt like an eternity, Oscar returned to Jackpot's shop to accept his fusion components. He mused to himself how sometimes things seemed to be done instantaneously but then sometimes they seemed to drag on weeks. Almost as if there was an unseen puppetmaster tugging the strings. A puppetmaster with limited availablity, not often willing or able to engage with his obligations. It seemed ludicrous to imagine such a thing. That his actions were not his own. But he figured that if such an entity did exist, they were probably bald. Components accepted

Transferring 1 Demonic Shard and 2 Gleaming Scales to @Jomei

Cordelia’s reaction was as over-the-top as it was adorable. He wondered whether she was flustered so because of Oscar’s poor attempt at flirting or because it sailed over her head initially. Some combination of both, he imagined. Still, Oscar didn’t want to laugh at her plight. But despite what he wanted to do, the low chuckle escaped him anyway. He decided not to give her time to react to it. Without a word, he lowered himself down to lay at her side. She could have her moment of mortification - their resources were not quite restored after all. But he wouldn’t have her go it alone. Osca

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Their light-hearted banter made one forget that they were in the midst of a very chaotic situation. Other Players had a tendency to read into the NPCs. Engage with them as if they were real people. Oscar, on the other hand, saw them for what they actually were. A balm for the painful reality they were stuck in. Created by some artificial intelligence to keep the Players from completely losing their minds. They were a balm that Oscar neither needed nor wanted. To him, they were set dressing. At best, something to interact with as little as possible to get to his end goal. Cordelia, however