Oscar

Oscar sat down upon a what used to be the front stoop of a house to think. He needed to gather his thoughts. They were too splintered, fractals that continued to split apart infinitely. Each new experience upon the Floor - every new horror - splitting further. Winding like roots from his mind, choking and blocking and denying light to the rational parts of his brain. Oscar had not remembered a time where it had been so difficult to simply formulate a thought. But here he was, trying to take stock of the situation. But every time he sought to order it, everything slipped through his grasp. It w

Oscar took a steadying breath. The stars in his vision were worse than the last time. It took a moment of conscious effort to will them away. Whatever was going on, he was certain it had something to do with the water. Not the rain. But the ocean and the saltwater streams that ran through the town like veins. There was something there. Something that should not be. Oscar had never, not once, been wound in by any sort of illusion. Wait. That wasn't entirely true. He had only just been afflicted by Callisto. Halls of Madness had put him under its spell. Was that meant to be a warning?

He was being stupid. What harm could some digital water do? So long as it wasn't deep enough that he couldn't touch the bottom, he'd be quite alright. Certainly there was no death plane in this small stream? He crossed to the other side of the bridge, kneeling down at the bank. He reached toward the water, hands together so as to scoop some of the liquid and bring it to his lips. His fingertips had almost touched the surface when roiling pain spiked through his head. Like a white-hot knife, hit assailed him. He reeled backward, kicking away from the stream as he clutched his head. Distance, it

His feet carried him back towards the town. A Labyrinth would not be buried under the beach. He realized that the further he got away from those black waters, the less those *thoughts* intruded upon him. It was as if the waves themselves sang a silent dirge. One that pushed those too near closer to the precipice of madness. He came across a bridge. A high-arched, wooden thing that had somehow survived the ruination that had visited the town. As his feet stepped upon the wooden boards, he peered over the edge into the water. He found himself gripped by a sudden impulse to flee. And another impu

It only served to highlight how wrong this place felt. As Oscar made that connection, the understanding washed over him. An oppressive, crushing wave of understanding. He was convinced that perhaps this was a place that shouldn't be. Clarity and focus had forced him to pay close attention to it all. To take in things that he might have otherwise missed or ignored. Irrelevancies that he would simply naturally filter out had now had a light shone upon them. Placed on display for all the world to see. Or, at the very least, for Oscar to see. He continued walking pushing through that ominous haze

And that was a first. A headache. Oscar had grown accustomed to not needing to deal with maladies of the flesh. No aching limbs or sore backs. A mercy that Cardinal afforded them. They didn't get fatigued. Their bodies didn't ache. And they most certainly didn't get headaches. He realized then that the mast falling upon his head seemed to have overrode any pain inhibitors Cardinal had in place. He remembered as well that during his fight with the Mimic, the blows he'd sustained had actually hurt. And maybe it was his lack of familiarity with Scouting. Maybe this was simply par for the course.

"Owww," he said as he rubbed the top of his head. His temper flared, as it does when you stub your toe accidentally. Just a moment of blind, undirected rage. The desire to want to hit something. Break something. One that subsided as the throbbing mellowed out. White-hot to red-hot and back to cool. He took a ragged breath and surveyed his surroundings once more. Still depressing. Still rainy. Though he would count his blessings that the rains still fell unending. The cool droplets upon his scalp helped to soothe the hurt and dull the throbbing ache. He fought back the wave of nausea that alway

Not glitched. It didn't strike him the same as the spiders with pockets or Sundered Spire. It didn't seem bugged. Everything about the Floor seemed like it had been made intentionally by the System. But the departure from the norm was a giveaway. The lack of some measure of safety as the Frontliners pressed on was glaring. It was almost safer, in his opinion, to simply push through the Floor. To not give it a moment's purchase in your mind. To leave it dead and buried and forgotten. A meaningless footnote in their long struggle. Was this how it was to be as they began to put the first third of

One could say that of course, with there being one hundred floors, that the odd handful or two would not follow the same conventions as the others. But near as he could tell, from the moment they set foot in the floor, there was no Sanctuary. No Safe Zone. His comrades had been immediately beset by mobs as soon as they began their exploration. And it was odd. It wasn't something that, at least as far as he could remember, they had ever had to deal with. One could not say that Cardinal wasn't fair. The opposite was true. Cardinal was fair and lethal in equal measure. It was a massive departure

Oscar's next destination was the ocean. It seemed odd to think that he would find an entire Labyrinth under the beach but this entire floor was odd. Flotsam and ruined planks littered the sands. The ebb and flow of the waves brought ever more debris ashore. In the distance, standing like a monolith against the pitch black skyline was a lighthouse. He knew it to be so because every time a bolt of lightning split across the sky, the white and red tower was illuminated for just a brief moment. He had to wonder if the unlit tower was the reason for all of the wreckage. How long ago had it gone dar

"Ha!" Oscar's exclamation attracted the attention of several of the shambling horrors that seemed to be hiding around every corner. As they began to shuffle towards him, Oscar opened his menu completely unbothered by their presence. His message was sent off with a whoosh. And it was a similar, stronger whoosh as he broke off into a sprint. The turbulence generated from his sudden launch sent the shambling masses flying in all directions. As he ran, messages flew past his vision. Pause. He skidded to a stop. "Aw, lame," Oscar said. He'd fully intended to put a pin i

Oscar had become accustomed to doing things such as this solo. Whether it be questing or grinding or whatever else he felt the need to do, he was always alone. As such, he had found many ways to entertain himself. Like twiddling his thumbs while he waited to heal up or twiddling his thumbs while he waited for his energy to restore. So much twiddling of thumbs, actually. So it was nice to actually have some connection to "civilization" while he was so far afield. Kinda made the hum-drum nonsense go by a whole hell of a lot faster. Or, if not faster, certainly more entertaining. He heard another

She had set him up and, in his opinion, he had knocked it right out of the park. He was happy though, that whatever awkwardness that came in the aftermath of their very vivid duel had all but evaporated. He almost closed his menu, but then thought better of it, quickly typing out another message that would come on the heels of the first. Perhaps the biggest mistake he made was not getting laid before he set off on this grand adventure. A decision that he was clearly suffering from making. There were no shortage of sneaky links about the floor and he could have hit someone up beforehand

Oscar was swapping his gear around when Lessa's reply came in. He quickly finished removing his ring and pulling on his <<Gloves of Caerus>> before opening the menu and reading her message. She had him there. The two of them were anything but. Friends then frenemies then wanting to jump each others bones had been a hell of a roller coaster ride. Even now, there was a certain tension. Not that Oscar would ever do anything about it. She was totally into Jomei and Oscar definitely could see why. He was into Jomei. The man was a damn sexual icon. She better hope they stuck toge

The chime came quicker than he expected it to. Oscar opened his menu again, reading the response Lessa had sent. She was a real one, private messaging people in the middle of a fight. Oscar's nostrils flared as he exhaled a silent laugh. His fingers danced over the keyboard that hovered off to the side of the window. There was a whooshing sound as he sent off his reply: Oscar looked around, noticing that one of the hands from the statue had been left on the ground. He picked it up, turning it over and examining it closely. Never knew what could give you a hint, after all.

That had been excessive. If he knew Mimics had hands like that, he would have maybe thought to bring a friend or two. Speaking of friends, while Oscar took a moment to catch his breath he decided he wanted to pester someone. At least to have something other than that damned Mimic to think about. He swiped open his menu and went down his contacts. He knew she was busy, but so was he. He hit send and drummed his fingers on his knees, waiting for her response. He was soaked and probably would have been cold if not for his <<Survival>> skill. But this was a marathon, not a spr

This was it. The final hit. Oscar wanted to find something to say. Something that would let him vent all of this pent-up anger and rage and frustration into the air. Get it out of his system so he could return his focus to the task at hand. But only one thing came to mind. And being as it was a treasure chest with arms and legs, it was shockingly appropriate. "RUN THOSE FUCKING POCKETS!" His weapon came down like an executioner's blade. The katana sunk deep into the wooden frame, starting at the top of the lid and bisecting the creature completely. It shuddered, it flickered. And the

Oscar kept up the pressure. The beating would continue until morale improved. Oscar's morale. The mimic's didn't matter. Oscar was oddly gleeful, watching the creature's health bar drain. Chunks sliced out of both the Mimic and that red bar that had just dipped into the red. It was almost cathartic. Okay. Not almost. It was definitely cathartic. Oscar had to admit, the Mimic had almost gotten the better of him. Almost. He'd taken more damage from this singular creature than he had in a handful of Boss Raids. Perhaps this creature was the Labyrinth Guardian all along. The lone enemy standing be

The Mimic had finally found its bearings. It jolted forward, only for Oscar to stamp it back into the mud. Its fist surged forward, but Oscar parried it with the flat of his blade. His riposte removed the offending limb, leaving it oozing green blood into the rain soaked ground. He struck again. And again. His weapon perforated the creature's one remaining limb, carved gashes into its wooden torso. Oscar had the advantage now. And he would keep pressing it. There was not a single creature he feared. There was not a single mob that would get the better of him. He'd made that promise a long time

Oscar pressed his advantage. He reversed his grip on his sword, driving the pommel of his weapon between the Mimic's eyes in a stunning strike. It staggered backwards, sole remaining arm flailing as it reeled from the blow. Oscar swept its feet, sending it crashing into the mud. He wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating this creature again. Any good thought, any positive impression had burned up in the fires of combat. It had established itself as a creature to be taken seriously. And if that were the case, Oscar would take it seriously. With the same laser focus and brutal efficiency th

Slowly but surely the dust began to clear. He could make out the silhouette of the brute from within the gray. It was clear that it hadn't found him yet. Just the moment Oscar had been waiting for. He dashed forward, weapon carving a wide arc through the air as he struck the beast with all the force that he could muster. Pinpoint precision and a lucky critical hit did several things. It removed the damaged limb from the mimic. The thick, meaty arm fell to the ground with a wet smack. His weapon's enhancements activated, restoring the health that he had lost. Taking a beat had been the correct

The cloud of dust billowed out around him and Oscar had a choice to make. He could rush in, try to put up some semblance of an offensive. Or he could take a second and get his bearings. He was already on the back foot. The statue falling had forced distance between them. Both were blinded. Both couldn't see the other. The best bet was to wait for the smoke to clear. Deny the Mimic the thundering momentum that it had managed to gather. Oscar didn't see a win if he just kept up the pressure. There was no pressure to keep up. It was almost embarrassing to be put into such a position by a treasure

As Oscar descended, there was little he could do to stop what was about to happen. His feet hit the earth. And the Mimic's bicep hit his throat. Blasted backwards, Oscar somersaulted over the ruins, crashing through walls and windows and another fat walrus. Eventually, his backwards momentum gassed itself out and he came to a stop halfway into the base of a statue. A robed man, staff in hand with his hands raised towards the heavens began to teeter precariously. And then it pitched forward, directly towards Oscar. He scarcely had time to blink the stars from his eyes before he had to dive to s

Oscar landed in a pile of rubble. A ruined bakery, as evidenced by the clay oven in the corner and the rain-drenched sacks of flour. He saw stars, looking up at the dark skies as he attempted to get himself back together. The Mimic, however, had different plans. He saw the creature launch high into the air, the hulking frame spoiling his wonderful view of the rainy day. Then, like a wrestler off the top rope, it headed back towards the earth. Its fist was cocked back as it descended. Oscar vaulted backwards, narrowly dodging the blow itself, but being caught in the cloud of dust and debris. He

Oscar lashed out again, targeting the same spot that he had just struck. If he couldn't make a clean cut, he would hack the son of a bitch off. Oscar preferred a certain level of elegance, but he wasn't above getting down and dirty if he had to. And he most certainly had to. Oscar had struck with a force that would leave most normal mobs and even some Quest Bosses reeling. And this thing barely showed any damage. Clearly this was a god among mimics and he wondered if he could make it a familiar. No disrespect to Leeroy and Jenkins, but this thing had theme music. Clearly superior. Dope as fuck