Oscar

"Well the operative term in 'fuckbuddy' is buddy," Oscar said with a grin. He didn't mind the closeness or the sudden affection, though he wouldn't deny the presence of that sting in his chest from the rejection. But that was part and parcel for the risk he took. He would get over it. Much faster if he actually saw Lessa and Jomei stopping with their nonsense and just being together. It felt cheap to call Lessa a mere ally. She was - and always had been - his friend. From the Sand Shark to the glacier, she had been there every step of the way. Doing what she did best. Inspiring. Being that immovable stunner that inspired everyone. She was in everyone's corner, but somehow he felt that she was more in his than he'd ever really given her credit for.

It was his turn to bark laughter as she made her promise. Nudging her with his arm, the Beast merely shook his head and gave her a curt nod. "That's all I ask."

They started walking. Their joined arms and close posture might have given someone the wrong impression. But, of course, their duel might have done the same thing. And there was a certain point - when you're simply so fucking familiar with someone - that affectionate gestures didn't have quite the same meaning. The mutual understanding they'd reached and the deep, almost-crushing weight of the friendship that the two of them suddenly gave proper contemplation simply gave it all a different connotation. Their relationship wasn't an epic romance or a protracted, days-long romp in the sheets. It was simply existence. Two people falling into each other's orbit and colliding. They'd become something altogether new, but familiar all the same.

"You know," Oscar said after a moment or two of aimless wandering. "You worry too much. Look at us, for instance. We went from friends to guildmates to frenemies then back to friends." Oscar's head swayed back and forth to punctuate each change in status. "Almost fuckbuddies and then this. And this, I think, is in many ways better than just being fuckbuddies. I've got plenty of those. Friends who just get me are few and far between," Oscar continued. He realized he was rambling, so he turned in her direction to meet her gaze. "And you and I, close as we are, don't have nearly the chemistry that you and Jomei have. I shot my shot and we wound up in a stronger place. I'm absolutely confident that it will be a much better ending for you and him."

To @Ariel - The Crowned Lion

Jukusu + Sakana - T4 Demonic Feast | ACC II, Protein II | ID: 247994

12 minutes ago, Wulfrin said:

Fusions

T4 Heavy Armor
Uncommon [247969] + Uncommon [247970] + Rare [247971] = Perfect [247989]

T3 Heavy Armor
Rare [247973] + Rare [247975] = Perfect [247990]

* * *

New Items

Armour of the northern ice-dragon | T4 Perfect Heavy Armor | ID 247989 | MIT 3
Desc. An elegant suit of plate armor made from the silver scales of a northern dragon and the skillful craftsmanship of Sentinel Armaments

Axe of the northern ice-dragon | T4 Perfect Two Handed Axe | ID 247979 | DMG 3
Desc. An axe built to match the armor from the same set name. Its blade is a mixture of well crafted metalwork and bones from the fallen dragon.

Vanguard's Bastard Sword | T3 Perfect Straight Sword | ID 247982 | Bleed 2 | Paralyze
Desc. A simple bastard sword designed to get the job done.

Comfy Socks | T3 Perfect Heavy Armor | ID 247990 | MIT 3
Desc. Surprisingly comfortable considering they are made of small gauge steel wire. One would say they are made of the softest steel wool.

Approved

Crafting on 7/16/25

used 5 materials, 1 shard

"He's hot as fuck," Oscar cut in. "There's very few guys I'd clown with in this god-forsaken game, but damn it I would play the xylophone on the man's abs."

He held his tongue after that. It was important that she talk this out. Sometimes, putting it all into words - or the best string of words you could manage, because she was failing tremendously - help work through a problem. But she found her stride. It was no real secret to him that Lessa had struggled in her romantic life. Oscar had been lucky to find someone that he resonated with so quickly. But it had been an uphill battle for her. And he couldn't really fault her hesitation. Even if the solution was simple, it wasn't the type of thing that one could easily pull the trigger on. So, after she finished, Oscar let the silence hang for a moment. He needed time to think on a response. Because she deserved a real response. Not some canned bullshit from a friend pretending to be a therapist or, in this case, an actual therapist that was a friend.

"Okay, so first off. Hitting me with the idea of you in a hot tub with another woman? Low blow. I really hate your ass right now," Oscar said with a slight smile. "But seriously, I don't think I need to hit you with the 'oh, but love is always a risk' bullshit. You know it. But-"

He met her gaze, wanting his words to really hit home. "You do the most for everyone else but yourself. You literally put your ass on the line for them. You're not as risk-averse as you think. And I think that it would be worse if you didn't try. You know the chemistry is there. What are you gonna do when we get out of here knowing that, potentially, you met the love of your life and have no way of reaching him in the real world? That's not bitchmade, that's just stupid. I've seen those looks you two exchange. I see how you both tense and relax when he's around. If that ain't worth rolling the dice on the pain, I don't know what is."

Oscar shrugged as he mirrored her gesture, relaxing back into the fountain. "And I mean, you could always fall back on clowning with me as a backup plan. Doesn't seem like there's much of a risk there. You're covered."

"Shame you've had your fill of hot dogs, I was rather hoping we could fuck up every room in the house," Oscar said flatly. Casually, almost flippant in tone. It was a pipedream, of course. It was a big house. They'd only managed to make a mess in the foyer and hallway. At their current pace, it might take weeks. Not that he would mind. But scheduling and other obligations kept him from really sinking his teeth into that fantasy. Still, he wanted to float it. If only to make her squirm with the idea of it. She was good at that. Very good. So Oscar would not let the opportunity to provoke that particular beast pass him by. Perhaps, if one thing led to another...

Of course, the current topic was the least sensual or alluring topic he could fucking think of. Much as he would like to take his mind off of it, it was all so troubling.

"So," Oscar said after a moment. "We got one dude spitting a mad game, probably doesn't have it. And we have another guy killing people and making it look like suicides?"

Quite the wealth of information Mari had provided him. But he could sense that she wanted to say more. She was holding herself back. Was it for his benefit or her own? Still, the invitation clearly needed to be extended. If she didn't know that she was always welcome to speak freely, she would. Mari was, after all, quite receptive to his corrections.

"Something on your mind? Finish your sentence," Oscar said. His voice hit that same inflection of command that he'd used so extensively the night prior. Or at the lakeside. It wasn't intentional, of course. But standing in his kitchen with no prying eyes made his hunger pangs all the more intense. And it was so rare to find someone who knew how to satisfy. But, if it led her to abandon her trepidation and speak plainly, he would call it a win. Such behaviors could, of course, be useful outside of activities of the night.

Approved, Welcome to SAO-RPG.com

Approved, welcome to SAO-RPG.com!

The Frontlines pushed forward after Callisto. Oscar had been no exception. Motivations were night and day. It was no secret that his fellows had immersed themselves. Partaken of the proverbial Kool-Aid. A new Floor was a new opportunity to rest on their laurels. Decompress from the previous mortal struggle before engaging with the next. It was at that first moment, stepping off the platform into the pouring rain that Oscar realized the game that was afoot.

Dark storm clouds bore down upon them. Town abandoned, people replaced with horrors from dizziest nightmares. And Oscar said replaced because he could see through what it was. Motivations were night and day, so too were perspectives. Oscar refused immersion. Both feet remained planted in reality. Cardinal tried to convince him. Almost pleaded with him for acceptance.

It came in flashes. The dark madness of the Floor assaulted his senses.

He would blink and upon opening his eyes the illusion would shatter. A bright sunny day upon the seaside, Shamblers now that which they were meant to be. The floor was perfectly ordinary. Boring even.

But he would blink again and the illusion would return. False madness would try all that it could to worm its way into his mind.

But he refused immersion. With a curse upon his lips, Oscar would turn and leave. If he was to rest, he would do so in more favorable climes. One that did not insult him by layering illusion upon illusion, one that would not think him so stupid as to be fooled by it all.

Let them fight their horrors from the deep. When they were ready, he would return. He would do his duty. But until then -

Fuck it all.

But Cardinal was insidious. And ever-present.

Oscar could not keep himself guarded forever.

Hours, days. It didn’t matter. Cardinal was patient. Ever-present, all-knowing. It would probe Oscar’s defenses. One crack would be sufficient. Just enough space for its gnawing roots to plant themselves in his mind. The walls would give, as stone always did as the pressure grew. As the network expanded, twisting and drilling. Time did not favor him. Time was Cardinal’s friend. Oscar knew this. It was the lion’s share of his rebellion.

How long would it be before he gave in?

How long until he could no longer see the illusion?

How sweet would that acrid liquid be as it flowed down his throat? Would it taste of cherry-scented batteries as he had been accustomed to? Would he even notice the taint as it destroyed the last bastion he had left?

Why did no one see? Why did no one else share his urgency?

He was not the mad one.

Or, perhaps he was.

Oscar didn’t know when it had happened. Truly, he could not recall the events that followed his departure from the floor. The fact that he couldn’t remember even leaving in the first place was concerning. Pages were shorn from the middle of the book. He clearly remembered the flash of light and the sensation of being flung through space. But as he tried to summon up the memories of landing, they evaded him. As if they had never happened. A dark gap in the sequence book ended by walking on and then off the platform.

As he stepped back out into the rain, he looked skyward. The vista shifted still. Every blink invoking a different scene. It was difficult to remain grounded. For years, he had remained guarded. The walls were showing wear, cracks spiderwebbing across the partition that kept his mind safe. It was to be expected. He had remained “on” for far too long. Cardinal provided neither balm nor moment of succor. Merely constant spreading, drilling pressure.

Perhaps this was the day then. A half-laugh fell from his lips as his feet almost began moving on their own. He could smell the cherries. Taste the pennies. See the precipice.

Cardinal was insipid. Its damage was not done in one stroke. But it very rarely lost. It was patient. It only needed to win once.

Even Oscar’s will would falter under such conditions.

He knew not where he was marching - only that his feet were moving. Oscar thought to about-face. To rebel as he always did. But if She expected rebellion, would the true rebellion not be seeing where his path led? His march led him to H.P.’s - a run-down tavern. Not that the run-down qualifier would matter; everything was run down. This place, at least, was still standing. Only minor damage to the exterior.

Ashen hair drew his attention as he crossed the threshold. Crimson irises locked it in. 

Cardinal’s Madness would shatter as he beheld - for the most infinitesimally brief moments - a look of trepidation. Perhaps she would prefer it be obfuscated - she would need to get over it. There was little that escaped Oscar’s notice. His better nature would wind the clash. He knew her by name only. They had stood together, though tangentially and in separate groups, through at least a couple Floor Bosses. She was a comrade, whether they had spoken or not.

“You seem concerned,” Oscar said as he entered the bar proper. It was just like him to cut to the quick. He lacked the time or inclination to dance around problems. It was the most sure-fire way for it to fester. He found a seat that still had four legs, a table that was still stable. He sat, kicking his feet up. If he was going to be hounded by Cardinal’s Madness, he was damn sure going to be comfortable. “Wanna talk about it?”

No names, no ‘how are yous.’ A problem, a solution.

Whether it took remained to be seen.

► squabble up.
Cost: 10 SP
Passive
Requirements: Rank 5 Searching, All Searching Mods
Effect: User can no longer benefit from the Standard Loot Table. User can also no longer benefit from Prosperity. Instead, user receives the following from all Loot-Standard Mobs:

10000 Col, 3 Materials, 1 Unidentified Equipment (tier/type chosen by user.) 

Description: Luck and Discernment go hand in hand.

“Dangerous and bloody, huh?”

There was generally two types of people who went full bore into that sort of mystique. There were, of course, the bullshitters. It was generally done as a manipulation tactic. To intimidate some weak-willed person. Trick a woman into thinking they’re dealing with a bad boy. But they were so very rarely about it. It rarely took more than the lightest push to get them to abandon their entire persona.

But then there were the ones that really were about it.

And there was nothing to be done with those types except putting them in the ground. Oscar had to assume anyone with the cajones to say something like that to Mari, still sporting her orange crystal as she was, fell into the former category.

“I am a slave to the bit,” Oscar said. “But I am a Grandmaster Cook. Not much I can’t prepare, honestly.”

It was a soothing balm to the conversation. There was something that simply rubbed him the wrong way about the man she described. Perhaps it was because he felt comfortable enough to do it. Clearly, Oscar had failed to instill the fear of God in the PKers as well as he had thought. A personal failing, that. One that he would rectify expeditiously. It really did take most of his restraint to keep himself from running down the lead. But, he could always deal with that later. No sense ruining a good morning with better company over one dude.

The second man she described, however, did make his blood boil.

It was not new information. Hell, it was half the reason Oscar remained green. Anyone whose death had been caused in the Black Iron Dungeon was, more often than not, Oscar’s doing. He treated the place like a massive garbage disposal. Just boot the offending party in and let the overly-scaled mobs do his work for him.

Where the issue arose was the suicides. Reminded him of a story Lessa had told him about a suicide cult and its myriad victims. Even now, the effects of that man left deep scars. And if that was what was happening - if they really did have some fucked up serial killer on the loose - he would need to take action. 

Hell, maybe he’d have to get the gang back together.

“And I appreciate that,” Oscar said. “I always knew that was a possibility. Honestly, my body count is technically higher than what the Monument says. But suicides. Huh.” He took a long sip of his coffee. He gazed off into the middle distance as the gears began to turn. Finally, he placed the mug down and shrugged. “Sounds like they need to stop breathing my air.”

Approved

*yeets 4x Terra Firma Scales at @Zajcica*

It was the pounding of the bass that drew his attention. Oscar turned his head, craning his neck up to peer off into the distance. He didn't have to, mind you. The only person on the beach as tall as him was Belregor. Which was weird and he hated it. Was that... singing?

Who the -? More importantly, why the-. And also when the-.

Blue eyes flashed yellow as he activated his Searching skill. The landscape zoomed in, like a pair of invisible binoculars. He focused on the stage and the performance. And that little red-haired idiot in the corner busy flinging oil onto a pot of wood. And despite how tired he was, Oscar actually cracked a smile.

"Alright then," he said as he cocked back his arm. "Guess we have cheerleaders. Can't let em down now."

He flung his sword. Divine Rancor blazed to life, arcing with white lightning as it spun like a sawblade towards Belregor. It collided with a dark barrier of force, bolts of lightning sparking off in all directions. But what happens when you flick on a light switch?

The shadows hide.

Divine Rancor cleaved through that ward with a pulse of energy. The blowback sent Belregor staggering back a step, Divine Rancor sailing off in the opposite direction. Honestly, if Oscar had a moment to pat himself on the back, he thought it was pretty damn cool.

Until he felt that pressure rippling from the crown of his head and halfway down his shoulders. He didn't need to reach up to know what had happened. Badass stocks were in free fall. He was feeling bullish on shenanigans. After all, how else could he feel about being stabbed in the head with his own sword?

"Guys, be honest," he said sheepishly. "How bad is it?"

7 hours ago, Mari said:

SORRY I HAD ENOUGH SO IM DOING THE THING

**LATEST APPLICATION/APPROVAL** 
LINK

 

Room(s) Being Added: (Include assigned player(s) for homes)
Fishing Pond: 10,000
Ornate Fishing Pond (Upgrade) 15,000


Room(s) Being Upgraded: (Include assigned player(s))

Ornate Fishing Pond: Mari

Room(s) Being Re-Assigned: (Include newly assigned player(s) and a post link to the last time these rooms were assigned player(s))

 

House Fluff and design etc below 

  Hide contents

 

<<FROZEN COTTAGE>>
Floor 04 // Frozen Lake
PK Accessible Plot

 

 

 

<<FROZEN COTTAGE>>
Floor 04 // Frozen Lake
PK Accessible Plot

 

A quaint cottage now made of stone that sits by one of the many frozen lakes on the 4th Floor - it is about a half hour walk from Snow frost and hidden among the forest trees. Nestled in eternal snowfall means the path to the home is always obscured, and one could get lost if they do not know where they are going. 

The house sits on the edge of a large frozen lake, at night time strange blue lights dance over the frozen surface.

The house looks warm and inviting, and every so often when you pass the house you hear a strange melody, as though someone is playing the violin, but if you try to find its source you will find no one.

Behind the house, if you were to walk 10 minutes straight you'd come across a large mountainside, so steep it is impossible to climb without injuring yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

<<LIVING ROOM>>

The first room you entire upon stepping into the larger stone home. The living room sits adjacent to the dining room, with nothing but a low hanging ceiling to split the two spaces. The living room is filled with a large fireplace to the right, and two chairs that sit right by it. Ready to warm a weary traveler.There is a place to put a pot to cook food, but the hook is currently empty. The floor before the fireplace looked like it had been draped in a few different indescribable animal skins. I There is also a small mirror on the left hand wall, round without trimming, after so many years the mirror is uncovered; and looks like it has a golden sheen to it. It is kept clean. A small worn note is taped just above the mirror, a gentle reminder from  dear friend.
'It's here when you're ready.'

 

 

<<DINING ROOM>>

No longer is there a small table for one; the room which attaches itself to the  living room in an open plan space is warmed by the fire opposite. A table now large enough to fit four people sits atop a warm stone floor. Small trinkets and adornments are scattered across the table, its never clean. Always with notes, candles, glass orbs or the spoils of the day thrown carelessly onto it. Lived in. Is what one would think when they see the table. One frequently used. Signs of a warm and loving home.

 

<<MASTER BEDROOM>>

The master bedroom is covered an an assortment of lanterns that are somehow always burning, some of the lanterns have scorch marks beneath them. A large bed sits against a deep red colored wall, covered in tapestries of fine silks that hang down and around the bed. Candles flicker on the night stand. The room flickers brightly, and warmly. One one side of the bed is a sprinkle of ash around the floor. Every so often one would notice burn or scorch marks throughout the room. One one side the large ornate windows open up to overlook the frozen lake.

 

<<BASEMENT>>

The descent into the basement hits you with a distinct scent of gasoline and ash in the air. There are scorch marks in the center of the basement floor, as though someone had repeatedly lit fires upon it. To the left is a wooden table with an array of half built mechanations, glass vials, and scattered notes in two distinct sets of handwriting. Scattered around the floor of the desk is shattered glass that never seems to be swept up. Random assortments of items litter the space, as though a kleptomaniac hoarder has claimed all manner of things and thrown it down below to be forgotten about.

 

<<BATHROOM>>

The Bathroom is a stark contrast to the rest of the house, brightly lit and decorated in a modern stone style, glancing in one would assume the place cold, being made out of stone but once you step into the room there is an undeniable warmth that permeates the air, and the floor. The woodsy smells of cologne, citrus and fruits wrinkle your nose, There is a small sink with a pair of toothbrushes each in their own cups on it. In the room lies a large bathtub, enough to fit two people. A large frosted window lets light in through one side of the room, but offers privacy to those who bath within.

 

<<ORNATE FISHING POND>>

Through an unassuming door out the back of the kitchen leads into a small porch that has steps leading down into the frozen lake in which the house resides by. There are several koi fish that swim around beneath the slightly frozen surface. If one were to fish here; they'd first need to carve a hole into the ice to gain access to the spoils below.

 

 

yer

"Well tell your new guy to keep fuckin' up because I really do enjoy suffering his consequences," Oscar said brightly as he plated his own omelette.

Most men might have felt some type of way about being Plan B. Something about wanting to be the first to stake their claim or plant their flag or some other such nonsense. Oscar, on the other hand, didn't mind one bit. Especially not if it led to activities such as the ones they'd engaged in the night prior. He sank his fork into his omelette, bringing it up to his mouth as Mari spoke. Even as the topic veered off towards potentially uncomfortable territory, Oscar found that he enjoyed the conversation. Meals were not meant to be eaten alone and he had spent far too many of them in silence. With Cordelia on one of her disappearing acts, it simply left Oscar and his familiar home alone. And cute as they were, neither Leeroy nor Jenkins were eloquent conversationalists.

"Vibes, mostly," Oscar said after swallowing his first bite of food. "You'd be surprised how many Players wound up Orange by accident. Or in the heat of the moment. They wind up in a bad crowd, doing bad shit. But I really don't much think that such things warrant much more than an ass-kicking. Certainly not summary execution. I go to great lengths to ensure that each and every PKer I kill deserves it."

Gears upshifted in less than the time it took him to blink.

Oscar was forced backward, caught in Terra Firma’s jaws like a wounded doe. He felt his back collide with something hard, looked up to see an entire sand dune blown into the air. Sand struck his body in thick globs, feeling more as bullets than as sand. He finally wrenched himself free, rolling and skidding over the sand like he’d just thrown himself from a car.

It was disorienting. Everything was a blur, blues and golds flashing across his vision almost instantly. Nearly simultaneously. Somehow, he managed to get his feet under him, but the momentum didn’t stall. There was little friction to be had over the sand. And no sooner had he got his balance back did the boss burst from the sand to attempt to land another blow. He couldn’t afford to get hit. Not when the boss was in this state. It’s attacks shredded right through his armor. Letting this thing get the better of him would not only be an embarrassing way to go out, but it would also lead to significant collateral damage.

Three lives lost instead of his stupid one.

He moved his weapon around his body, blocking the attack from the creature’s claws. That was the brakes. The downward spike drove Oscar deep into the sand, causing a wave to blast out in all directions. He might have been in a crater, but at least he could plant his feet. Parry the blow. But the riposte was a pipe dream. The creature dove into the sand once more. Oscar had little sense of direction, but he took a stab in the dark that it was heading for his two low-level companions.

He took off like a rocket, speed aiding him in climbing the wall of the crater he found himself stuck in. Oscar located Terra Firma’s fin, on a collision course right for Abellio and Lysette. He poured on more speed, intercepting the boss’s path. The effort was rewarded with another blow. Another parry. The ground shook beneath their feet. The wind shear generated from their colliding offense and defense sent sand flying in all directions.

Terra Firma disengaged.

Oscar gave chase.

They matched blades, claw and katana. In their wake a cloud of sand had formed. It loomed over them like a thunderhead embracing the ground. As the sandstorm summoned by their deadly waltz passed over him, Oscar lost his vision. Was forced to operate off of instinct alone. It became less a battle of Player and NPC and more a clash of two predators. Each vying for dominance, each throwing their all into the primal urge to live to see another day.

Divine Rancor responded to its master’s quickening pulse. The blade slowly came to life, white light rippling down the blade. Within the darkness of the sandstorm, only his blade could be seen. Moving through the air like a whip with such speed that the single line seemed to multiply. Lines branching off from the origin, forking off exponentially. Each parry made the weapon shine - a burst of light that could be seen even outside of the squall. 

Lightning to the thunderous quakes.

Their battle carried them almost the entire length and breadth of the floor. The small storm that followed in their wake had morphed into a true disaster. Weather fluctuated, the ground shook. Where seconds had passed between clashes, now there was almost no time between. What had once been small intermittent shocks had transformed into one seemingly long, protracted quake. Oscar didn’t fight in the moment, but the moment before the moment. That time between heartbeats, between the second hand of the clock moved from one notch to the other.

And much like his footing, he couldn’t find traction. He could parry. But he could not riposte. There was no way to move forward. Wind was no longer the consequence of movement. There was a point where you ceased to be an object and simply became energy. An exothermic reaction. Heat. Change. Every dash generated so much heat that the sand behind him melted, cooling almost instantly into glass. Deep crystal scars over the surface of the desert.

Cardinal would not abide that. Such changes would be immediately rectified. It had learned, from Sundered Spire. It would not make the same mistake.

Millions of crystal shards joined the sandstorm as Cardinal deleted Oscar’s edits to its masterpiece.

At these speeds and with this little time to react, the battle would be decided by who made the error first.

Oscar, however, had the ability to feint. The ability to think beyond his raw programming.

He was the human element. The superior one. For all of the creature's super sonic posturing, it would be the one to lose this clash. There was no question.

Terra Firma burst from the sands, bringing its jaw down tight over Oscar’s chest. He let it. Made no effort to duck or dodge. His body would be the trap. His flesh would lock the fangs into him. His arm coiled around the beast’s neck, holding it fast. He didn’t let it go. His grip tightened. All he needed to focus on was one final blow.

He brandished Divine Rancor skyward. The weapon’s glow intensified, a veritable sun at the heart of the sandstorm. A bolt of lightning struck the blade and in the next instant Oscar switched his grip. He thrust downward, jamming his blade right between Terra Firma’s eyes. In a burst of white light, the pair were engulfed. The sun expanded outward, then burst into a supernova. Heat and the screaming light of creation detonating. Consuming.

The sandstorm melted.

Each grain became like glass.

What was once a dark oppression upon the floor now fell like snow from the heavens. Light crystalline shards, barely perceptible to the naked eye in individually coated the ground.

But Cardinal would not abide that.

Cardinal would correct.

But for a few, beautiful moments, it was as if snow had blessed the scorching sands.

Abellio being awestruck did little to help soothe Oscar's ego. He should have seen that maneuver coming - handled it before things even got so close. It wasn't enough that she was out of harm's way. It should have never been a question of safety in the first place. Mentally, he kicked himself. Self-flagellated over his own stupidity, his lack of care or attention. He had promised a perfectly safe engagement once before and had been made the liar then. So why did he expect that this would be any different? And then he met Lysette's gaze. And there was something in that moment of weakness, where he was analyzing his own actions and pointing out where he should have performed differently that his mask slipped. Less than a second, simply a glimmer in his eye.

But that was all it took. She'd seen, and he knew it.

All these years cultivating his persona evaporated in an instant.

Oscar's reprisal came swiftly. Holding Lysette in one hand, he dropped his sword into the sand. The blade stuck fast, standing straight up as Oscar cocked back his fist. Before the boss even had the chance to dive back underground, Oscar delivered a sharp downward spike with his hand. He landed a telling blow, slamming the beast into the ground with enough force to cause the sand to tremble. The burst of dust and sand caused his weapon to shoot upward into the air. In one fluid motion, he caught the weapon. Spinning it over the back of his hand, he released Lysette and took a step back. If he had been scared, he didn't show it. Merely cracking a smile as he made his retreat. It was best to learn such things with training wheels rather than risk it all on one attack.

"I hope we've learned that heels in sand are not a good idea."

Oscar brought his hand up to his shoulder after he'd kicked Terra Firma away and dusted his leathers off with the back of his hand. He could only shrug at Abellio's question. He remembered that when he'd first got started, he was much the same. Terrified until the rush kicked in. He would refrain from commenting on what he thought. It was a heavy thing, having parents that didn't care about you. Or, only cared about parts of you. They would emphasize those, neglect the whole. And it would fuck you up for years, well into adulthood.

"I can speculate," Oscar said with a shrug. "But out of respect, I'm not going to. All I can say is that for some people, getting into a fight in this game is like flipping a switch. There's a rush. Something about taking control back, I guess.  It happened with me, too. Sometimes you just get sick and tired of being sick and tired."

Oscar had, generally, the same mind as Abellio. The look the two exchanged said it all. Whatever Lysette had weighing on her, running the ones was definitely helping. Or, at least, providing some much-needed catharsis. Besides, they needed to wait for the boss to do the thing before Oscar could do anything to it. So Lysette was free to do as she pleased as far as using the creature as a punching bag was concerned. Besides, it was a thing of beauty to behold. She must have had some real life experience because there was no way a new player could move like that without it. The elegance made more sense with her. More natural. Less brute-forced like Oscar's. His born from the fact that he wouldn't be put on his ass by anyone - even this game's poor facsimile of physics. His ego took a hit, for sure. But he'd take that blow on the chin every time. It wasn't a competition and even if it were, Oscar couldn't say that he would win it.

The quality of the newbies was certainly impressive nowadays. Lysette had some moves and he would need to make a point to figure out just where she had got them from. Oscar prided himself on sweating grace and pissing excellence, but by god this girl had the potential to put him to shame. Terra Firma wheeled around, sinking its teeth into his shoulder. As per usual, Oscar shrugged it off and drove his sword straight through the beast's flank. A jagged red gash was left in the boss' model as he retreated from the pain. It gave him a moment to get his bearings.

"Hold what ya got! We don't need to kill it too quickly!"

Not that that would be a problem. The two of them wouldn't be able to overcome its durability. Twisting his wrist to adjust his grip, he reconsidered.

"Actually, get his ass. You both could use the practice."
 

They didn't have to travel very far. This was at least the third time that Oscar had come here. Every time, he was hoping that the boss would be cooperative and it just wasn't. It was a seemingly dead patch of desert. Some rocks scattered about, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing except for the bloodstains soaking into the sand. He stopped short, holding up a hand towards Lysette and Abellio. He listened to the wind, waiting patiently. The sands began to shift and a fin appeared out from beneath the golden grains. It made a beeline towards them. More specifically, towards Lysette. The creature was programmed to go after the weakest until Hate had been established. Oscar broke off into a sprint, putting distance between himself and his companions. He spun on his heels, running backwards with one eye on his newbies and one eye on the find.

"Yo! Shark cunt! Over here!"

At the last moment, the fin swerved. The beast broke from the sands and entered into a mad dash towards Oscar. "On you two!"

"I was having such a good dream," Oscar murmured. His arm lay across her back, his hand settled on her waist. His explosive reaction had been like a flash in the pan, a quick burst of exertion to lull him back to sleep. Truth be told, he hadn't expected that from himself. Were it not for her reciprocation, he might have thought that he'd done the wrong thing. Passion devoid of emotion felt as wrong now as it felt right in the moment. But he hadn't the wherewithal to express that. He was too tired. And it was her fault. They were both falling asleep, basking in that afterglow and dragged down by the time of day. Whatever had brought her do his door could wait until morning. Though that wasn't to say that Mari didn't have a parting shot left in her.

"So when's Cordelia joining us?"

And that was all Oscar could think about in those final seconds before he drifted off to slumber. She might have riled him up again, had the the energy to do much more than breathe and keep his arm firmly clasped against her. It was a fun thought, but he doubted it would come to fruition. Not in the least because Oscar was a completely different person - a completely different lover - with Cordelia.

---

The morning brought with it the sizzling of a skillet. Mari sat at the island in his kitchen, watching him work. They didn't talk much about the night before. But did they really even need to? Both of them were adults. They didn't need to be embarrassed about it like a couple of giggling schoolgirls. But it had been some time since he'd made breakfast for someone. His trysts usually got what they wanted and disappeared before dawn. They didn't ask. He didn't offer. Merely enjoyed one another's company and parted ways. Sometimes there would be repeat visits. Sometimes not. But the chef inside Oscar was happy to make food for someone. It was a different sort of pleasure. A little more genuine, a lot less carnal.

Mari finally broke the silence. There was a strange expression on her face. Not quite regret. Remorse maybe? He listened to her speak, plating an omelette and sliding it across his granite countertop towards her. A cup of coffee followed soon after before he busied himself with his own meal. He'd misread her intentions. That was a disconcerting thought. She'd wanted to talk and he had made that particularly impossible. At the very least, now sobered up, they would be able to be productive with it.

"Sorry," Oscar said simply. "You just showed up in the middle of the night and I assumed." He cracked two eggs into the pan, busying himself with their needed attention. "But maybe you should get frustrated more often. Damn indeed."