NIGHT

the risk she'd taken was calculated. but boy, she didn't account for this variable. that echo of her status falling off, it haunted her every nightmare the moment she knew herself to be vulnerable. and it was no different here, now that she felt the gaze of the skaven upon her, a misdirection act from her party members gone wrong. the player held her breath. put her entire weight into the strike, that familiar chain of events, the blow hard and heavy just as she'd always remembered it being, following through on her executioner's lead. and that tough hide of the ratman bit back a re

there existed a concept in programming: inheritance, night felt to recall, while watching the sliver of slop run across the entity's carved complexion. not that it was similar in concept to the situation she found known geminis to be trapped in. that disowning of her original's name seemed to come naturally to this particular mirror, and a wry thought struck the player if it was just the same for her own, had night one day felt the need to disappear. it wouldn't make sense for artifacts in the system to linger, the woman processed. this was the height of technical prowess, after all, the reali

the stench was nothing less than horrible. but judging from the masks her quarry had so quickly donned from naught, night wondered if there had been an epidemic that encouraged such behaviour in the populous when she wasn't looking. even within her sanitary country, not everyone back home would've executed on the practice. perhaps in another lifetime, she mused. (and the player knew if she were obscuring herself this well, she would've had an armored helm prepared instead.) but night hadn't the equipment available; neither was it necessary to go up against an overgrown, overzealous

Her way out the sewers was long, winding and arduous. After all, breezing through the different stalls filled with savoury food again and not think twice about opening her wallet? A challenge nigh impossible, and yet when the player arose from the underdark unscathed and col intact, she did wonder with pride how she was able to surface unscathed. When she caught sight of her gathered party under the light of the sun, NIGHT realized that it was on her, again, to guide them back without getting distracted. ( --Honestly... ) "Crow, up top," she hollered, noticing her friend notably

gaps between dream and reality proved themselves existent, the woman taking her eyes off the glow stone to the shift of the pawn's gestured hand. one pelt of something similarly shiny -- night wouldn't have been surprised if she'd mistaken the lobbed object for that held light, but the registration of unkindness, one construct to another, felt just off enough to have clicked her awareness back into place. she shimmied inside. the scent of delicacy caught her attention, but did no more to persuade her to partake in it once the mugs were placed down on the counter, contents bubbling suspici

Radio silence for a good bit. Radio silence from her party members. Meanwhile, NIGHT was debating a heavy amount just how much underground food she should be purchasing. In her hand was a paper bag filled with skewered food -- sweet meats as a snack half-eaten, and a potato with its entire length down a particularly lengthy stick. She'd that and more stowed away, with a packet of glutinous flour mixed with peanuts and sugar added to the heap. "Thank you! Come again!" And NIGHT finally had the gall to make the items disappear, still chewing on a packet of jelly, reminiscent of th

the story beats played out the way she knew them, the way cardinal was aware of them. gemini. lynn. a curse. (on who? the thought of it almost begged night to have given a chuckle.) "i am a gemini," the doppel had declared. and the player almost felt giddy, heavy demeanor almost breaking. if she were to be asked a reason for it, night certainly wouldn't have been able to reply. that this was a recurring tradition in aincrad? that so many people fit her type? or that geminis as she knew them, the speaking type, the type to rationalize themselves with players, were starting t

Her evaluation of Cardinal's new sword skills were as such, as she lunged forward in a flurry of lights, bright attacks. She could be deft and swift as she once was, and new enhancements had been made to the system to ensure almost all strikes were registered motions for an impactful swing. Especially with a weapon. When NIGHT slowed, her breathing was maintained; her mind rushed to take notes of her experience, graciously understanding them to not be as meticulous as usual. But she had been listening to someone else in the meanwhile. She could grant herself understanding for that notion.

'As soon as possible' was a time frame that NIGHT wasn't in particular agreement with. She had the co-ordinates of the entrance to underbelly of the city ahead of her. Alongside Crow's contact. If her companion was missing, she didn't think he'd make a huge ruckus of his disappearance. (What sense of irony would befall her in times to come.) To: @Hirru NIGHT: i'll just msg him NIGHT: why not just meet up here w/ crow NIGHT: gonna move on for a quick scout b4 coming back NIGHT: > [Floor 25 - Lower Ladonia] (##,##,##) NIGHT: lyk if anyth happens To: @Crozeph

Friends? NIGHT's ears nearly pricked up at the mention of them. Had it not been for her meditation at the falls, she wouldn't have had the remembrance of her own isolation seep into the forefront of her thoughts. Her movements slowed, just as Seraphina began speaking; it bode well to pay attention to someone when they were talking, after all. But part of it was from that fresh taste of melancholy. And in addition... what was the best wish for them, for Sera? That she hoped they'd made it in, just to remain refugees of the iron castle? Or that they hadn't, to better leave her companio

That 'pretty' statement was supposed to make a point. It'd slipped out of both conversationalists' grasp, however, the moment Hidden had affirmed her considerations to NIGHT. Throat gulp, a duck of her head — there might have been a nigh unmissable flush if they had been outside of dreams. Here, she maintained her complexion, NIGHT forgetting how warm everything seemed when she was complimented by another woman. "Even though you look uninterested in everything around you, when you fight you get this look of confidence. As if everything is under your control. You always seem to know

"They're not following us, are they?" "No, no. I would 'ave known if t'ey were." Silent footsteps and heavy attention. Either NIGHT's gaze was genuinely imperceptible within her disclosed state of being, or the two boys hadn't felt the stern stare she'd fell upon them, her soles almost gliding across uneven stone. They were brisk-walking, the younger's eyes over the back of his shoulder as his older brother slung an arm over his shoulders, hurrying him along. "But if even foreigners are asking questions now, someone needs to be told about t'is." So they rounded another corner. "

A wild guess indeed. NIGHT hadn't expected to come off looking like a stealth-based player, but she knew when to be put to work, especially by someone she thought to be more senior than herself. That, and staying quiet was something she'd preferred to do at the end of the day. The player tucked the pouch of col away, silent. If there was a wry expression on her face, it would've been disdain at her approach not having worked from the get go. But the attempt had already been made. Back straightened and gloves dusted off, NIGHT nodded to Hirru's instructions once. "No promises, but I'll mak

Experienced? The thought of this other player being unlikely so had briefly crossed her mind. It didn't fully register to the woman the other implications of being referred to as 'experienced' until Sera had seated herself fully, when the woman was already in the midst of trying to rejudge the stranger's character while also gathering her composure. "U-Uh," NIGHT found herself stuttering, tucking a lock behind her ear out of habit. "Thanks— I guess. I mean, I'm not really much of a teacher myself, but..." It dawned on the woman to have made more sense vocalizing her assessment of Sera, by

A nice summer home. Had NIGHT been lucid, perhaps it would've filled her with an equal amount of fear as did pleasure to have known that sensation: the thought of warm sunlight, the catch of sweet spring water, the frost of the breeze that swept through the fields that laid around it. A cozy summer home; tiny dancing flowers on their long, thin stalks, stone steps that she could feel her sneakers, her bare feet even graze upon. Granite. Rough, unpolished, wild. That dream died just as the two of them came away from wistful thinking about such an idea. Wisteria trees wouldn't match, N

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