Bistro

As she shuffled past the boundary between safe-zone and the wilderness, what was left of her meal for the day was a scrunched up loose piece of paper. Partially oily, unfit for further use. Bistro ripped it apart in her hands, four fingers, two for each pinch, tearing it apart with a break at its center. The item combusted in a flurry of particles, to which the woman waved them off with a flap of her hands. 

She dusted off her palms, before setting her hands back hanging on the edges of her pockets casually. There was a hill she wanted to head towards, not far from the gates of town, that she’d made part of her regular gathering routine, whenever she left the city to explore the fields. Even though a gathering of materials was much easier done in the safety of the Garden, sometimes the alchemist simply needed a change of pace. 

Out here would do. On her walk, Bistro leaned down, scooping up a small, familiar herb found lying in the grass.

It had been months since they were all trapped, stuck fighting for their lives in an iron castle locked in the sky. 

Life went on. Businesses were started, institutions set. Guilds rose, and fell. Parties formed. The human spirit found itself once again active and indomitable, after the initial shock from the news that befell them, and the mass of tragedies that trickled in afterwards. Most players slipped back into a routine, a stable comfort remnant of their own lives from reality -- waking up, heading out, dedicating themselves to a grind before heading back, all the while holding onto hopes of a better, brighter tomorrow.

Consistent. A surge of that optimistic start came again in another wave, another form, when grand news came out to most of the public. Professions started to trend then, from that day onward, the proudly restructured industry finding itself booming with activity. It had put a strain on the store of materials any hunter-gatherer person had once cached away, but that vacuum only invited more players previously held up in stasis to join the ranks of the adventurers. In lieu of the news that all players, even the ones who’d scurried themselves away since the start of the death game, could become a contributing member in aiding army that would fight for them, a once forgotten hope was renewed, along with a subtle comforting relief that gradually overcame the tense atmosphere that was once washed over the Town of Beginnings.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances that all players found themselves in, today, one could take a walk through the city on the first floor and net an unmistakable perception about its surroundings -- a jovial atmosphere continued to persist in it, its residents cheery and lively, wandering about the streets in a bustle.

It was as though the war against life and death had not been thrust upon them in the first place. And perhaps, Bistro thought, as she trekked out of town with a half-eaten hot dog in hand, that optimistic disposition was for the best.

To: NIGHT
If I knew, it wouldn't be happening.
Thanks for lunch. 

Quote

Received.

Look who won the lottery! Not you. But this is pretty close, right?

"Hetocreamycopia?" Bistro found herself grinning from ear to ear. Out of confusion or amusement, she couldn't say. "Uh, thanks, I guess." They were contacts, she'd wanted to say. Dual-coloured eyes of such stunning variety were unlikely to be real nor possible, any way. But damn if they didn't make Bistro feel at home with her appearance. Instead, she raised an index as she waited, towards the shop keep herself. "Ceres, right? I should stop by more often, some time. High-levelled merchants with shops this welcome seem pretty hard to come by, these days."

More importantly, she thought, eyeing the materials by the counter, I can get more of those here. Good. NIGHT was right on the money after all.

When the unidentified items were presented to her, Bistro let out a whistle, eying the one ultra-refined sword with amazement. That thing was in her aide's pile? It looked beastly. Magnificent. And she wondered if her clientele had anyone else to trade it away to, on the account of them not utilizing one handed swords in the slightest.

"That..." Bistro picked up the other potion and examined it over, admiring its lovely colour. "And this will be enough. More than enough, I reckon. You sure are something, 'keep, I'm impressed."

"I'll be taking these, then," the woman added, retrieving the items to her inventory and heading out the store with a wave. "Pleasure doing business with you. Be seeing you again, probably, in the future." And then the lady was gone.

Errands like these were exactly the reasons why she'd been lounging around the first floor so much.

Bistro entered the shop, catching a whiff of the scent of baked bread. If she hadn't known any better, she would've assumed it was a bakery, and figured anyone else might've done the same. Instead, with a black burlap sack in hand, she strode over to the counter. The brilliant red hair of the lady behind it informed her that this was the right place after all.

Y'know, aside that it was literally right beside one of her clients' workshop. The one who couldn't make it here today, on account of being a big baby.

"Identifications, please," Bistro relayed to Ceres with a smile, leaning against one of the walls of the room and folding her arms. She could wait. She had time.

@Ceres

To: NIGHT
You're a big baby sometimes, you know that? On it.

Quote

Received.

Bistro whistled as the heart of the party came back, returning to their circle. So much for starting the conversation, but at least there was order now. With a bow, she began to introduce herself -- even dropping her real name. The broker raised an eyebrow, thoughtful for a moment, before resolving to commit that to memory. One could never be too overly-cautious with picking up new information.

A weapon. Just more to take note of. With a few flicks of her menus, she pulled open a small cloth-bound tome and a black fountain pen, starting to take notes. The woman watched as Azhoda seemed to flex, humming impressed, before glancing over to another, who'd been distracted the whole while, chatting with someone beside him. Low level, huh?

She penned it down anyway. Might as well -- there was always the potential that new adventurers could turn out to be somewhat promising. Sliding the pen into her pocket, she kept the tome in her hands, finding its weight comforting and familiar.

"Guess we're only sharing what we're fine with, right?" The player queried, placing her fingers to her chin. "Eh... I'll play along. I've already said it earlier, but if you didn't catch it, I'm Bistro. My real name's Bianca Fontenot, though I doubt we'd have any use for it." The woman grinned, coupling it with a muffled chuckle. "I'm an info broker, if it wasn't obvious enough already. Uh-- weapon?" She extended her arm outwards, half-heartedly offering her tome up with a smile. "This, I guess. I could bash it over the head of enemies, right?"

A shrug, as Bistro scanned the group. "I'm mostly taking notes on what's happened in Aincrad in the past. Keeping track of what goes on in the castle could lend us some clues about what there might be in the future. Also..." With a wince, she gently brushed her fringe away from her face, the hair prickling into her sights uncomfortably. "I'd plug my shop right now, if it wasn't undergoing renovations."

The woman drew out her pen once again, opening her tome to a fresh page. "Right. Questions, questions.... Eh..." With a shake of her head, she sighed, twirling the pen in her hand out of habit. "Most of my curiosities lie with the front lines, having heard that they've been silent for a bit. But I'll take almost anything anyone's got. What're the most recent expeditions any of you've been on?"

It wasn't long before the informant was approached by another player, introducing themselves as Shion, owner of the estate. And the player by her side -- Baldur, appearing to be of Japanese descent, if his looks weren't betraying his heritage. While they both made their first impressions alright, the woman found herself glaring back at where she figured NIGHT was skulking around in the shadows, a silent curse when their host tripped over their words. This is exactly why neither of us should be here...

"It's Bistro," the player finally managed to spit out, glancing back at Shion. "Sorry. I know you guys," she gestured over to the attendants, "aren't familiar with me. I'm just here to hang out and listen, that's all. I hope I'm not intruding."

I mean, I might as well be on duty here, the broker reasoned with herself, partially out of spite. There's always more work to be done.

It was a short trip to the forge and back, though the woman kept an ear out for what the other players would be talking about. When she returned, in her hand as she returned was a paper plate with a slice of pizza on it. Bistro glanced around, noticing a orange-haired lady absent from the pack, but chalked it up to more guests being welcomed in. Perhaps she'd look for them after introductions.

"I mostly hang out on the first floor. I'm not much for combat." A snap at her food, as the broker looked upon the players idly. "But it's nice to stretch my horizons once in a while, like today. What've you guys been up to, though?" She tilted her head, humming. Maybe the prompt was a little vague. Not like anyone was gonna talk if she wasn't specific enough. "I don't suppose any of you are from the front lines. There's not been a lot of news for a while since the 24th floor, so I've been wondering if there's been any movement on their part." She waved around her food a little. "Or what about any new players hitting the fields? Seen anyone of interest like that, lately?"

@Baldur @Raina @Atzo

It was with Bistro's greatest displeasure that she was hauled to the scene of the crime. Plebians, all slacking off when there was work to be done. And now she would be categorized as one of them, as the dark adventurer kidnapped her from her desk and carried her over her shoulder towards this... party. Ugh. Why did she know so many adventurers, again?

Her job? Being dragged to parties was not her job.

"So, this counts as 'my best shot', right?" NIGHT began, and the informant knew how vile the smile on her cheeks were. "No. No it doesn't. You're just being mean about this." The woman blew at her fringe in a huff.

"Yeah," her enemy scoffed. "Just like how you are for your 'research'."

"Are you-- Are you still mad about the artisan thing?" Bistro groaned, struggling to escape the adventurer's hold. "It's literally my job? Don't you have yours?"

"Yeah. And today it's 'investigating' this player run event." A chuckle from behind. "Isn't that part of your job description too?"

"F**k you."

She watched the warrior stride past a number of plots, trying to reach for the concrete walls to slow her opponent down. When her captor leaned in close enough to one, Bistro thought she was capable of stalling the journey. Instead, NIGHT took a turn, forcefully ripping away her victim's grip from a corner as she entered the estate. The broker looked over her hands, now welcomed with red, painful fingers. Gods, I want to go home.

"Right," NIGHT said, stopping for a moment. They were opposite another plot's entrance, so her best guess was that unfortunately they were already there. "This is it, I think."

"Cool! So I can be set down now, right?"

"You leave when I say you can leave." A hum from the woman in dark. "... So like, give me two hours tops."

"Two--"

As the knight began to move again, shifting underneath the wooden entrance gate, Bistro sighed as her gaze met the guards', who eyed her every movement. Great, now she was the weird one. Maybe it was time to shift gears so she wouldn't make a fool of herself in public.

Her captor stopped, slowly unloading her cargo from her shoulders. Bistro hesitated to find her footing, grabbing onto NIGHT out of spite. It was to no avail, though; her kidnapper would rue the day with her agenda. "Right," the latter said, grinning from ear to ear. "There's the buffet table. What do you wanna eat?"

Bistro glanced over at the crowd of players, unimpressed. "Do you even know any of these people?"

"No." And with the evilest of grins she'd ever seen one make, NIGHT shoved the woman's form towards the strangers. "But you will."

Oh great yeah sure this is fine.

She returned the foulest face she could make to her 'friend' and trudged into the fray, hunched over in annoyance. At the very least, since she was already here, she could do herself the favour and help herself to food. It was a better warm up to (ugh, god) 'socializing' than whatever NIGHT herself must've been up to.

Now, who was here at this 'party'...?

> Starting conversation with @NIGHT.

Attachments (3):

"Good," Bistro replied. "Now, I believe we're here...? Give me a second--"

She picked up her speed, briskly walking ahead of her herd. The long narrow tunnel was starting to open up, with a light in the distance. The warm glow probably meant it was a fire of some sort -- the light outside was more hellish red than cozy orange. A look upwards -- sure enough, with the ceiling being raised, these must be the caverns they were heading into.

"I guess that's the end of our journey," the info broker announced, wandering first into the open space. She approached the crate nearby, taking a seat right next to the lamp, scanning the vicinity.

"So, where's the exit?" One of the civilians began to ask. Bistro pointed over to where a faint red was pouring out of, nonchalant about the scenario. "Go on. Git."

"Git," NIGHT mocked, from the distance. "Really?"

"Yeah, get moving," the informant grinned, smug, looking over to her pack of NPCs, watching as they started to approach the gap in a single file. "Good."

Quote

Objective: Escort Civilians to Safety
ID: 133553
LD: 19
Progress: 3/3
[>> Castle Dungeons] --> [Tunnels] --> [Caves >>]

Castle dungeons, castle dungeons. It was difficult to tell where it was, on the account that it was the first time Bistro had even stepped out of the first floor herself. But with the help of her map and the advice from her informants, she made it through. Good.

She'd taken a quick count of the citizens she escorted. Nineteen people -- no, make that twenty, if she'd decided to account for the player tagging behind her. It looked like they had their own party, too. Who was it...?

She was capable of taking a closer look as she stepped into the cell, gesturing the civilians over to the hole in the wall. A glance to their name. Oh? So it was NIGHT. She hadn't actually expected to see one of her agents here in the flesh. A hand upwards to greet her, before she followed behind the last of her line up.

Quote

Objective: Escort Civilians to Safety
ID: 133553
LD: 19
Progress: 2/3
[>> Castle Dungeons] --> [Tunnels] --> [Caves >>]

The woman finally had time to step outside for a bit. As she left her abode, she stuffed the cloth she'd accidentally brought outside into her pockets. A gentle hum, the figure striding over to the teleporter. There would be much to investigate about this new event, and Bistro would want to meet an occasion like this first hand.

An update from one of her contacts -- the invasion had shifted over into its second phase, and resulted in the players' objectives being changed. One mail came in as an update earlier, the town was well defended at this point. Another was about an escape route through the castle dungeons, pertaining towards an escort mission.

Right.

It was fortunate for her to run into such a large crowd right off the bat. The people seemed to be anxious, frantic. Rightfully so, with their homes about to be left in ruins. Clanging a metal skillet in her hands together with a wooden spoon, she caught the citizens' attention. "This way, if you'd follow me, please!"

Quote

Objective: Escort Civilians to Safety
ID: 133553
LD: 19
Progress: 1/3
[>> Castle Dungeons] --> [Tunnels] --> [Caves >>]

BISTRO | Lv. 13 | DMG: 16 | HP: 260/260 | EN: 44/44

INVENTORY

SKILLS

contacts list. / story so far.

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