Setsuna

Weighing carefully the lesson that the swordsman had wished to teach. That cold and calculating gaze, almost keeping with it a sense of naivety. "No further has a fact been spoken. A blade is an extension of the self, an assertion of will and drawing it requires an adhere to a code. Mine, answers a cry of violence each time its drawn." Looking to the hungering blade in the dust, finding itself its own oozing mist. Having slipped so gently out of its saya, the embrace of Snowfrost still bleeding from it. "Setsunin~to." Setsuna remarks bluntly. "Is counter to your beliefs. It is called the

It would appear that the girl was staring at the horizon as if searching for something. Setsuna was trying to see his perspective, in the most literal sense. Some had considered her a creature of the cardinal, a manifested weapon and punishment akin to that of redemption. Or a response for the lack of an attempt at the quest. To others a story, a big fish story that had no truth. To the ones that knew the truth, they never lived to tell it. She was the boogy man, one that existed but didn't. No truer a statement then how she felt. "They were, once." A simple response as her silver-blue ha

Placing the pipe gingerly into the phoenix's clutches, staring out into the horizon that had since twisted to twilight. The orange being replaced with the cool blue, night had fallen. "I'm afraid, what happens when I do?" Setsuna admitted her only fear. "I agree." Kneeling low and using her left hand to push her skirt beneath her butt. Modest even still, Alkor would get the taste of the chilled weather of Snowfrost. It held to her no matter where she went, although the heat on floor 9 threatened it. "People can't stomach the thought of murder. I've dealt with the hesitation and with the desire

That thickened ball of flame began to linger just above the glowing sea of dust, about to find itself submerged in its expanse. Eyes lock to Alkor watching wistfully as he spins a pipe in his clutches, clearly taking in his words. It was rather strange how the two had so obvious a difference in opinion and yet both found the ground to discuss. "There isn't a good answer." the girl remarked in a low monotone, that fell from her lips like an afterthought. "I know that I am broken. I cannot picture myself outside of this." Admitting it more to herself then for Alkor's benefit. "For year

As her attentions lingered on the sun, basked in that burning glow in silence. Allowing Alkor the ground to speak. After all she was fair. Wisps of smoke emanating from the phoenix's pipe listing limply through the air around them both, being carried by the odd wind as it would pass by. "Your absolutely right. For all but one thing." Words hang limply off her lips as they played out, weak and quiet in their delivery. Spoken as if to not disturb some lingering thing that lay out in this wasteland, or perhaps as she did not feel the need to speak loudly. "There is only life and death. I am decid

A sharpness to her tone, as she slinked into herself. "Everything I had, everything I knew." The faintest pain on her tone, as if her heart was bleeding. "You know how hard it is to rebuild from nothing, in a world you know nothing about. Its overwhelming, consuming. It's easy to say, that I can just start over and forget. But it haunts me, I cannot sleep, I cannot eat. And this game wont even let me die." Embracing her arms, feeling warmth that burned and ached. As it would turn out, emotional scars could be much deeper then any physical one. Turning to Alkor with a glare, clenching her

Finding some comfort in a hand placed upon her head, although it was nearly scalding. Survival had done her wonders as to wielding skadi, but it had also robbed her of all heat and cast her pale white. "I was late the only time it mattered. I was naive, hopeful. Before Aincrad I was blind." The retelling stung hotter then any knife or blade, like a razor across her throat. A knot the size of an apple. A story not spoken but lived, where few knew it. "The three charged with introducing me to this game, as a way for me to experience what it is like to see. They were brutally murdered outside of

Dragging the small oiled bit of cotton down the length of the blade, as it threatened to freeze but couldn't. A permafrost film following it instead, giving the metal a look like breath on a window. The girl glanced over, a pair of striking cyan blue eyes that were in direct contrast to the orange hued backdrop. "Such a curious place for laughter, and yet it suits you." Setsuna remarked with that same signature tone, chilled and aloof. "It is quite the jail cell, and some would be lead to believe it paradise. So foolish and frivolous, the small birds in cages that try to tap and cope with thei

Taking her place on a bit of what was once a ceiling, now nothing more then a crumbled slab of stone. Using her hand to press a skirt like slant flat as she folds her legs and offers a blade to her lap. Sliding it from its sheathe and revealing a parade of white mist like dry ice that collects beneath her. The girl removes a small box, long and thin and lifts the lid. Inside a bottle of oil, a few rags of different textures and a slab of stone affixed to a block. A metallic click as she twists the handle, one eye shut as she scans the katana's edge. "Normal people don't belong here. This

Through an amber orange glow of setting sun, past crystalline fixtures that once drew life. The soft patter of tabi on a layer of dust that threatened to consume everything. Each step leaving a small groove, a remnant that would be erased by the next passing wind. A frozen heart one that matched avalanche, filled to the brim with sorrow. More of the shambling dead rushed haphazardly into the storm and found themselves trapped in its wake. Like lemmings off a cliff, their tendons seize and refuse as the temperature dropped. There was an elegant beauty to this exile, where most would fear to tre

A decrepit city of stone and soil, where moss clung to every surface. Shambling dead move to and throw through every nook and cranny. Each passing moment sees another small fraction of rubble fall from nearby decayed building, making a sharp clack that causes the horrors of the floor rushing to it. Ravenous like wolves, they clamber to the sound as if it was bell to the next meal. A soft exhale from the girl sees the bitter frost sheering cold turn them to nothing more then frigid statues. Beyond that which most could challenge, and with it a sense of stagnancy and a lack of purpose. Late

Dont remember if this is right, yell at me if I goof 6/18/23 Fusion/Upgrading: solemn. | [#193305a] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | EVA | RISKY | HB regards. | [#193292] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | REGEN | EVA | HB Becomes: regards. | [#] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | EVA II, HB II [desc.]: black techwear hoodie, with a high collar. stiff material, and a multitude of pockets. costs: x1 scale, x1 shard | [paid.]

Yep, this Fusion/Upgrading: solemn. | [#193305a] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | EVA | RISKY | HB regards. | [#193292] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | REGEN | EVA | HB Becomes: regards. | [#] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | EVA II, HB II [desc.]: black techwear hoodie, with a high collar. stiff material, and a multitude of pockets. costs: x1 scale, x1 shard | [paid.]

PH 198876, T4/Perfect/Cloth Armor + [Demonic Scale] Dark Messenger's Garb T4 Demonic Cloth Armor | MIT 1 | RISK 2 | REC 1 A matt black pairing of hoodie and pants, slightly reminiscent of real world casual wear mixed with the garb worn by some of Aincrad's most notorious assassins. At home in the light or shadow, it belongs in both worlds where its wearer once belonged to neither. Taking a chance also makes it, and him, that much more dangerous. Name: Dark Messenger's Garb Profession: Tailor

3/9/22 Materials Sent (Dated | 9/22/21) Materials Sent: 10/6/20

3/4/22 Roll: ID# CD: LD: Quality Count Experience Ambition Mod 1 204926 CD: 4 +1 LD: 12 Uncommon - 8 (+5 Ambition) 2 204927 CD: 4 +1 LD: 17 Uncommon - 8 (+5 Ambition)

3/3/22 (Crafting Respite: 186446) Roll: ID# CD: LD: Quality Count Experience Ambition Mod 1 204518 CD: 2 +1 LD: 3 Salvage Failure - 7 (+5 Ambition) 2 204519 CD: 6 +1 LD: 20 Rare - 10

A somber tone, as she'd remove herself from that which was born again. The howling winds continued on around them, where not a moment before had become silent. Through thoughts and consequence or a clash of hope, a single moment of security betwixt its gaze. Caught on the taste of what might come, on the thought of what might be. And yet she chose this, chose to stay her blade for but a brief moment. The truth was the girl could not stand what she had become, and it was plastered on the still fleeting callousness stuck to her brow as if it was adhered there. The slight popping of her heel

A quiver in her eyes, as the color starts to fizzle and fade out. "Who will have mercy on me!?" What an odd question, as she kept with that same intensity. The words fighting to be heard in the maelstrom that screamed around them. The snow threatening to bury them both under its magnitude. "I am already drowning in it, Alkor, It's all I can feel. I won't pretend I am not a monster, I hate myself." A scattering of something glimmers and is sucked into that wave, and the shout felt pained. Like an exposed wound in agony, it felt taxed and bleeding. She was lying to herself, to protect herself.

2/19/22 Materials Sent: 8/23/21 Materials Sent: 9/22/21

YEET Given to Koga Given to Bismuth Given to Xena

The bitter chill continued to blaze on around them, threatening to circumvent the player's survival as it howled. "Death is a lesson to those that survive it. You are so sure that they will learn, that they will witness their mistake or taste their own fear. What makes you believe that they will not seek out the easy solution again?" Hand resting on the handle of her blade, weighing her options. She knew damn well Alkor could keep up with her enough to make obliterating that scum difficult, and her element of surprise was all but gone. "Those that survive them will learn from their mistak

A harsh grinding as her blade is dragged against a rapid moving Alkor's, casting a shower of lights and sparks as they connect. Another slam as she vanishes and reappears, to Alkor's immediate right. Past those angry slivers of metal, a locked gaze betwixt the two. "You would preach to me of violence, after what I've seen their kind do?" The words came off harsh and cold like sandpaper. A vorpal tear and blades ring out, it would look like a storm to which Alkor was in the middle of, even still the man didn't seem bothered in the slightest. All that he'd reflect, was that same stalwart stare a

A click as she redirects, apparating out of thin air and pressing her back into a frozen stone. The crunching of footfalls as bodies began to shuffle. Peering out as clumps of fog join with that blizzard, escaping the inch of steel of a rime cold blade. A sharp exhale, as she reaches into her clothes and removes a small vial. Her saya just beneath her wrist lights with a sword art being charged. With a thumb, she plucks the cork and casts out a tiny red light that quickly manifests into a loose shape. "Use that potion." Biting her teeth together so aggressively, it cut the lining of

The storm thickened, as bitter cold tore through flesh to bone. Bodies become buried in a sea of white. A predator in that white had robbed them of courage, and they'd succumbed to it. Nefarious purpose had set the dial on that clock far past the strokes of daylight. A slender draw of a blade from the scabbard on her waist, color becoming mixed within that flurry. Nestled in that white playing the part of camouflage easily, a ghost by all definition. A body becoming translucent and like vapor, as legs began to carry her. A vow carrying her. Faint cries from the boy still missing his