Elora

"Is that where were headed --?", Elora blurted out after Sable's suggestion. Don't tell me the raid has already started. And so soon after the last -- “I would really like to avoid the water if it’s possible. I can’t swim all that well in heavy armor.”, came Edict's nervous reservation. "I don't know anyone's looking to take a plunge in the Styx -- But we don't exactly have a choice here. The sword knows where it wants to go or something and I've got friends who need me on the front lines!" With a well-placed kick, Elora pushed them off from the shoreline and leapt to join the vesse

"Elora.", she introduced herself bluntly. Meanwhile, her mind ran in frantic circles. She had been looking to them for aid, and suddenly she was supposed to be one in charge? What the hell are you doing on the HIGHEST LEVEL?!, she nearly blurted out. Under different circumstances, she would have hounded the trio for coming here. But there was no time to waste. Not for her sake and especially not for their's. Leaving the blue one to handle the sword, Elora would look for a way to make the others useful. "You know where to go -- so we just need to get there.", she thought aloud as ey

Elora's chewing slowed for only a moment as eyes grew wide at the revelation. You don't have to eat here? Had she ever really fasted enough to see? Suddenly sheepish at a perceived lack of discipline, her hand replaced its fork with the handle of a mug. I guess there were days -- when I was too scared to leave the inn...and also a little severely depressed. Even still, her appetite had rarely seemed to falter. If anything, traveling across Aincrad to sample every kind of taste and texture it had to offer -- it was one of the greatest pleasures of living here. If there was no breakfast, lunch,

Thunder barreled overhead as streams of water carved smooth gullies through the compacted mud below. How long had she been out here? A few hours? A few days? It felt like wave after wave of phantom knights had spawned in to overwhelm them, and Elora was losing track of time. At first, she was cutting them down with friends. In the streets of shuttered towns, then the canyons that stretched beyond them. It hadn't been enough. More enemies crept to each corner of the floor. Freyd and Katoka had gone to help. And Elora... Heavy footfall sent frigid water sloshing up her legs. Drenched

♫ The Comforts of Home ♫ Unexpected warmth returned to her hand as the traces of Mari's had finally left it. Rugged at first, the sensation of a finger coursing across her's gradually chiseled away at Elora's emotional barricade. Surely, her signals had been obvious enough -- or perhaps...that was why Freyd was offering her this silent comfort. Eyes slowly glanced sideways to see that his were turned downwards, methodically scraping some straggling berries from the sides of his bowl. It was clear that he was still upset. And yet... "Gods…you two really love each other huh? I

A hard lump formed in Elora's throat as heat finally began to bleed from her forehead and cheeks. After securing a sausage, something smothered in sauce, and a variety of fruit through the hasty stabs of a fork, she took her seat at a nearby stool. At least happenstantial convenience proved that one still remained perched, stationed equidistant between her partner and their guest. “If our roles were reversed…I’d probably have slapped him.”, Mari attempted to reassure her. Instead, shame sunk even deeper into Elora as she bit her lower lip. You've fucked it up again., an inner voice a

Elora watched the chaotic scene play out before her with a stupefied expression. The squelching smack of a soggy sandal met with a cursing shout as her partner entered a desperate grapple with the other woman's ankle. What she'd first assumed a floundered execution quickly began to resemble a wrestling match between two feuding siblings. Freyd's hands released their grip, towing a stool to rest beside their kitchen island. “Mari, I’m Mari, meet stool. Sit. Get to know each other, and we’ll have ourselves a perfectly reasonable, decent meal.”, he barked, his anger palpable. Daggers shot i

A spinning cinnabar cursor captivated Elora's attention as soon as she turned to regard Mari. If only for a moment, her eyes became transfixed by its scarce appearance. Then, the gravity of what it signified. I wonder who she killed., came an immediate curiosity. It was strange, novel even, for the thought to carry any weight. Every day, players eagerly slaughtered monsters and pre-programmed characters. Killing, like most of their lives in Aincrad, had become routine. Just another day's work. “Uhm….”, she barely heard above the cognitive noise, “Hi? E-Elora Right? Mari. I’m Mari.”

A comforting patchwork quilt gently swaddled around her beloved as Elora resisted the teensy-weensy urge to straggle him into an eternal slumber. Surely, a simple knot and a concerted twist of the wrists would see the job done. There was plenty of leverage and more than enough strength to -- she dismissed the intrusive thought with a sharp drawing in of her breath. What in the actual hell was he thinking? Bringing a player-killer into our house?! How are we going to -- how can he think that that's safe?" Elora was acutely familiar with the disorienting nature of a few stiff drinks. Even s

Uneasy eyes shot glances from one player to another as they attacked with unexpected coordination. By the time she'd struck the knight and stepped back to reclaim her distance, a different player had rushed in to assume her place. As usual, Freyd had goaded their enemy into a false sense of superiority before flipping the switch to render it stupefied. Meanwhile, a stylish man in a red duster seemed to dance around the drunken stammers and swashbuckling staggers of a comparatively plain-looking soldier. Katoka spared only a moment to extinguish her lingering fears before lunging in to finish t

Once again lobbed into a mixed media janga tower of cuteness, the furry, slimy, and rocky familiars slowly got back onto their paws, tentacles, and pebbles - respectively. A series of disgruntled noises morphed into pleased acknowledgements of the enemy's defeat. Pale blue fog oozed from beneath the former chimney's bricks as they swore to have heard the faintest, "NOOOOoOoOoooo..." caress their digital eardrums, auditory canals, whatever -- All that mattered was that the stupid knight was squished and that they were still perfectly voluptuous. Magically, the storm clouds offered their co

Surging commotion drew her closer to the battle as a group of dazed players hobbled past. The oppressive darkness, dispelled by the intermittent flash of steel on steel, smothered their sights as soon as action had extinguished. Like air splitting from the lighting strikes overhead, thunderbursts and players alike rushed to fill the vacancy in a crumbling defense. Elora's mind flooded with a million fears as rain began to fall. Exhaling in ragged breaths, a tightened chest remembered the rising waters, the sensation of air escaping her lungs for a final time. Instinct feuded with her aspi

Dark droplets began to stain the ground as an encroaching thunder rumbled overhead. Stringy and disparaging, the forbidden calamari appeared to have fallen victim to its haphazardly-executed assalt. Sporadic drizzle swiftly swelled to steady shower at the soon-to-be expense of the makeshift sea-bear circle. Between the craggy gaps of fractured cobblestones, water channeled and dissolved tiny ravines through the spilled crystals, weakening their protective power. Hanami had already identified the looming threat, and moved to strike before opportunity evaded them. Climbing atop a nearby bui

Creepy, dank, and unnervingly wet. As if Aincrad didn't have enough of that. Sure, the swamp floor had its share of rank bogs, but at least it had some sunlight now and again. On the other hand, Floor 13 had been cloudy, but there were still some cool craggy landscapes and crumbling cityscapes to explore. This place was just...depressing. 'Nightmarish' may have been more apt a description. Elora had made no haste to come to this place. Not after Freyd's harrowing encounter with death. She hadn't been there when he had needed her most, and to imagine, rushing onto a level without safezone

Jumbled pebbles reunited atop a furry waterbed as magnetic attraction fused each segment into place. Feisty and prepared to exact his vengeance, the tiny terrestrial golem catapulted from his flubbery cushion to survey the surrounding area. A sharp chirp goaded his attention over to a narrow stretch of path. Littered with toppled bricks and rickety barrels, it would serve as an excellent trap or barricade for their newly-forged common enemy. Borris wasted no time, his rocks reconfiguring to flatten and roll out like a flinstonian transformer. The improvised chain swerved and snaked its wa