Freyd

Radiant sunlight streamed through the broken canopy of the sparsely grown trees in the Forest of Memories. Freyd had finished collecting his daily reports, assigning agents where and as required to deal with the doldrum affairs of Firm Anima's routine management. Things were much quieter than in the past, or so it seemed, and so the Captain had selfishly assigned himself the duty to patrol the shores of the Lake of Reflection. As trivial a task as it might seem, there was a time during the wrath of Skalaugh and assault of the Sundered Spire upon Coral when the threat was unavoidably real.

"Wait? You mean that it's optional?" The black-clad shadow man quipped as he rolled past her on the left. Springing as he came up, Freyd snapped a rapid series of strikes against their target's legs. A keening howl erupted from each point of impact as Samael's Pride unleashed the hungry void within. Every blow passed through the troll's legs with devastating effect, literally devouring the pixels that made up the mobs in their wake. It was like watching someone attack a pencil sketch with an eraser, literally removing bits of it with every swipe. The beast howled, as much in surprise as

Shades of the Gemini [Addon] Cost: 10 SP Passive Requirements: Disguise [Extra] Skill (must be active) Restriction: User cannot benefit from, or inflict, any returned damage enhancements or item effects based on an attackers dice roll [Thorns, Immolation, Aura]. This restriction does not affect the Parry skill or its mods/addons. Effect: Disguise effects become a constant, passive, critical hits made against you only occur on a BD: 10, or BD:9-10 if the attacker has focus. Additional narrative effects as noted below. Description: Gleaned from extensive study of the Ge

Floor four had a summer?! Who knew? The fact that it apparently only lasted for three days was ironically appropriate... but shouldn't it last four? Any why did so much always happen in this particular level? Mentally shrugging while his brain daydreamed through the mental gymnastics, the majority of Freyd's focus was on the festival unfolding before him. Never had he seen Snowfrost as delightfully decked out in brilliant symbols of warmth. Red and yellow pennants draped every street and building facade. Vendors he had never heard of were suddenly lining every nook and cranny along the

"Truer words, as they say." The phrase signaled Freyd's agreement, catching a strangely pleased look in his companion's glance his way. Who knew precisely what was going through the Jade Hunter's head in that moment? Looking upon him in that moment, he only just realized how much the man's appearance reminded him of a certain someone. Their comparative personalities were light years apart, with Hirru's being much more akin to Freyd's own. "I'm honestly not sure where Morgiana sits in all of this. She seems a pawn beholden to Ali, and yet appears and disappears with such conspicuous coinc

Listening to her admissions and explanations felt like it should be done in silence. Rose was too often hard on herself, but he also noticed how she could swiftly turn dismissive and self-deprecating in her comments. It was part of her tendency towards downward inner spiral that he'd found himself facing off against over and over against. The look in her eyes when he bolstered her confidence and worth was utterly precious, like she'd never had the benefit of such support. It made him want to wrap her in it and just keep her safe and contented - a noble and satisfying purpose. A slim e

"How did she hurt you? Nothing else I've said will change, but I'm curious." It was too rare a chance to glimpse into the person behind the mask he'd never realized was there. How many people wore some manner of the same disguise? It wasn't actually a surprising thought or revelation. Freyd wore so many that he'd always just assumed most people did - though not Elora. Her masks were made of mood, in his former mind, meant to conceal her true feelings. He'd simply never considered that hers might actually hide her identity in this way. Convention expected outrage, but Freyd would have n

Silence reigned along with it consort Stillness. Freyd looked stunned at her revelations, blue eyes shifting back and forth as his mind sifted through thoughts and consequences telegraphing his manic thought process. You could practically hear the gears grinding them, trying to reclaim lost cadence and restore the natural order of a clockwork mind. Most would render summary judgment upon her for such revelations. Who would do such a thing?! Moral hyperbole so often governed human response. But not Freyd's. Halting the tick and tocking motion of his flittering gaze, he'd quickly come to

Ripping, tearing and snapping sounds broke the pristine serenity of the space as something rummaged through the underbrush, felling several shoots and dangly bits from trees just beyond sight. Freyd emerged a moment later, his arms filled to the brim with chopped bamboo shoots and slithering lengths of vine at least one of which was actually a snake. "Here," he added, matter-of-factly, handing Elora one of the longer poles to hold while casually plucking the serpent wound around it and tossing it back into the brush. The tiny beast flailed helplessly as it sailed through the air, indig

A shiver ran through his form, akin to a flicker or trick of the light. Instantly his false fidget was gone, its purpose unfound and therefore abandoned. In its aftermath, Freyd's neutral, piercing gaze had re-affixed itself to his features. Clinically methodical, his machine brain had suddenly kickedinto high gear at hearing her words, searching his seemingly bottomless memory for clues to match the symptoms before him. Strange how he never blinked in this mode. It was as if his humanity was suspended for the sake of focus and priority to other, more cerebral functions. It was nearly m

"You grew up on an island. A cold, wet, miserable island that serves as the shield wall for trade winds, mind you." A goofy and dismissive grin graced his soaking features as he undermined his own initial point. "I doubt we'll find any boats up here. We're nowhere near the settlements on the floor. And if we did, it would mean that someone or something else lives up here." Gazing at the surrounding shoreline, just in case, Freyd found no signs of any manmade constructs or habitation. It was the third time he'd looked, instincts having already kicked in to double-check before stripping t

"Has this only been since the raid, or did you have these dreams before?" Freyd spoke slowly and deliberately, pacing out his words with sips from his own tea while his mind parsed and pondered. Breathing in the vapours streaming from the cup provided added calm and clarity of focus. He'd have to thank Elora for finding this blend once this was all settled. "I don't want to dredge up more bad memories, but that sounds a lot like what I would have imagined Shadow's flood to have felt like. We never really talked too much in detail about that." He looked pensive, possibly uncomfortable hims

Listening to Elora recount experiences drew instant parallels to his own. Freyd also hadn't felt right since the raid either. In his case, it seemed rooted in longstanding issues made to resurface by contact with the void in Wushen, and other similar encounters since. Something about that darkness always called to him. Montjoy was its most obvious manifestation, yet he had fallen strangely silent of late. It would have taken a lot for Elora to give voice to these concerns. She had demons of her own, he'd come to learn, and their clutches drained confidence and any sense of self-worth.

Maybe it was an unintentional byproduct of the skill, or maybe just Freyd's own personal extension, but he'd always examined people in much the same way as he did the treasures they brought him to evaluate. Elora had always been a diamond in the rough, in his eyes, and woefully undervalued, principally in her own eyes. With careful nudging and encouragement, he'd gleaned glimpses of the prize that awaited her at the end of her journey. it was a gift to watch someone come into themselves - like watching a rose gradually come into bloom. In this moment, however, it seemed as though the artis

"Don't worry about it," Freyd replied casually. "Persi's probably already skimming the bottom of the pond, teasing him with her flaring eyes in the darkness. She can be quite the tease... just about always, actually." "I'm glad that I can rely on you to be up during any time of day" Head bobbing with a snort, he was about to deny it when he realized that there wasn't much point. Part of him wanted to rouse a defense about occupational hazards, or somesuch, but Elora deserved better. "Yeah. I'm, uh... working on that. It's not really the sort of habit you can kick overnight." A

Morgiana's words rang ominously beneath the cowl, calling out alarms in Freyd's mind. Few were as intimately versed in the mixed verbiage and double-speak of bare and disguised truths. Even to speak of their dance so plainly was to court calamity. But were they her words or Ali's parroted as disclosure or foreshadowing. She vanished before he could ask. "So," Freyd started, "do you feel like things just got better or worse? I'm still not sure what Ali's really been up to with all of this, and the whole demon metamorphosis things seems far too random to leave unexplained. You might be

Few people knew the interior of Freyd's personal abode, and with good reason. Firm Anima's spymaster had no shortage of enemies, overt and obscure. It was an occupational hazard to which his erratic personality was well suited, yet most just thought him paranoid. Both could be true. His first furtive forays from the Town of Beginnings would only have confirmed it. So much had happened since his face-off against himself. How deeply dipped in foreshadowing that he'd faced off against his gemini during his first quest. Feet dangling over the edge of a carefully manicured opening, Frey

"I guess you can call it my post raid glow up?" Freyd pondered back upon his former fishy self, wondering whether he might have gotten a raw deal on the whole 'raid glow-up' thing. It seemed far more likely that their encounter with... what was his name again? Wutang? Mushu? Who-shen? Taking a page from the disinterested boss' own playbook, he simply stopped caring. Contact with the legendary beast's inner void had only exacerbated his troubling glitchiness and made use of his own shadow-drawn powers less reliable. Perhaps the elements were at odds within him now too? Grandpa woul

He'd completely missed the lumbering giant's approach. Maybe it was merely melding against the surrounding stone, unseen? Whatever the case, Mina's callout roused him from reverie to react, barely in due time. The same club swing that had been aimed for her head nearly caught him in the torso, saved only by dropping prone at the last moment. "Ugzeke?!" Resemblance to the familiar troll field boss was notable, but not all that accurate, especially when the strange gaping maw across the mob's chest belched and spewed forth the most horrid of stenches. "Ugh... not Ugzeke. Worse."

"How far do you think we can run on water before gravity catches up to us?" "I swear that you could make it to the far shore with those crazy Flintstone feet of yours!" Freyd had hardly caught Katoka's words, having only just re-surfaced. The water was crystal clear and surprisingly warm given the climate of the rest of the floor. It truly was a perfect little oasis tucked away beyond the mired edges of a world too often marred by strife. Those thoughts were dismissed instantly. Dreary, dour sentiments clouded in darkness and negativity didn't belong in this place or this moment. Le

'Good enough', Freyd told himself while watching the Jade Hunter fidget with his shield. Jathoom, prone and vulnerable, was also too panicked to look away and thereby sealed his doom. A sudden boot to the back of the head plowed the demon deer's face hard into the ground, most of his antlers shattering into fractal motes from the impact. There wasn't much left to him, Freyd realized and could read from the mere sliver remaining on his health bar. "For what it's worth, and whatever part of Qamaqim might remain within, I'm sorry that it has to come to this." Words said and respect given

Bulging fish eyes swole to the size of saucers as the unintelligible words burbled from his own fattened lips, nearly causing the previous caffeinated drink to fall from him fingertips in surprise. Apparently, Freyd still wasn't quite awake. Mention of his friend's wardrobe change only frazzled him further. For someone who prided himself on attention to detail, to have escaped something so obvious AND forgotten that he'd morphed himself into some sort of anthropomorphic fish was a double blow. Palming his face only added and extra layer of slime over already sludgy skin and worsened what w

A presence stalks the halls, visible but unknowable, even to itself. It searches and ponders, reviewing prior choices while anticipating those yet to be made. No certainty abounds and interest wanes. What to do... what to do. No response is forthcoming and its shadow stands idly by for a change. Not helpful. Energy. Energy was a problem last time. "Better do something about it for the next time," it says aloud, but to whom? A simple horn is selected from the list, ornately gilt, yet also functional in shape and size. Handling the sample triggers memories of previous uses, and to good

Bleary-eyed and still struggling with the blissfully oblivious depths of the deepest, soundest sleep he'd allowed himself in longer than he could fathom to remember, Freyd swatted half-heartedly at the insistent UI as it persistently sought to deliver his friend's message. A single eye, or half of one, peered and scowled from beneath the cowl, itself nestled beneath a blanket and two pillows, grudgingly acknowledging the missive and barely registering the contents: something about being fishy and bringing poles for roughness on sixteen. That was about all he got. Add to his persistent

Taking advantage of the spat going on between Morgiana and Jathoom, Freyd slipped beneath the demon-deer's defenses to deliver a series of swift blows that dropped his already hurting health bar firmly into the red. Sword Art delivered, the Whisper spun for effect, knocking the thing's spindly hind legs out from beneath it, enabling his own withdrawal. The mob was clearly on its... his... last legs. Har! Har! 'Let them have their little discourse,' he thought, marveling at how the anime penchant for mid-combat chatter also seemed to run strong in SAO. Part of him felt like he should pa