Freyd

“I have control now!” Mari shouted back, doubts tender hooks trailing the waver behind her voice. “Back then I did it to spite a world I hated! It’s different now!” Raucous, blatant, mocking laughter was the Gemini’s first and foremost retort, a paltry reward for Mari's failing courage. “Shit, girl. You lie to yourself far better than I ever could! Always have. Always will.” Following to call out Mari’s penchant for falling prey to her own foibles, Akir went on to press her face harshly against the ground, suffocating breath and will alike. “Every. Time. You always pat yours

Dark nothingness enveloped them, seeping from every groove, slit and joint in Belregor’s vaunted armor, washing over them like dark tidings of lost and distant yesterdays. All players in Aincrad once fallen to Shadow’s flood would bear some familiarity with its suffocating absence. Freyd, had touched it more deeply than most, the boss’ very essence channeled through its puppet champion Orgoth’s blood riding the conduit of Samael’s Pride. To this day, he felt its blight gnawing behind every hope and good intention, casting doubt upon every action. Were they his choices, of something else’s?

Sent missive said nothing about the neutrality of Mari’s frigid lawn. Lancaster was also the type to use such technicality as some sort of paltry excuse for anything he might have planned. Cowl deliberately set to his shoulders. Freyd listened and watched as Mari ran to the man she loved. Freyd’s mindscape envisioned two other figures in their stead, wondering how a different overlord might react to the moment. What would he think and do in Lancaster’s shoes. Probably something bold and stupid, which didn’t bode well. Bird punted back to the basement, Freyd closed and latched the door

"Strike me down?! BISCH! I crawled my way outta you!" Eyes twitching with unbridled madness, Akir lunched and slashed with unrepentant fury, marring Mari's hair with a few close calls. Despite her reckless aggression, Mari's blow had infected the Gemini's black bile body with a poison deeper than any venomous spite it could inflict upon her. Years of suffering, introspection and pain had inured her against her demon's heart's dark impulses, at least enough to recognize them for what they were and to deny them purchase. Every tragedy, every loss, every death that had torn at her from w

"He bleeds. End him." Words that reached the deepest, darkest recesses of an addled mind, dangerously devoid of all restraint and restriction by dearth of inhibition. Unshackled, after so long... Nari, Morningstar or Katoka might have recognized the same unhindered energies they’d once witnessed while cleansing the source of thirteen's lingering corruption. War’s very essence bonded with Freyd’s spirit in a terrifying union that had threatened to unmake his mind… as if reducing it back to factory default with apocalyptic consequences. He’d mowed through the Blight’s children

Mari misunderstood his perspective on NPCs, but now wasn’t the time or place, and he wasn’t altogether sure how sane it all was. This place took its toll, in this case, it might have taken everything from the very start. Rather than prod, he just let the topic slide, preferring praise instead. “This is delicious, Mari. Thank you for inviting me here, and for this wonderful meal. It means a lot to me.” A blushing smile, restoring some hint of the happiness he wished so desperately to preserve, threading fate’s needle with filaments now tainted with blood. Would more follow?

"I knew you at least accepted him - to an extent with your present. I just...didn't expect this." Lips pressed together, Freyd raised his brows and allowed his eyes to widen in mixed surprise and agreement. “I hadn’t expected him to reach out directly. What I know of Lancaster speaks to violence first, thought after, if at all. He’s a raw nerve unable to ever be sufficiently scratched or sated - always burning and consuming itself.” A sly, bemused grin returned, friendly banter preferred over the heaviness of what might come to pass. “Guess that might explain your attracti

He didn't jump. Plate shattering against stone in a highly appropriate approximation of a mob's death throes... or a player's... was more than a little on the nose. Freyd's quiet, polite smile never faded, never flinched, steady hand calmly sipping at his hot beverage. It seemed suitable repayment for what she'd put him through learning about her latest kills, not that he had any intention to actually berate her about them. She just seemed to expect him to. Eyes reading her reaction and aftermath, his concern was genuine as he rose to help with the cleanup. “Who…contacted who?” Her vo

A total stranger trotting down the road caught his attention, a prickly quality about her standing out as she apologized for something. “Mari, Ariel, Freyd… Good to be questing with you all again. And Freyd, you seem… expressive today.” Eyes widening, Freyd looked behind him, genuinely expecting to find another Freyd standing behind him, like he’d somehow become his own very unsteady shadow. A hand landed on his back, reassuring him it wasn’t so, goofy grin restored. "Freyd? Good to see you." “Tanjaween… hic,” was all he managed, grinning goofily while overly distracted by

Unfathomable, yet to see Mari be so domestic was unquestionably heartwarming. Taking the black nectar-filled mug, her choice of flavour shots was hardly missed and thanked with a slight raising of the vessel in salute. How had they come so far from the yesterdays when regrets kept them farther at bay from each other than steel pikes might have managed? Shimmering green, her eyes spoke volumes at the bottle received and placed in prominent honour on her brand new mantle, next to her favoured and visibly restored instrument. So much renewal… “Thank you.” She whispered softly, “Really

"Heh..." Arms still crossed. Body still casually leaning. The faceless woman had played her part and showed remarkably little surprise at the firebrands' predictable bravado. The book had proven accurate, as it always did. Lancaster would revel in his act of rebellion, preferring dramatic action over brains. Sometimes it worked, but that was more a biproduct of daring than anything impressive. Luck is not a plan. And when his headstrong finally cleared whatever crimson haze of rage had cleared his pulse-addled head, he would recall Opal and the rest. If his assumptions were correc

Slouched in an overly comfy couch, empty tumbler slowly filling with melting ice at his side, Freyd stared at two translucent windows set to his default private viewing mode. It wouldn’t do to have people casually sneaking peeks over his shoulder and catching whiffs of sensitive business. Loose lips, indeed. It was the content of purest dichotomy split between the two that struggled to reconcile. On the left, a lovely and heartwarming invitation to visit Mari’s newly upgraded home. He’d been looking forward to it since it’s unexpected arrival. By way of contrast, an update from his man

A delightful, hearty cackle rang out across the post-apocalyptic scenery. She'd expected boastful bravado, but this was beyond the pale. "Tolerate? You have no idea what you're facing, do you?" Hood shaking side to side, even as the mysterious woman's shoulders shuddered with barely contained guffaws. "Allow me to enlighten you. Have a seat, just... don't dip your feel in the pool if you want to keep them." Waving a supple leather-clad hand through the air to summon a still image of the Monument of Life, a twist of the wrist reversed the image for better glancing. "People

Rumours were swirling through back channels that Magistrate Aldenbrook's filaments and fingertips had been snaking their way through Glyndebourne's back woods once again. Another purge of the Fire Woods found evidence that her insidious cabal of miniscule minions were working their previous mischief, but on a much lesser scale. Diligence would be key. Agents to be dispatched would monitor and report, managing the threat to keep it from weaving its was back into plague-like prominence, as it once had. Freyd, meanwhile, was looking forward to a quiet drink at the Naughty Pigeon. Sally's

“Uhm…just so yanno…I wouldn’t actually slap you that hard.” A quiet, berry-flavoured snort followed by slow lifting of azure eyes, worn, but not so easily defeated. Their mischief kindling beneath the rim of bushy grey and black brows as his face rejoined their tentative conversation. "I've done more than enough to deserve it, mistepping clumsily as I go. Sometimes, it's the only way we learn." Admission to them both for past failings, and those inevitably yet to follow. Freyd wasn't perfect. He stumbled like everyone else, but held the bar high for reasons beyond the reach of

"How?" The solitary word hung lonely in the silence. If Lancaster expected to get off the hook with empty promises, he was reminded that this wasn't some random thug in a side alley. More than some dismissive handwave was required. A mess had been made. His mess. His exposure. And he'd be made to squirm like his own subordinates, save without fire. A pall of dignity was preserved through the lack of obvious audience. Were this truly a reckoning, other fingers would be present to see the example made. A handful of digits, swiftly removed, might have been tossed as an offering to the u

Scouring the underwater ruins near Raitoboru Bay had proven less than fruitful. Any hopes of finding some connection between the Sahagin and various eldritch horrors from Ilridge and surroundings had produced only one thing: a very waterlogged Whisper who longed for a sunny beach and to remove the dive suit more passably calling itself his heavy armor. Dragging himself from the depths, Freyd groaned stiffly, rotating his right arm to loosen the effects an ocean's weight worth of compression had placed upon his joints. "Guess I should just be grateful for the water breathing potions and

No warning, just searing sensation and phantom pains of fingers lost along with the rest of her right hand. The appendage, still clinging to her halberd crumbled to the sight of the weapon's twin cleaving through avatar flesh while facing opposite. A grin, Cheshire-mad and furious as overly familiar footwear pinned down her stump and cast Mari's defenses casually aside. One quarter of her health vanished in an instant. Three more strikes in the same manner might spell death. By the ominous grin and sinister cackle, her Gemini shared the same thoughts. "I have so been looking to some

"FUCK YOU ALL!!!" Akir's rage bowed trees and grass alike away from her like a microburst snapping the wind in a sudden rotation all around them. The spontaneous proto-tornado wrenched the chains from her companion's grasp, loosening all hold upon the raging gloopy mess-of-a-Mari, who promptly tore the barbs from her inky flesh and hurtled them back at their bearer. Something akin to a tentacle spun around, spawned from nothing and existing only long enough to snare a wide-eyed Mari and toss her into Akir's only remaining way out: right through Montjoy. Detached from his caster in the c

Studying their opponent while the others battered it with their coordinated assaults, Freyd was watching for telltale systems signs. Blood and fire. Something about the way the boss' wounds were shaping led him to think there might be some added weight to the concepts. Unfortunately, none of them carried the right gear any longer to do much about bleed damage, but he and Foyle had access to fire. The archer had no luck on his more randomly triggered attack, preferring to crack the nut for the rest of them to break through instead. "Guess that means I get to light the match." Charging

"This was... not what I expected." The same held true for the rest of them. Far from some fire and brimstone infested underground torture chamber, they passed through the portal to find themselves in a farm field like so many others they'd seen during their sojourn around Ronbaru. A grain of some sort, unfamiliar to him, but closely resembling wheat, grew all around them. "So, where do we go now?" Freyd and Foyle exchanged glances, unsurprised that their academic friend had deciphered the initial puzzle, but struggled the moment he was actually in the thick of it. Ren was always

"Prudent and wise. Event-related content can be unpredictable. Thanks for letting us know immediately, Ren." Freyd was already passing around hot treats to warm their bellies before they entered the newly found gateway. "We found four of these sets. Presumably, each can be combined to open a similar portal. Everyone has teleport crystals? Good." Glancing over his companions, Freyd was grateful for an unexpected reprieve from combat near the outskirts of Ilridge. They were holding, but gaining nothing. It was exhausting, and even the most stalwart required rotation away from the f

“Akir…” Freyd knew where Montjoy’s title had come from: the haughty and ill-fortuned herald of a doomed army, ultimately compelled to eat his own words and suffer the ignobility of defeat to a lesser. What would this one’s story be, he wondered? “I’ll be your family, my sweet Montjoy.” There was a time when Freyd would have worried that his other half would have been tempted by her words, but Montjoy had too long served as his own conscience to so easily abandon the moral persona that had become his centre. Ever the pragmatists, both of them, Montjoy’s strength came from the h

"Isn't it curious, mio amico, that even with all of these other busy bees, that this bothersome nuisance should find its attentions drawn to our activities through completely random and alternative means?" Even through the audio distortions, her meaning was clearer than a cold, still Austrian lake on a winter's morn. Despite the oppressive literal furnace heat surrounding them, there was a sudden chill in the air, like the void before them had suddenly cooled its temperament. "It wasn't Bran's zeal, or Rosaria's entourage, or even Tybalt's deliberate distractions that required my direct att

It took more coaxing than expected, or that he would have liked, but Mari had at least managed to place the mask over her head and protect herself after the dark thing spilled from her guts in thick, viscous spurts onto his lap. It should have disturbed him. It would traumatize most people. Freyd filed it away for future forgetfulness, like a mental wood chipper-shredder for inconvenient truths and memories. There was a job to be done here. Letting his alter ego take the lead, at least it felt like it was part of him this time, and not some wayward doppel copy run amok, like the slime