Freyd

About to return the quip, Freyd paused to watch the shattered corpses twitch, then clamor back together and merge to become greater and nastier versions of their original selves. "Uh. Yes, you did. Slacker." Hoping to catch them off guard before they could fully reform, Freyd launched himself at the nearer 'coupling' and slammed his fist precisely where its two heads were intending to meet. One sickening crunch later, the morphing monstrosity split like some sort of fleshy-digital banana with the upper part peeled and wondering wtf just went wrong. Bouncing off the stone wall behind

If looks could kill... He'd done it again, and she hated him for it, but also knew that it was his own twisted way of showing his friends that he cared. "You've git aishans, Freyd." Exhaustion was finally claiming a win, her anger spent on futile efforts to do whatever it was Landon had sent her out here for in the first place. "Oh, I've got reams of those," he added, chuckling to himself. "I think we can all acknowledge that and move on. The point, my dear Quip, is that you don't need to hold on to yours quite so tightly anymore. If you're ready to face off against me,

Quip just stood, mouth agog and features flushed a fairly fuchsia hue while Freyd revealed his machinations. Berate him as she might, there was a caring core within her that comported itself according to strict and practical principles. She just kept it clad in celtic highland dramatics most of the time. Orchestrating a peeling of those layers had taken time and a fair bit of gambling on his part. "You cuid juist friggin blether tae me, ye know?!" Freyd just frowned. Why on Earth would be possibly do that. People did that. Not him. Besides, this was much more effective and

"Come on Quip, you can do it." He watched her sheep-handling from afar, gauging her pauses, the pacing of her outbursts and the variable tension across her shoulders. She was nearly there. Just a little more until the penny dropped. You couldn't force Quip to do, well.. anything. Nothing she didn't already want to do, at least. Freyd had figured out long ago that the best way to overcome her stubbornness was to turn it against itself, then get out of the blast zone while it worked itself out. Pushing her to the brink at the shop had been the nuclear option. There was always the ri

'Too bad there isn't a decent fishing spot around here,' he thought to himself. Burbles taunted him from the nearby brook, but it was too small to offer any worthwhile rewards. Fond memories of sitting by his metaphorical right hand gazing into still waters while she pondered her own struggles. What had Setsuna been up to, he wondered? How unlike him not to have checked, though he could scrape together a guess. The answer was always the same. Consistent as a glacier that one, and just as inevitable was its consequence if it blocked your ship's path. Kasumi had also been distant and sile

Freyd had always admired her passion, even when it had a tendency to bubble over to excess and scald anything within a surprisingly extensive splash zone. It's what confirmed that she was ready. Gone were her dejected days when Maeve's death preyed upon her every waking thought. He honestly wasn't sure if she'd come back from it, but Quip's spirit was irrepressible. Leaning against the Town of Beginning iconic bastion walls, he sucked on a piece of grass while dressed as a newb player. Squatting in the tall grass, broad rimmed straw hat dipped low, he simply watched from afar as she rampa

"Tazer, huh? Yeah. We could do that." As he spoke, Freyd's hands shifted and twisted, almost like his palms rotated a full three-hundred-and-sixty degree. They roiled a blackish purple as they spun, changing into something that just felt inherently wrong. A snap of his fingers, having restored themselves to their proper position crackled with sickly purple lightning. "Yeah. We could definitely do that." A quick jab to the back of one zombie's spear spun the blade on the far side, pivoting it to slam into its companion's face. Its wielder turned to see what was going on only to fee

"I guess times are changing. Maybe with a few more items and skills I could actually take a step out onto the frontlines. Unless you think I'd take some of he spotlight away from you regulars." Smiling at the jest, Freyd knew his friend had long since been ready. "Katoka, you have the heart of a lion. You've always been ready." The rare compliment was spoken with utter sincerity and would likely catch her off guard. Better Freyd it up a bit to make her more comfortable. "A pint-sized lion, at least." Knowing better than to race her, especially since she got her zoomy zap-stic

Freyd laughed lightheartedly when she tugged at his hand, completely oblivious of her encounter with Quip and truthfully just delighted to see her again. The ripples of his well-intentioned machinations regarding the Scottish dervish were left to work out in the background until he could catch up. And besides, he scolded himself, breakfast with her trumps most everything. That thought alone confirmed how much he'd actually changed. Still playing sheepish and coy, he thought to himself as she twirled her hair. He'd long since noticed her various tricks and games, but thought it best to kee

It took ridiculously little effort for the Whisper in Shadow to blend in with the rest of those players still lingering around the Town of Beginning, wandering the fields and watching as Quip barreled through them in search of materials she'd need for her quest. He could only imagine how Landon was likely celebrating these precious moments of silence. At least Quip wouldn't be hard to follow. Sprinkling materials in her way might be a little too obvious, even for her, and was unlikely to qualify for quest requirement fulfillment. Crafting a neutral and unremarkable appearance, somethin

It had been days since Freyd had forced the confrontation with Quip as a way to try to get out on her own. Elora's invitation and all that followed kept him busy enough to keep from following up on his pet project, as did keeping Dingo awake and in some semblant state of productivity. The boy made sloths look industrious. Catching up on myriad matters after the brief and welcome distractions, the Whisper soon caught wind of some disturbance in the slums of the Town of Beginnings. According to reports, some raving madwoman was terrorizing the locals with some form of sonic weapon that circu

"I know I took a decent hit, but I was ok you know." "Yeah?" It almost seemed like Freyd hadn't quite been sure how bad the injury was, or maybe he simply didn't know how to react to it. "Yeah. Right. You, Elora, the others... you're tough bastards now." A goofy grin spread across his shadowed face as it if the realization had only just dawned. "Err... bitc... you know what I mean." Best not to push his luck. "When the heck did that happen?" The question was clearly rhetorical but hung in the stale and dusty air nonetheless. "Well, I guess we can start heading back?" The

Something snapped inside him at the sight of a streak of orange pixelated mesh along Katoka's flank. The grit of her teeth and the momentary pause of breath as she berated herself for taking the spear like a champ. Her signal given, she would see a copy of her friend materialize immediately beside the towering mob just as the original dissipated from his previous position. Sound just stopped working for a moment as a bubble of bullet time radiated from FTK's centre mass precisely where the Whisper's fist had driven full bore into the mob's chest with the force akin to a nuclear bomb. Rippl

"Hmm?" Freyd had been so lost in thought that he actually hadn't noticed her approach - which was not the slightest bit like him. He was that guy who could leap and cling to the ceiling like a terrified cat, then spring down and unleash full murder-hobo-Armageddon on whatever unfortunate source disturbed him in the first place. He was never not alert, yet here she'd actually snuck up on him just by walking casually down the road. "Oh, hello Elora." A smile spread across his face, disturbing in its utterly uncharacteristic normalcy. Where was the paranoia and furtive glancing over sh

"She'll not bother you for a while, I hope." Freyd stood once again by Harkens' side, the stoic NPC staring at a crowd of re-spawned Red Cloaks waiting in the valley for her to return and start slaughtering them all over again. What a strange fucking world. The Knight Captain merely grunted. Freyd smiled. He liked the dour knight's composure, especially given the tragedy of floor fourteen's lore and inevitability of the Red Cloak's seemingly inevitable demise. "Fighting against all odds and desperation. I can relate. When she returns, let me know. I have a few questions for her boss."

"Freyd? We lookin' for big dragons or baby dragons?" He had no idea. Why should he? It wasn't like Cardinal spilled its secrets before releasing new content, though now he wondered whether some of the brokers somehow had an inside track. The corresponding conspiracy theory was instantly filed away for later brooding...er, consideration. "Not really sure," he mumbled, climbing a nearby tree with disturbing ease and vanishing into the colourful canopy. A few startled and angrily chirping birds scattered at his passage while branches creaked as he approached the top. Like some sort

Sitting idle in the desolate heart of a dead city. What a life... err... death. Whatever. Nothing ever happened here, other than recycled battles that almost always ended in the re-demise of the dude sitting in the ex-glamorous chair at the focal point of everything and nothing. Sure, mobs milled and shambled about endless in the ruins outside, but their patterns were predictable and avoidable. This content was as stale as the air in the rest of the throne room. And this to a man who lived in a zombie-infested swampland where most of the air perpetually smelled like rotten ass. Clinging

Hood up and eyes on the food, Freyd features were seemingly always have concealed. Such was always the way with the Whisper - the guild's O&I captain. Even when in full bloom shenanigans, he always seemed to have something held back or ulterior motive. It probably just came with the job. "Elora's well, I think." Persi licked away a few crumbs on his lips until he gently pushed her away. "We haven't seen each other in a while, but I keep tabs on everyone as best I can. There's definitely some sort of glut or malaise affecting everyone these days. Not that people are necessaril

A series of what sounded like thunderous explosions rocked the cavern network in the distance, reverberating through the interconnecting caves like the breaking of a planetary scale freight train slamming on the breaks. There was no light, but the cacophony was deafening. A plume-like wave of dust spewed from a nearly cave-mouth, confirming the source and highlighting the silhouette of a slender figure tumbling casually down the facing cliff with arachnid grace. His trademark cowl instantly gave him away as he approach, scraping fading motes of mob dust off his shoulder as he approached.

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos. Freyd was practically beside himself, except that Montjoy would have taken such efforts poorly. That was his job. Little more than a seeping shadow without substance or permanence, he still managed an unnerving degree of autonomy. Currently, he was using it to mock his caster - the object to his inky existence, who was absolutely unhinged over the fact that Quip had followed through on her threat. "Shut yer geggy 'n' be greatful that ah wis willing tae dae it fur ye. This steid is a disaster, Freyd, 'n' ah will na langer be wading thro' th' debris fi

Sauntering casually into the underwhelming shop, it's shelves still largely bare and stock supplies minimal, the Whisper's casual footsteps were lost amidst the din of clangs and pings echoing throughout. Ren was lost in his work, having shifted his focus from blades to heavy plate. It was a novel experience with a lot more nuance and complexity. Freyd, for his part, was content to watch and judge the smith's motives and potential for himself. He'd heard of this fellow and the uproar he was causing in Tomoika with his goods at cost approach. Truth was that Aincrad's economy was in shamble

Thin. Drawn. Stretched. A figure made of nothing stepped without sound having appeared as if from... itself? Something about it seemed wrong - anathema to its surroundings yet still tangentially connected. There was a kindship, yet the world recoiled at its presence, as if reality were holding its breath at the thing's passage. So much had happened since it was last here. Glancing down, it wondered whether its feet still matched the first footsteps to enter these halls. Trivial. Irrelevant. Forgotten. Drawing out its empty gaze across the hall, it found the choices unchanged, yet on

Known to the erudite as The Citadel of the Lost, few truly knew the origins of Firm Anima's headquarters. Constant turnover and attrition wore its identity down to the nub to be forgotten on the edge of the Forest of Memories. How ironic that this place, laced with so many secrets, barely clung to its own identity by a thread. So much like its owner and creator... Sitting in lotus on an erratic hunk of smooth-worn basalt, the Whisper swayed slightly in the breeze to the same silent tune as the surrounding field of lilies. Something had urged him seek out this place again and delve

Tiny toe beans, black on black, prowled through the thinnest of spaces between the door and its frame without a sound or stirring. She was made of pure nothing, after all, and quite prideful about it. Not much bigger than a housecat, but lacking the telltale ears. Hers were smaller and rounder, tucked in close to her head and blending in with the rest of her inky body. Only her brilliant azure eyes revealed her presence, distinct in that their irises were slotted on the horizontal. Definitely not a cat, but a mongoose of the shadow variety. She sniffed at the air and slunk about the plac

"Relax, Xena. There's no real danger out here." Freyd's demeanor was calm and casual. He patted her on the shoulder to draw her attention to the NPC, even as Pete started scampering about in some frantic frenzy of denial. "This can only mean one thing: you took the mayor's money, didn't you, Pete?" Rather than deny it, the old man was already running madly down the dock, crying out about some great legendary fish he'd just spotted, as if that was somehow going to get him out of paying back his debts. It seemed like a sudden and strange turn of evens until a spectacular speckled swo