Jump to content

SketchSkirmish

User
  • Content Count

    20
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Posts posted by SketchSkirmish

  1. 'Pull her into the open field and kill her then, huh? That's one way to bypass the safezone. Can't imagine anyone would just stand around and watch that happen without someone saddling up to white knight for a gothic damsel in distress.' Sketch checked his twisted desire to smile in the light of the sadistic humor.

    "Well," he replied to @Dazia's inquiry with a shrug. "When you've lived in the Town of Beginnings, rumors tend to spread. I hear you're a fairly good duelist."

    He paused to let the words sink for her. Yes, the implications were clear. How much did he know? Maybe later, she'd be inclined to seek him out to find out.

    "Just a few months ago, there was a skirmish in town between some little blonde and the aquamarine knight." Sketch tilted his head in reminiscence. "I think that's what they call him..."

    He looked to Koga.

    "Blue guy. Always has a bird flying around him. Kind of quiet. What was the username..." Sketch's foot tapped against the wooden floorboards. "Ah! Calrex! That's the guy."

    He turned back to Dazia.

    "Duels are about the only kind of sports we civilian players get. So word spreads fast. Especially the uh..." Sketch tapped his lips. "The duels where only one walks away. There's a big black scoreboard in the middle of town. Can't miss it."

    As though the ultimate implication of murder didn't bother him, Sketch gave his attention back to Koga. The repercussions of his words lingered at the back of his mind. He hoped the girl would chain her anger in the presence of such a crowd. He also hoped to see it first hand another time. So much data. So much to learn. What led to those full loss duels? How did she cope with the blood on her hands? Was there innocence behind those eyes or the thirst of a killer hiding in the wool of sheep?

    "Trinkets huh?" Sketch's tone mellowed to one of interest and intrigue. The thick, underlying implications were replaced with genuine curiosity. "Never thought about starting with trinkets, but it makes sense. Frankly, small work might be something up my alley. And to your point..."

    Sketch snatched his knife back from the tabletop and pointed it toward Corvo in a reciprocal manner from earlier.

    "Taking up a profession here is better than some minimum wage, customer service or fast food gig up top. Hell, better than being some mid level manager babysitting a building full of incompetent employees who'd rather be out there than in a cubicle for all of their waking hours." Sketch knowingly broke the taboo of mentioning a place most chose to forget. He pulled his knife from view and placed it back in its hip side holster. "Sounds to me like I get to make some cash pursuing something I personally find interesting than being forced to do something I hate just to put food on the table and keep the lights on. Hardly have to worry about either here."

    The brunette took a drag from the newly placed "root beer". Unlike the watered down hops tea he tried earlier, this went down sweet and earthy. It reminded him of fast food, childhood memories, and simpler times. The nostalgia alone felt intoxicating. With an exhale and smack of his lips, he set down the beverage with a nod.

    "A good choice," he commented.

    In the meanwhile, Corvo unleashed tactless feedback toward Sketch's new acquaintance. His hands tensed and the hairs on the back of his neck rose sharply.

    "Not one for beating around the bush," Sketch stated without making eye contact with Corvo. "But without knowing all the details, that's like playing with fire."

    "You must love to watch things burn." The comment fell flat and lifeless. Sketch hailed the server as she finished with the wild redhead's order delivery.

    "Could we get two pilsners?" He gestured to the area in front of him and Crovo. The server turned to them with concern and shook her head.

    "I don't believe we have something like that here, sir," came the generated response. Sketch sighed.

    "Let us try whatever it is she's having then." Sketch pointed two fingers toward @Charlotte. The waitress nodded and vanished to the back once more.

    @Dazia@Corvo@Koga@Charlotte

     

  2. It seemed that everyone enjoyed Blueberry's cake. Sketch simply couldn't. He wasn't much for cake. Just felt like a mouthful of damp, sweet bread. Either way, the budding baker's beautiful blueberry cake received plenty player praise. The ladies all seemed to pool together as they talked about alchemy, baking, cookies, and skills. Meanwhile, the gent who Koga nearly turned into a human sheath for a dagger decided to take his angry scowl and turn it into interest. It seemed that this fellow took great interest in all things pointy and designed for damage. Sketch couldn't tell if it was his body language in general or the casual pointing of a well crafted blade toward his face that indicated the player's love for messing something up.

    Sketch's gaze went from the blade's tip to the newcomer with a raised brow. As it almost seemed deemed by fate, the heightened aura of the room escalated as the door slammed open. A redhead with what seemed to be brass knuckles stormed in and started shouting orders. This "nailbiter" sounded like some kind of alcohol. That, or a drink made with a mix of unpleasant ingredients.

    The blacksmith elaborated an answer to his original question. Sketch listened intently. The details of crafting costs, attempts to succeed, and overall profit analysis gave plenty of useful information not fully explained in the Player's Handbook. The brunette nodded.

    "I see," Sketch confirmed, hand over his chin. "So far less lucrative in terms of cash. Not to mention, if gear like that is dropped as a quest reward, it's like you have to compete with a saturated market. So even if you took custom orders, the risk of loss is higher than the guarantee of profit. Unfortunate."

    Almost on cue to the smith's comment of luck, a massive bag of various objects spilled out across the center of the table. Some of which encroached on the baker's remaining cake. Looked like... a bug leg right next to it?

    'What would you make with that?! Poison?' Sketch thought. With pause and a squinted glance to the ceiling he nodded. 'Yeah, probably...'

    The deliverer of the boon walked from behind Sketch and with a short comment, exited.

    "Who was that?"

    Before the others could answer his question, the Blueberry girl scooped up a slice of her crowning achievement and rushed it to the stranger in the doorwary. The blonde addressed the girl in the corner and a familiar sounding name took to the air.

    'Dazia... Wait. Didn't that girl with the weird accent have something to say about her?' Sketch paused and made firm, direct eye contact with the girl.

    "I've heard of you," Sketch commented with a narrowed look. "Yeah, Dazia was it?"

    He watched her scrounge up some baubles and minerals from the bag. Her menacing look to the stranger that dropped off the freebies, the comment about a safe place, hiding under the table. Sketch let the corner of his lips pull back into an amused grin. He shook his head. While his expression lightened up, undertone of his steeled gaze conveyed an entirely different message.

    "The name's Sketch, pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the conversation. Must be rough getting chased around by thugs. Can't imagine what that would be like. Shame that the guards aren't what they used to be, letting folks like that run rampant."

    'I'd love to get some more information out of you later... Ms. Killer,' he thought, all too familiar with the fact real murderer's couldn't enter a safe zone. Or at least that's what the Player's Handbook stated.

    After his loaded comment, he looked back to the bag of goods. Sketch wanted to wait until the others had their pick of the lot. Without a profession, he didn't know what was needed. At this point, he'd talk whatever handouts he could get.

    "So," he turned back to Koga and nodded his head toward the bag. "Seeing as how there is some fresh materials on the table, let me jump to the point-- I'm looking for some practical starting equipment. I saved up for this little number, but it was all I could afford with my savings from little odd jobs." Sketch tilted his hips forward a bit so he could snag a finger through the end loop of his karambit. With a tug and a twirl, she snapped it into his closed fist in a reverse grip. The blade's hooked talon swept out a good four or so inches from the meat of his palm.

    "I went for something that could do a bit of extra damage and a better chance of landing a hit (+1ACC +1DMG)." Sketch eyed it a bit, tossed a glance to other guy with a knife and then laid it on the table between him and Koga.

    "You seem to know quite a bit. Any recommendations for a field rookie?"

    As he finished, the server arrived and placed the cold root beer in front of Sketch and Corvo. Then, she wandered over to the redhead with whatever a "nailbiter" was.

    @Corvo@Charlotte@Koga@Dazia@Blueberry@Lishuu@Astralin@Raidou

  3. Spoiler

    ID# 183831 :Battle: 2Craft: 3Loot: 2MOB: 3

    Failure

    Zajcica quite literally went off. Considering her height and soft appearance, her words were jagged and crass. The point of her words seemed focused on individualism, but the lackluster emotional involvement still kept Sketch hesitant to completely disarm himself.

    "I don't recall slinging an insult," he quipped back. She continued past him toward the exit. It felt like pity-- a self serving need to casually helping a weaker player as though it were something to pass the time. He was some animal or pet that needed help crossing the road. His face scrunched up in disapproval and he begrudgingly followed. His longer legs made catching up to her less than an effort.

    "Rally or not, I'm not about that kind of he/she/them nonsense between me and you. You choose to hit the field running, I chose to adapt to a different way of life before heading out. Frankly, I'm bored of playing house. It's time I contribute something or at least find a challenge while we're stuck here." Sketch breached the walls with her. It wasn't his first time, but he could count the number of outings on his hands over the past two years. For the most part, this close to the city walls was just as safe as inside the walls. With leveled players always having increased traffic near towns, all it took was a cry for help and a blade would show up.

    Not that Sketch ever put himself in that position.

    "Listen, I didn't mean to strike a chord. If you want to help me on some starter level quest, thanks. I didn't mean to type you as some heartless monster. I'm just some nobody skimming though the Player's Handbook. Figure people like me are a bother for people who know what they're doing."

    @Zajcica

  4. "Noob," Sketch scoffed. He paused, then shrugged. "Fair enough."

    'I mean, she's not wrong, but to just come out and say it.... Wait--'

    The menu appeared with her name, invite request, and basic stats: health, stamina, level...

    "Woah," Sketch looked beyond the party menu with a skeptical look. Were it not completely insensitive to ask, we would have inquired her age. He pulled his head back behind the menu and hit the accept button to make it disappear all together. Shortly after, she presented him with some items. He took them from her reluctantly, one of which was actually food.

    "Thanks?" he stowed it away temporarily, not entirely sure he needed either, and cautiously looked over the girl for the umpteenth time.

    "Alright, alright. Why are you doing this for me? I mean, you don't know me. You don't owe me anything that I know of. If you really are one of the top five, what're you doing on the first floor?" He had tons of questions. It just seemed all so opportune, but if it turned out just to be good karma playing in his favor, who was he to deny it?

    @Zajcica

  5. The two clowns exchanged a few more words but despite the second's entrance, an air of experience hung about him. Sketch took interest in this. He approached the Monument of Life beside the fellow and eyeballed the names in the area he was looking. The guy was busy berating the insensitive prick that already made his way for the exit. People like that would end up crossed out on this monument soon enough. There are no police here, and all it took was one simple math equation to broil your brain in a nice, steamy, bone cocoon. Shame, but it was certainly not Sketch's job to check people from throwing away their lives.

    «Draigo»
    Player-Killed by Macradon.

    There it was, the name he heard earlier. The potential adventurer turned a sideways glance toward the man beside him.

    'A killer...'

    "F---," Sketch swore involuntarily. The tension of a fight or flight response coiled down his spine and turned his stomach into a rock. His hand lingered low as if he'd anticipated needing to defend his life, but it quickly relaxed. He took a step back and looked puzzled.

    'Killers can't be in safe zones... Was it a duel like the ones in the streets? Can't be, some of these deaths say from dueling. It was murder. How?'

    "Jesus, you're just like those guys." Sketch commented in referenced to the military veterans he remembered hanging out with during airsoft mil-sims. Sketch shook off the goosebumps from the adrenaline. "I'm sorry."

    An apology was all he felt was appropriate. He lacked the details and did not hold the prestige to inquire. In fact, the apology could have been directed to any of the other players gathered. Between his outburst and the other guy's insensitivity, it all defiled the purpose of the monument. This is what awaited him outside the city walls and it was ugly.

    @Macradon@Alkor@Krysta@Freyd@Recon

  6. Sketch felt the tap on his shoulder. His muscles tensed and head snapped over his shoulder.

    'The heck?'There was nothing. He snapped his head to the other side, remembering that old fashioned trick of misdirection used in High School and back at the office in the real world.

    'Nothing? Am I losing it?' He checked the other side and actually spun around. It wasn't until the color of pink slipped low into his periphery and his head adjusted to the difference in height.

    There she spoke, the culprit, covered in ice creel and smiling. Sketch looked up beyond her, over her, and nearby.

    'Where is this kid's parents?' With a raise of his brows and shake of his head, the green eyes snapped right back down to this newcomer.

    "Tank you say?" A chuckle bubbled up from within despite the urge not to. "Uh... are you offering to escort me?"

    @Zajcica

  7. Spoiler

    Level 1
    HP: 20/20
    EN: 2/2
    Gear:
    Karambit: (Starter) [1ACC][1DMG]
    Battle Ready:
    3 Starter Potions (50 HP)
    -
    -
    -
    -

    Sketch left the artificer's shop and the worn, wooden door slammed shut behind him as if the old man himself pushed a sense of urgency to the task.

    'Five materials,' Sketch mentally repeated. He pulled up his UI and flipped through his menu to produce the Player's Guide. As he poured over its contents, he threw the tip of his thumb between his teeth for a nibble.

    "Materials... Materials... Materials..." he mumbled to the raised brow of higher level players walking by. He came across several notes about the mechanics for material gathering. It broke it down into a few groups between just searching the area for usable material, killing critters, or stumbling upon a chest of sorts. The latter sounded like it were the more difficult of the three. He popped the book back into inventory and flipped to his equipment. As he stared at the lack there of, he let out a sigh.

    "Combat doesn't seem like a smart idea either..." Sketch dismissed the windows with a wave and huffed. His head of wavy brown hair turned toward the grand archway leading to the fields.

    "Good a time as any." And he began for the exit.

  8. When Sketch met the guy in person he was shocked to see the fellow from a while back. Despite his choice of humor, Sketch recognized him to have more under the layers than jokes. He thanked the guy who was surprisingly humble about the exchange. To both thank him and apologize for his brash judgement back in the day, Sketch dumped over all the savings he had.

    'Can always get more,' he thought to himself.

    With a two finger salute, he parted ways with the familiar stranger and checked off a few things from his To-Do list.

    Spoiler

    Sent 2,500 col and 10 T1 Mats

     

  9. From the back of the tavern came a bubbly girl with pink hair and a plate of baked goods. She reached over him to place the sweets on the table and began to introduce herself. He couldn't help but turn a sideways eye at her, then glance down at the blueberry cake she felt so proud to share.

    "I'm good," Sketch commented, pulling his elbows off the table and sitting back away from the cake. "Not much of a cake guy. Now, if we were talking pie or a tart..."

    She then ousted the little one hiding in the corner. Sketch shook his head.

    'So much for subtlety.'

    The server came around the corner and set the drinks on the table. She then walked to the girl who now emerged from the corner table and held out the tray to her. On it, a tall glass of root beer glistened with condensation and floating at the top, a scoop of ice cream. Sketch turned toward the recipient and gestured with a two finger, casual salute.

    Koga spoke more about his profession and in the process, nearly sunk a dagger into a nearby patron. Sketch rubbed at the bridge of his nose then leaned back and eyeballed the countertop. Only able to see the gent's back and the dagger now embedded into the bartop, he figured two responses: confusion or... anger. Given the man's posture, he bet for the latter. Sketch pulled his head back into the group and turned toward Koga.

    "You're all about making friends today, huh?" Sketch joked. "Sounds like you don't quite enjoy the work. Frankly, it sounds like a pain. But... it must be nice to make whatever gear you want within reason."

    Lishuu and Astralin continued on their conversation involving alchemy. Interesting idea of medicine and potion making. Sketch rubbed at his chin as he pondered what profession might suit him best. Blacksmithing sounded miserable. Alchemy sounded, well, messy. Per the Player's Handbook, Artificer caught his eye. He did enjoy tinkering and breaking things down just to put them back together again. Some things from his life prior might actually translate over to here well.

    "So, you mentioned costs. About how much was that knife trick you just pulled off? Doesn't seem like that one piece had much value." The brunette unfolded an arm from his chest and brought the pint of ale to his lips. He took a few swigs expecting the cool, refreshing taste of a beer in summer. Instead, he was met with the flavor watered down tea with bubbles. Like some kind of organic kombucha. His face soured and he pulled the glass away to stare at it with disgust. Setting it down, he turned to the server standing by Dazia.

    "On second thought, I'll take what the ladies are having."

    @Koga@Dazia@Lishuu@Astralin@Corvo@Blueberry

  10. Sketch chuckled at the notion of trying every drink. He remembered a time not too long ago where bar hopping and getting one another absolutely plastered was a good time. Alas, SAO lacked the finesse of intoxication, but the taste of a cold drink would still serve just as refreshing and nostalgic.

    "I do believe that's the talk of a potential new drinking buddy," Sketch whimsically replied with a grin.

    Breaking back to discussion, Koga flagged a server over to take orders. He chose an ale, something light. The server didn't so much as bat an eye and turned to Lishuu to take her order of a root beer. When she turned to Sketch, his brows furrowed in thought.

    "Hmm, do you have any stouts?" The sever shook her head.

    "What about a hefeweizen?" Another shake of the head.

    "Then a pint of ale it is. Oh, and could you do me a small favor?" Sketch gestured that the server get closer. No, a little closer. Yeah, that's it. He inaudibly whispered something  to her and pointed to the table in the corner that may or may not have a temporary tenant dwelling beneath it. With a nod, the server stood upright and turned her attention to Astralin.

    Lishuu urged the conversation on with the subject of professions. It wasn't quite the topic the brunette had in mind, but relevant enough. Why not try some small talk first? Sketch redirected his attention to Koga despite the lingering shadow under the table to which he monitored from the corners of his vision.

    "So, how long have you been smithing?" Sketch tilted his chair back forward and propped his elbows on the table, arms folded atop one another. "Must be pretty lucrative in a place like Aincrad."

    @Koga@Lishuu@Astralin@Dazia

  11. Spoiler

     ID# 183534 results: Battle: 9 Craft: 5 Loot: 19 MOB: 1

    Stranger detected. @Dazia

    "Well, nice to meet you Astralain," he replied.

    'So casual to flaunt the idea of her real name...' He thought. Then again, several of those too mortified to leave the real city exchanged real names in a desperate attempt to cling onto that reality which now felt like a dream to him. Sketch preferred the illusion of privacy. Maybe one day, he would confide in another.

    When they arrived, Sketch eyeballed the establishment. In his years in the Town of Beginnings, he had to admit he didn't recognize the joint. Given the size of the first city, this came as little surprise. Still, the fact it served something similar to root beer and he hadn't heard mention of it on the street was a bit of a shock. Oh well.

    He stepped inside its humble interior and sparse patrons and let the edges of his mouth form a grin.

    "Not a bad little joint," the brunette commented out loud.

    As he ventured further in, a bit of sudden movement caught his eye. Sketch continued toward one of the central tables casually, but his attention focused on his periphery. A woman, clothed in dark clothes tucked herself into the far corner where the light form the alley facing window struggled to reach. For a moment, she nearly slipped from view, but Sketch's keen senses picked up the faint outline beneath the table.

    'Hmmm...' he pondered with great interest.

    Sketch turned his back to where the girl hid and pulled a trio of chairs out from the central table, one for each of his new female acquaintances. Instead of picking the central seat, he opted for one on the end both for courtesy and the slight angle it gave him to keep this stranger in his peripheral sight.

    "I'm going to be honest," Sketch began as though nothing were amiss. "It's been some time since I've had a proper drink. I wonder if this place sells anything flavored like the a single malt islay."

    He tilted back in his chair and interlocked his hands between his head of wavy, long hair.

    "Doubt it though. Maybe on the higher floors..."

    @Lishuu @Koga @Dazia @Astralin

  12. Thankfully, his interjection did not end in rejection. Sketch nodded toward Koga.

    Thanks,” Sketch replied quickly. The two girls exchanged a few words and Sketch directed his attention to the blonde with a raised brow.

    He diverted back toward Lishuu’s excitement toward root beer. As a group, they moved to the location with Koga at the point. As they walked, the blunette elaborated more of her personal story to the blonde. They seemed to be getting along. Sketch picked up a few pieces of interesting information. Much like himself, Lishuu lacked experience outside the city walls. Given the location, it was commonplace but the tone in which she spoke it implied a sort of emptiness. An emptiness he sympathized with.

    Then, she turned her attention toward him.

    Me?” Sketch ran a hand up the back of his wavy, long hair. “Well, I know what you mean about this place. I’ve spent two years here sort of adjusting to the... ‘new normal’. The problem with normal is it gets boring, especially when all the really fine intricacies are just a shortcut away.

    Sketch adverted his eyes toward Koga’s back.

    I’m looking to break out of my comfort zone and get involved. Civilian life has run its course.

    His hand came to rest on the leather knife holster strapped to the back of his waist. A flutter of either excitement or anxiety welled in his chest at the thought. Memories of the topside played a rustic slideshow in his mind like the magic pictures of old. There were things he missed but also things he didn’t. He couldn’t help but wonder what new memories and experiences awaited out there in the thick of combat.

    Snapping out of his moment of reflection, he turned his gaze back to Lishuu. A faint smile involuntarily formed at the edge of his lips.

    Nice to meet you Lish. My tag here is SketchSkirmish. Feel free to just call me Sketch.” The brunette looked up and over Lishuu to the blonde opposite of her. “Nice to meet you too, miss...?

    @Koga @Lishuu @Astralin 

  13. The larger of the men walked right past Sketch, and his blue eyes trailed him into the distance.

    'Couldn't swallow his pride... how petty,' Sketch thought with a scowl. He turned his attention back to Lishuu and her other friend. This one, on the other hand, seemed far more in tune with the consequences of his actions. Perhaps due to defeat? Perhaps due to the weight of her words?

    Another girl joined the scene all the while Sketch watched from a small distance. By now, the cover of bystanders dispersed and left him exposed to the side of the ally. He and less than a handful now lingered. Feeling exposed, he figured now to be a good enough time as any to set back on his task to secure some armor. Which...

    'Well, I'll be damned. Looks like this guy is a smith.'

    Across the way where one of the players emerged hung a sign reading, "The Ring and Sword". The brunette rubbed at his eye with the convenience of it all, and he begrudgingly stepped forward to the collective few.

    "Hey," he greeted with a half attempted wave. "Not the best timing, but maybe you'd be willing to bear my company? I have a few questions for the smith that drinks might help with."

    He paused in the awkwardness of his interjection.

    "I have some col to buy a round or two?"

  14. Sketch continued to the exit, but the second of the two clowns blocked his path. His steps paused and the brunette sucked in a breath. Further confrontation would only make him a hypocrite. However, as though this stranger seemed to be subtly urging Sketch to stay, he picked up on the continued conversation behind him. His attention captured, Sketch turned back toward the assembled players.

    The man he learned to be named Alkor spoke to the girl most offended by the earlier display of insensitivity. In his words, Sketch heard wisdom and experience. Of all those present, Sketch felt inclined to listen more to Alkor. He felt they may have some common trains of thought. The one who blocked his path continued to the group, freeing the exit. Sketch instead chose to stay. He approached the Monument of Life once more, but at a distance. His eyes snapped to the original transgressors but then again to Alkor and the girl he seemed familiar with.

    Pain, loss, closure...’ Sketch repeated in his mind as a theme. Underneath the girl’s interesting dialect was a deep seated conflict. Someone out in the world took from her what could never be replaced. Even Sketch felt empathy for her cause. He also understood Alkor’s point.

    An eye for an eye and the whole world would be blind,’ he mentally recalled from some old saying. ‘But to claim the life of one so many would live... the choice should be simple. Would she have the fortitude to take a life? Would she be willing to live with it or has she lost the will to live?

    Sketch remembered the skirmishes he and his veteran colleagues participated in. At night, they let down some of the walls and let the pain, remorse, and horrors escape. Sometimes, they did so to escape the internal purgatory forged of their own choices. Sometimes, it was a bleeding penance. Those that bragged and boasted... well... that mindset was something Sketch failed to understand.

    While lost in thought, the clown mentioned a name at the Monument. 

    Draigo,’ Sketch mentally repeated. ‘Hmph, he’s not a clown after all. Just another tortured soul with a mask of paint and laughter to hide the mirror that sleeps deep within.

    Sketch was surprised. Despite their theatrical differences, they were still human underneath the guise. And if one thing became painfully apparent about being in the field, it was that monsters were the lesser of the evils roaming free. Other people, just like in the real world, were the darkest nightmares to fear.

    @Macradon, @Alkor, @Setsuna, @Recon

  15. Stuck in the crowd that gathered to witness bloodshed and conflict, Sketch finally was able to see the scene that blocked him from his destination to the merchant's quarter. Snide comments about bets breaking and who would have won passed by his ears as onlookers dispersed. Four figures remained central to the clearing but only one seem out of place from the others. Small in stature and of an entirely opposite gender, a blue-haired woman berated the largest of the three men. Sketch raised a brow and positioned himself to the alley's side. Fights in the Town of Beginnings were not common compared to the early days. What was their reason?

    His hand ran along his chin in thought. Some remaining players lingered nearby in conversation. Hopefully this would afford him some manner of camouflage as he listened in to get a better idea of the "why" and "who".

    "The big guy would have snapped that tall one in two. I'm telling you, that bet was good as mine..."

    "Tch, with all that reach? So long as he kept the gap, the tall one would have carved him up."

    "With all that armor?"

    The onlooker's conversation continued and Sketch began to piece together parts of the puzzle. What role did the girl play?

    As he listened, Sketch picked up on two names: Koga and Lishuu. A nickname of "Lish" was used. They were close. Sketch stifled a chuckle.

    'To think that such heated debates between players could just escalate to combat over a silly thing like stats between friends. Man, this world is changing people and not for the better...' he mused to himself. Memories of events at the Monument of Life played at the back of his mind. Mental illness born of stress must run rampant where coping mechanisms failed.

    'I wonder how messed up I'll be after being out there long enough,' he wondered.

    Completely lost in his thoughts, he paused his mission of picking up some armor for his first foray outside the city.

  16. The tension in his arm eased when the exact woman he gestured to spoke her peace. Sketch took a step back and let her articulate herself. As she berated the stranger, he raise a brow at the intricacies of her speech.

    'Who is this person?' he thought. Her words reminded him of some medieval lord or lady. Was she acting out in character? Is this just who she had become after being submerged in this reality for so long? These questions lingered behind the reminder and reality that she stood in these halls for a purpose. Someone she cared for died to this false reality.

    "I'm sorry" came the reply after a moment of pause afforded the stranger a chance to speak.

    Sketch let out the breath he held in his lungs and along with it, his frustrations. His eyes closed as he paused and let the blood in his veins cool. The sound of shattering porcelain interrupted his next words. Like something from theater, a figure Sketch swore wasn't there a moment ago, now stood to the far left of the monument. Was he behind it? Was he just hard to see in all that dark clothing?

    'Hubbub?' Sketch repeated in his mind. 'Who uses that word?'

    Given the above standard attire, both this shadowy figure and the young girl spent plenty of time in the field. Compared to her, this guy seemed... detached. Sketch recalled some of the veterans from the real world who acted this way despite suffering the atrocities of war. He could never truly understand whether the behavior resulted from numbness or defense. It also wasn't his place to pry.

    "Nothing," Sketch dismissed.

    Another figure chimed in and urged the confrontation be taken outside. There was nothing to take anywhere. Sketch eyed the offender with a degree of venom.

    "We're done," he paused. "He's sorry." Blue eyes narrowed.

    'He had better be.'

    And to some manner of comical relief or sense of entitlement, another clown joined the circus. Are people really this insensitive? Is this still some manner of game or MMO for people? Sketch shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

    Of course it would be. Survive enough confrontation and you might think you're immune. And who is not to say we don't just wake up? Those news clips we saw on day one could have been falsified. How are we to know? It could be a bluff.

    "I just..." Sketch began and ended with an exasperated sigh. "You people do as you want."

    He scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. He was done with the insanity. Sketch took his first steps toward the exit.

     

  17. Compared to the brightly lit streets, the interior of the Black Iron Palace lacked color. Shadows, silence, and an air of stagnation hung around him. Each footstep that carried him closer to the monument at the end of the hall echoed softly. Voices of nearby players remained low. Sketch wondered whether their tone was out of respect or sorrow. Perhaps both. As he neared, the intricate carvings of names became legible as well as cause of death. The sheer number of names settled like a rock at the back of his throat. Based on the rumors he heard in the streets, he knew at least two thousand names out of the ten thousand present had been scratched out. Silent, inquisitive, and with an innate respect for the dead, his cerulean eyes skimmed down the list.

    Suicide.
    Suicide.
    Suicide.
    Boar.
    Boar.
    Suicide.
    Murder...

    "How terrible..." he muttered under his breath. His stomach tightened. He expected to see the names of the players already lost, but not to see the number of suicides and more shockingly, murders.

    "This graveyard looks overcrowded. People must be dying to get in." The phrase entered Sketch's ears and without control of his actions, he snapped a scowled expression to the source.

    "What did you just say?" Echoed Sketch's heated words in the harrowed hall.

    Two long stride brought him upon the stranger.

    "This is funny to you?" Sketch nodded over to a girl with blue hair who had gently caressed the monument as she reminisced only moments ago. "Those are someone's loved ones, children, friends..."

    Sketch looked him up and down. His teeth and fists clenched.

    Take it easy... Calm down... You're being disrespectful yourself...

    "Tch," Sketch scoffed, "Show some respect."

    @Recon@Setsuna

  18. The idea of adventuring out right off the bat didn’t sit well with me after visiting the Monument of Life. The irony behind its name alone filled me with a bitter resentment to the guy that trapped everyone in here. That knowledge alone unsettled me. Seeing the names of other players responsible for other’s deaths made me even more uneasy. Here in The Town of Beginnings, the worst I needed to worry about was a non lethal brawl in the streets. So, before putting myself in harm’s way, I though it best to seek help.

    Since the beginning of this nightmare, a small stand in the middle of town existed for anyone like myself to get some pointers for free. Beta testers and players alike kept the information up to date so everyone could stand a chance. Instead of an NPC, stacks of little books with hard backs waited for anyone to grab. I snatched one up and plopped down on the cobblestone street beside it. Before cracking it open, I took a moment to check the familiar faces in the streets. Compared the the first days, very few people remained in the Town of Beginnings. Most of the faces I recognized and the players in fancier gear were largely seen as strangers. I couldn’t compare to them, not like this. Sure, they’re just gamers, but in this new reality, they were closer to gods. After all, the rules are concrete here. If your numbers were better, you could do whatever you wanted.

  19. Another morning artificially snuck through the curtains of his room at the Inn. Sketch’s eyes parted open and a familiar groan of defiance slipped past his lips. 

    Another minute...

    He rolled to his side and felt a cold chill in his hand. Through one open eye, he looked at the karambit he purchased the day prior. It was his commitment to change. Sketch wrapped his fingers around steel grip and leather sheath before he buried his head into his pillow. He groaned.

    Fine...

    Sketch sucked a deep breath through the fibers. With one last sigh of discontent, he lifted himself out of bed and tossed the sheets aside. He took his hands through his messy, long hair a few times per the ritual of “brushing” it, and knocked the majority of it away from his eyes. He maneuvered through his menus, donned his green tunic and tan slacks. With the press of a button, Sketch’s new karambit lashed to his waist behind his back. 

    Sketch felt he needed a place to anchor and set a starting point. He spent enough time living a “normal” life in Aincrad’s biggest city. This artificial vacation lasted long enough. Sketch wondered to the place many ventured for various reasons. He entered the massive halls where The Monument of Life lingered at the end of the chamber. 

    Spoiler

    Level 1 || HP: 20/20 || EN: 2/2 || DMG: 2 || ACC: 1 ||

     

  20. Hola. I'm a pretty busy person looking for a place to play casually and maybe get into some shenanigans. Hoping to write some slice of life threads until getting a few levels under the belt. Excited to see some of the updates y'all been working on.

  21. image.png.1dfaf676f49b48423d1c4a73a289b581.png

    Profile
    Username: SketchSkirmish
    Real name: Kaj Serios
    Age: 32
    Gender: Male
    Height: 6' 1"

    About: History/personality

    Kaj grew up in the suburbs of a major American metropolis. His parents were first generation American citizens. Their parents, his grandparents, were immigrants displaced by the second world war from the European area. His parents were the first to speak English fluently and understandably lacked higher education. His father worked for a seldom known shipping company and his mother took odd jobs just to keep them afloat. Kaj lived a humble life and learned to appreciate what most took for granted at a young age. His parents were stern and taught him morals, manners, and common courtesy. As he grew, Kaj developed a knack for learning. He was often the subject of scrutiny by his teachers to the point that his parents took him to get diagnosed for some manner of learning disability. It was found that Kaj tested into the top 10-5% of children his age for critical thinking, and comprehension but tested average for communicative skills. In short, Kaj held great academic potential at the cost of not being able to communicate well with others.

    As time progressed, Kaj finished high school and moved into community college to be the first generation graduate. Feeling the pressure from being bullied in school and his parents' high expectations, Kaj didn't take his education seriously. His tuition was paid for through aide programs and scholarships and it was the first thing he took for granted. Kaj graduated with sub par grades due to lack of effort and upon turning 18, moved out of his home. The boy took many jobs with well known companies in the States and within a year or two always found himself progress into management. He had several relationships that understandably deteriorated due to his struggles to communicate well. Emotions for Kaj always seemed to come in 100% or not at all.

    Later, Kaj found himself in another state from his parents. Near the end of his college career, they had divorced aggressively. He fell out of communication with them and a little brother to which he resented. His father made only one attempt at custody, but only for his brother. In his father's words, "Kaj would be too difficult to control." This and a few other sleighed comments wedged a chasm between him, his father, and his little brother. His mother tried to remain in contact with him, but the young man grew too independent.

    Prior to the SAO event, Kaj found solace in video games. He took great interest in all things electronics but refrained from becoming a full blown introvert. Kaj took up interest in military, weaponry, outdoors, survivalism, physics, and math. He became an avid outdoors-man, taught himself basic programming, and joined local veteran groups for military simulations using non-lethal weapons. Upon learning of the advances of the Nerve Gear and Sword Art Online, it was to no surprise that Kaj had to be one of the 10,000 who got the first copies. He found a connection through a forum that helped him get access to a pre-order code and on day one, logged in.


    Virtues:

    Determined: Kaj has a very strong will. Once he sets his mind on something, he becomes obsessive about it. He will think of ways to overcome any obstacle and press on even at cost of injury or exhaustion.

    Empathetic: Despite the appearance of detachment learned from years of bullying in school and general societal shortcomings, Kaj is extremely empathetic. He tends to identify strongly with the pain and suffering of others. Although he feels the world is a cesspool of ignorance and entitlement, he still harbors the deep seated feeling that everyone deserves a chance and he wants to be able to help them get it.

    Intelligent: Kaj is a cut above the rest when it comes to learning and critical thinking. He falls short on what some may consider "street smarts". However, his mind is always running scenarios, thinking of new angles, and imagining alternative routes to the tasks he sets himself upon.

    Flaws:
    Reckless: Kaj can be a bit reckless at times. If he is not loafing around somewhere or absorbed in some project, he can be spurn into action without planning. Kaj has emotional vices that send him into chaos unprepared. Part of him enjoys this, and the scars on his body resent it.

    Procrastination: Kaj tends to put things off. Unless it is of interest to him, he drifts away into other things more deserving of his attention. While the world may be ablaze and he knows a few ways to help it, a little self maintenance could become a higher priority. We all know how distracting those side quests are in RPGs... Who has even finished the main story of Skyrim? Come on.

    Anger: Kaj has been through some really low lows. He has seen loss, been depressed, felt despair, and been told to suppress it all. This suppression has lead to a cold exterior and the appearance of calm as the storm brews beneath. The only one emotion that shouts above the rest lately is anger. Kaj is easily irritated and sometimes to the point of reckless response. Having wounded people in the past, his traditional response to stressors is to completely cut all ties. It leads to a lonely life, but one with far less regrets for the damage caused.

    Profession: (Leave blank until the Earning a Living quest has been completed.)

    Skills: 5SP / 5SP (0 SP Used)
    Non-combat:
    »

    Passive:
    »

    Combat:
    »

    Weapon skills:
    »


    Inventory
    Weapons/Tools:

    Roleplays
    » [solo/private/open] LinkedTitle
    » [solo/private/open] LinkedTitle - in progress
    (no "in progress" means its complete; "incomplete" can mean one or the other person stopped replying for a long time)


    Relationships (optional)



    Story Thus Far (optional)

    Originally, the thought of being held captive in a game and left to die was terrifying. It only took a week before reality slipped into memory and life in SAO became an improvement over the stressors of the real world. Pressures of income and taxes relaxed, societal focus finally converged toward a common goal, unbreakable rules governed what one could and could not do... In a way, life in SAO was better than reality. On the other hand, you couldn't get drunk... However, Kaj enjoyed the taste of beer and whiskey, not so much the intoxication. Granted, it did help quell the nonstop thoughts inside his head. Until now, Kaj has played a role of casual bystander, observer, and civilian. Boredom is a true enemy, and with a recent purchase of a weapon, Kaj sets his sights to the rest this game has to offer.

×
×
  • Create New...