iris

| 05/03/22

| 04/03/22

| 28/02/22

| 25/02/22

| 16/07/21

summary.

| col: -802,500 = -(40,000 + 33,000 + 437,000 + 170,000 + 170,000) + (47,500)
| transaction date: 04/03/22.

disclaimer.

| 14/7/21 | total: 40,000col.

item identifications. | [link]
 | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | perfect (15)
 | TIER 3 WEAPONS | perfect (5)
 | cost: ((15+5) * 2000) = 40,000col

| 16/7/21 | total: 33,000col.

item rerolls. | [link]
 | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | (2) | 4 SLOTS
 | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | (1) | 2 SLOTS
 | cost: (15,000 * 2) + (3,000 * 1) = 33,000col

| 25/2/22 | total: 437,000col.

item identifications. | [link]
 | TIER 3 WEAPON | perfect (10)
 | cost: (10 * 2000) = 20,000col

item rerolls. | [link]
 | TIER 3 WEAPON | (15) | 4 SLOTS
 | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | (12) | 4 SLOTS
 | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | (1) | 2 SLOTS
 | cost: (15,000 * [15+12]) + (12,000 * 1) = 417,000col

| 28/2/22 | total: 170,000col.

item identifications. | [link]
 | TIER 3 WEAPON | perfect (10)
 | cost: (10 * 2000) = 20,000col

item rerolls. | [link]
 | TIER 3 WEAPON | (10) | 4 SLOTS
 | cost: (15,000 * 10) = 150,000col

| 4/3/22 | total: 170,000col.

item identifications. | [link]
 | TIER 3 WEAPON | perfect (10)
 | cost: (10 * 2000) = 20,000col

item rerolls. | [link]
 | TIER 3 WEAPON | (10) | 4 SLOTS
 | cost: (15,000 * 10) = 150,000col

item evaluations.

[link] | 14/7/21 | evaluating [TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR] (x1)

stitches. | [#191865a] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | HOLY BLESSING, LIGHT MOMENTUM II
[desc.]: a white poncho made out of thick fabric. parts of it are fraying, worn.

[link] | 25/2/22 | evaluating [TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR] (x2), [TIER 3 CLAWS] (x1), [TIER 3 DAGGER] (x1), [TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD] (x2)

noelle. | [#191848a] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | LD, RISKY, ANTIFREEZE
[desc.]: almost ceremonial. has a heavy weight to it. engraved on its hood is a pair of deer antlers.

unstoppable. | [#191844b] | TIER 3 CLOTH ARMOR | RISKY II, PARA IMMUNE
[desc.]: a set of black fingerless gloves. for those to dare face the world with bloodied hands.

majesty. | [#194561c] | TIER 3 CLAWS | ABS ACC, DMG II
[desc.]: the remains of a long forgotten and distant dimension, slate polished clean for wrought over a new world.

cerberus. | [#194555] | TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD | BLEED, PARALYZE, BURN
[desc.]: to strike. to maim. to ashes. a sword with more bite than it barks.

neglect. | [#194540a] | TIER 3 DAGGER | FREEZE, BLEED, TAUNT
[desc.]: a dagger coated in rust and frost. it looks like a relic. you can't help looking at it.

activity. | [#194540b] | TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD | TAUNT, KEEN, STATIC
[desc.]: a blade enclosed in glass. glows faintly sometimes. locked away for its own good.

[link] | 28/2/22 | evaluating [TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD] (x1)

thunderedge. | [#191865a] | TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD | STATIC, PRLYZ II
[desc.]: leaves a trail of electricity in its swing. pray, as the user, you do not meet the sword's ill will.

[link] | 04/03/22 | evaluating [TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD] (x2), [TIER 3 CLAWS] (x2), [TIER 3 POLEARM] (x1)

siphon. | [#191840] | TIER 3 CLAWS | DMG II, VAMP-O
[desc.]: fangs fashioned in gothic style. ivory nails, ebony coat.

shiver. | [#193314c] | TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD | ACC II, FROSTBITE
[desc.]: a sword made of ice that never melts. uneases the nerves with a single draw.

imp. | [#193310a] | TIER 3 STRAIGHT SWORD | KEEN II, FLN
[desc.]: an eager longsword. though the blade's steel is sharp, its handle was also made in discomfort.

predator. | [#193297] | TIER 3 CLAWS | BLD, PRYLZ, VAMP-O
[desc.]: teeth that spill as much as they shred. abiding by the rules of nature.

Síonnách Geímhrídh | [#193314b] | TIER 3 POLEARM | FREEZE, PRLYZ, FROSTBITE
[desc.]: Standing at nearly 120 cm in length from tip to tip, this short spear contains a metallic-appearing shaft of shifting dark and light violet, twirling in a mesmerising pattern. The blade - connected by a metal collar of a blackness similar to a void - glints with an ice blue colouring, a shift of light violet visible in the surface at the right angle. Twin wrapped lengths of cord - a combination of ice blue and dark violet - hang from the metal collar, intertwining in a mesmerising pattern when in movement.

junksales.

iris' junksales.
| col: +47,500col

| 14/07/21

thread summary.

[total]

+ 700xp
+ 400col
+ hermes' scale | cd tool

What good was creation if not for the people it served? An artist and its viewer. A developer and their players. Her, and the people that loved her. Experience, emotions, enthusiasm. All of it served herself, but--

"Without people, doubtless we'd be nothing but a single speck in the universe. And… how could I abandon one star over the other that way?"

That slyness was restored to her image when she met eyes with Hermes yet again, and with him still silent, Iris spoke. "The Hive encompasses all the stars in this galaxy," she clarified. "And the next. And the ones after that. So long as there are observers to it."

"Because it isn't just about the stars."

Something flickered in her eyes after that.

Hermes, intrigued, lost and impassioned about the woman's reasoning turned to the darkness just as she'd raised her head once again, glowing brighter than ever at her new creation. For a few seconds, he pouted, comprehending, studying the results of his experiment.

Finally, he too settled his eyes upon a star.

"The Hive," he repeated, sliver of a smile gracing his lips. "Sure. I think I like that. It... has a good story."

Iris had counted his mentions. It was the third time he'd said its name since the constellation's creation.

From their held positions by her front, she raised her hands, stretching them out towards the night sky. Head held high, she greeted space with a grin, smugness and regality radiating off the movements of her figure.

"I call it 'The Hive'."

She wasn't able to see it, but she could feel the god's presence float away, voice taken aback.

"The--" A pause. "The Hive?"

"Or 'The Bees', if you'd prefer."

Iris looked back at the god, red eyes blinking with conviction and joy. She nodded in delight, recognizing his delirious confusion, before returning her attention to The Hive, white glimmers still caught in her eyes.

It was in the moments after that Hermes took his recovery, and then pushed the words out of him in a croak. "The Hive," he reiterated, questioningly, shifting closer to Iris' side.

"The stars reminded me of people," she returned, impassioned by his closing. "Of friends, and of family. Of fans and followers alike."

It wasn't so much the gesture itself. Her mind simply struggled to follow the instructions offered to her, bouncing between the varied dots, stunned and left in awe of their majesty. Empty. Blank. They were the conclusions she came to looking up at the lights.

In lieu of her patron overseer's words, she counted them. Silent, slow. Bit by bit by bit.

She remembered a time when she'd known so many faces, seen so many people. A wave of familiarity swelled in her at that recognition in the vast darkness. Pride lighting up at her recollection, their interest. The chatter. Their eyes.

An audience.

(Her heart felt full at the thought of seeing them again.)

Iris hummed, corners of her mouth turning upwards into a smile. "I think I know of a good one, Hermes."

His expression betrayed no change in his emotion, though his gaze did turn to the player's. "Do tell?"

The duo continued watching the dark, quiet, as a handful of lights grew brighter and then darker; pulsating, like slow beating hearts.

"Iris," Hermes judged. "Your challenge for today is simple. Draw me a constellation from this myriad, this stretch of black and white."

And as the woman's pupils searched the abyss, Hermes raised a hand, fingers matched together. "Ah. Don't bother looking for the ones you know, new or old."

It was at his warning that the god's perspective dawned on the player.

"This isn't any sky that you, nor I, nor anyone else in Aincrad has ever known."

A canvas, speckled, made entirely for her.

Any other would be so lucky to have such a feat drawn for them, by mortal hands; to shift the heavens that a personal galaxy would mirror in their eyes. Yet, while she knew the benevolence bestowed upon her was in good faith--

-- a part of her couldn't help but feel uncertain.

With two claps, the world was sent askew. And though Iris hadn't shifted, hadn't slid off the face of the rotating earth, vertigo kicked in for the delicate player, and invisible forces held tight to her to stay steady, still. She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the sky was awash with sequins.

"I'm only lucky you're my singular challenger for today--"

Hermes expressed his exhaustion with a lay on his back, arms tucked behind his head, dark eyes reflecting the depths sparkling above. Iris couldn't help but turn to look, too; first at the god before the darkness. Night had befallen the floor of the seventeenth, it seemed, though in truth, the player herself could spot a new condition in her status bar.

"Do you know what your ancestors once used to do, looking up at the stars? They mapped them out, as best they could observe the celestial world. And then they forged connections. Told stories through them."

The player thought about it for a moment; reticent, diminutive. "I suppose I have to," she concluded, finger once drawn to her lips in thought now pulled away to a clasp of her hands. "As the quest orchestrator is standing -- well, floating right beside me, it would be foolish of me to say otherwise."

Hermes hummed with a roll of his head, gaze fixed on the woman's form. He was quiet for a pause, mouth agape. And as the two exchanged glances, Iris could start to feel a cool chill running down her neck. But--

"No," the god responded, "Not if you choose it so."

Her throat felt dry. "How do you figure...?"

Iris watched him rise, twisting mid-air, from a stretched pose to folded legs, palms set on the top of his bent knees. The messenger took a breath, deep, corners of his mouth pushing a genuine and relaxed grin. "I think I've got it now," he muttered, putting his hands together by his shoulder.

In place of indefinite starlight, tiny squares and diamonds rose up into the sky, pixels more than voxels.

Iris stayed silent watching them, watching their once-existence pass her by.

The god spoke once more, turning forwards on their merry stroll. "So you see, connections like these are formed within the blink of an eye." A finger to his temple, the god resting on his elbow. "Conscious and unconscious. You never would've started without the help from my prompt, would you?"

Narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a thin line. Iris nodded, solemn, as Hermes continued with his speech. "Bet that's what it must be like for you," he mused, "but I can't always be there to give you the answers. Even if I could..." A shrug with a crooked smile. "Well, we all know Zeus wouldn't let me leave my post!"

"Tell me, Iris. Do you think it coincidental that these elements come in patterns?"

"You know," Hermes began, eyes set on the horizon, "You humans are pattern-seeking animals."

The fields by them shifted from grassy plains to wheat-ridden stretches of gold. A low cobblestone wall bordered their path, as though to protect the travelers than to prevent their passage over it. In the distance, Iris could spot creatures grazing in the vast beyond; bull, sheep, horses. Hermes followed her gaze as it wandered, and made a noise as his head stopped turning, gesturing to them with two fingers. "Did you count them, lass?"

An immediate response. The numbers were drawn in her head: two, five, six respectively. That figure was familiar, wasn't it? One of the powers of two, in this digital game; someone could draw the association that it signified a byte of storage; 8-bits, 256 values in total--

With a snap of his fingers, the creatures went up in fractals. Their shattering came as a surprise to the player, who jolted backwards at the act, until Hermes chuckled, ushering her to look closer.

"Really, now?"

A kick of his heels backwards, Hermes beginning to float off the ground again, this time laying on his front, elbows propped up, hands laid underneath his chin, one above the other. He laughed again. "You make it sound more like you need to see stars in place of enhancements. All things considered, viable, but--" He bowed his head, waving his hands with a bend of his wrist, a glimmer in his eyes. "-- if you'd wanted a knockout, I'd rather Ares be the one to do it in place of me."

Iris rolled her eyes, a smile starting to form. "You know what I mean."

"Indeed, indeed." The man's chin settled back on a fold. "I could guess close to how it functions, at the very least. But let us start from there. Come, walk with me."

Iris watched the man flounder in an attempt to move. Legs kicking, Hermes sailed across air forward, past the mountain of Olympus, and Iris followed along.

"So tell me about yourself. Uh--" Hermes' smile faded once he realized the folly of their conversation.

"Iris."

"Of course. Tell me about how you do it. The item identifications."

It hadn't occurred to the woman exactly which systems the god had been speaking about with regards to deviations between players. When the mechanics of the systems were put under scrutiny, that was when Iris found her eyes widening, paused for a moment, before her fingers went up to her face in thought. Hermes simply waited with crossed arms.

"... My eyes," she finally said, gaze matching the subdued brown hues of Hermes' own. "Given the windows that are brought up upon examining an item, I catch the hint of stars that signify the potential behind an item." Eyes closed, she shook her head. "Granted, that's something I need to get better at these days, with practice, but it is my perception that the others rely on."

The god's eyes were set to the sky as he continued speaking, expression wistful in blatant ignorance of Iris' growing sours. "Now, most of the pantheon would disagree with me on this, especially Dionysus, if you could believe it! But here're the facts, if I do say so myself: if he can't hold his liquor on nights before a new champion appears, then he can't serve a quality test befitting of his steads. You understand?"

His gaze finally settled back on the player, her eyes closed tight and thumb tucked underneath her fingers, clenched. Iris took a deep breath, exhaling, before matching her sights to the deity himself. "Though I am loath to admit it," she replied, "That does seem better for your end user, yes."

"Glad you catch on so quick."

Another raise of his legs, one knee higher than the other, and he glided himself downwards, landing on the earth with a clatter.

"Well." Iris huffed, still visibly distressed. "Hermes, if that truly even is you--"

Hermes closed his eyes with a comforted smile. "--It is."

"-- then I assume that you have a special sort of task for me regarding the completion of your quest."

"Hmm?" The man resumed alertness, blinking himself awake, amused. "Oh. Well, I suppose I have to, don't I?"

"Um?"

He groaned, pulling his legs back underneath him, arms slow in being brought to his side. He stood upright, stable, feet a shoulder's width apart. A proud grin failed to respect the words that spilled next from his mouth. "I don't usually come to these prepared, if you haven't noticed."

Iris' expression fell instantly to horror.

"You lot of players don't come to me standardized, you see." Hermes gestured with a palm upturned as he spoke. "So it's easier if I catered to each of you directly instead, after meeting you face to face."

"Hardly believable," Iris countered, but stopped herself from further comments at the yellow cursor spiraling above the man. There was a light frown on her image when she looked back to the man, arms folding. "Do you treat all who take up your challenge this way? Really, it's unbecoming--"

"--Of a deity?"

With a jump, Hermes caught a strand of passing breeze, wind carrying him aloft just a few feet above the dirt ground. He settled into a diagonal position, upright, floating, as though lounging on an invisible chair. His aptitude for the impossible only put a smirk back on his image as Iris was found to be agape, stunned, arms loosening from their tight wrap.

"I get that a lot," the god admitted, "But you're one of the few players who's ever actually cut that sort of gib with me." He chuckled, resting his cheek on his knuckles. "It's honestly impressive."

A short breath was taken before her exclamation. "Put me down--!!"

And strangely enough, Hermes did comply.

"Oh! Sorry. Mind was racing too fast. Did I forget the introductions again?"

The world spun in earthy colours just as Iris found her footing. Hermes was unassuming; tall chiseled man, tanned skin, with a standard garb matching the other citizens of the main settlement. Dark, trimmed hair and wings adorned by his sandals and a bronze hat, perhaps if someone had observed him for too long, too hard, they would've distinguished him as 'special' from the crowd of other civilians.

The god dusted off his palms with a grin, the duo in the middle of a crossroads. Iris patted her dressage down with a pout, thunder in her chest as her gaze went from dirt to the man's unusual smile. What kidnapper would be satisfied with letting their quarry go?

"It was an accident," he protested, now visibly alarmed with a widening of eyes, fists set to his waist. "I swear."

| Floor 17

It was Hermes who'd caught sight of her first, stole her away from the city streets. Good thing that Iris had come alone, then; had Jean been present, perhaps there might've been a fight or a skirmish that the god had to put up with before the appraiser could have gone on her quest. But, for what luck the deity had, wind at his side, perhaps there was reason why his players should've been wary.

He'd appeared without even a warning once Iris had stepped off the teleporter platform. So it made sense that she started to struggle out of shock once the messenger had wrapped an arm around her waist, tucked her under his shoulder and bolted off into the sunset.

Iris had her fair share of personal regrets that day, like not giving Fiero enough care before leaving home on the solo expedition. Getting kidnapped was not one of the many she'd expected to experience.

And then--

"Who's this Hermes guy?"

If Sword Art Online had a spam mail section, this was where that message would've been sent to, Iris believed. "I don't know," the woman returned. "I thought it might've been a player misdelivering a message. Or Cardinal messing things up again."

It wasn't as though those things hadn't happened before. Jean sighed, pulling herself backwards, Fiero on her lap seemed to reposition himself, trying to get comfortable, laying himself belly downwards just as his most favourite blonde had seemed to do so.

The contents of the message were simple; a quick meet up someplace on the seventeenth, as Jean had speculated. But the way it was written...

When Jean examined the message again, watching Iris balk and shoot her a sour look, she too bittered at its description.

"Never mind," the warrior muttered darkly, just as Iris' ego was restored, proven right. "I trust your prior judgement. That reads entirely like some rando on Tinder might've."

"Oh," Iris glowed, at her friend's mention of the ancient product reference. "Have you been on it yourself now?"

Jean rolled her eyes, busying her fingers with combing Fiero's fur once again. 

"Need me to walk you over? They did mention you getting an escort, but..."

"The system rules it to be fine going alone," Iris reasoned, rereading the lines of her mail once again. "So I should be alright. But thank you for your offer."

"Mm."

"They've got this new mission for you," Jean explained, as the two watched the cat bat lightly at the air. "It's supposed to have been unlocked at Rank 2, I believe. Every crafter gets the invitation from a god or something on Floor 17."

"An invitation?"

"Check your inbox."

Since when did Cardinal send quest invitations via mail? Perhaps it had been a sort of secret amongst the crafters of their guild, in the past; that, or the message was embarrassing enough for everyone to have shut up about it. She reviewed her letters, but found nothing of interest in the pile.

Iris looked back up at Jean quizzically. An exchange of gestures; Iris' shaking her hand from her wrist, and Jean circling her index in midair lead to the latter examining the mail window once it'd been turned around. The quick skim was telling, as Jean leaned forward; nothing did appear out of place to the player's notice, either.