fauxkiller

Faux silently agrees with Star not to press that subject. Although, he could see the reflection of something more in Raidou’s eyes upon mention of his former position. It’s impressive, nonetheless, to be traveling with someone who had fought on the frontlines. While Faux was interested in toughening up, he still had absolutely no interest in fighting at the front. No life is guaranteed up there. Maybe Faux did understand Raidou better than he knew. And then a proposition to ride horses. Faux turns his head to hide his cheeks warming. The only time he rode a horse in this game

While Faux was certainly interested in maintaining his best appearance, he had never been a major sneakerhead. It wasn't surprising that Aincrad would contain some level of modern fashion influence for cosmetic items, but when he read about the Thin Ice armor in the bulletin, it felt a little too good to be true. In fact, he didn’t perceive them to be junk at all. Taking misty steps of crisp, dry ice just felt correct for the synthetic-haired boy. However, his curiosity hadn't peaked until he read the moniker of the player who had posted the flyer: night. In his attempts at j

"I currently do not, I am sure I can have something commissioned but not on such short notice." That's unfortunate. "Sorry, I've got no armor to offer either." A double whammy. Faux sighs at this revelation, but it was always a possibility that he suffer an unfortunate swiping out here. It's a shame he would make it so easy for those beasts. He shrugs this off. The newly red Raidou begins marking the map. Supposedly, the hoard should be managable. Faux tries to subtly glance over at Star as their party member details the valley's spawns. Something about the golden man poked at

The man of metal and blonde extends his arm out, holding a crystal for the weaker player. Faux takes it immediately. He nods thankfully at him and makes sure to take note of his gamertag: Morningstar. “Thank you…” Faux trails off as if he’s searching for a name. “What should I call you? Star?” These men seem friendly, and honest. They both are quick to accept his request, and this makes Faux hopeful that the men feel confident in their abilities. He had heard of the treachery that awaited them in the valley; but if he didn’t, the genuine concern these two share hung thickly in the air. Faux wa

"Something wrong?" Faux lifts his head to meet the gaze of another young man around his own age, staring at him with a bit of conern on his face. No, sympathy? Faux moves away slightly from his touch, furrowing his eyebrows. "Nothing is wrong, no. Thanks," he states plainly, not in the mood to be distracted. He instead decides to look past the plain man and observe his surroundings. Faux couldn't see anyone else looking around like a lost child, so he returned his attention to the man who was still standing there. "Well, I suppose if you aren't busy, I actually--"

"I'm impressed," Zackariah says. There's a tone of pride in his voice, as if he's a father celebrating a worthy child. Faux can't help but feel a little touched by his kindness. If only every parent were this way. "You did a fantastic job, kid," he declares. "That's all I have to teach you for now, but please accept these rewards for gathering me the materials!" A window pops up to show Faux the exp and col he gained from completing the quest. He feels like he's forgetting something. It's itching at his brain, and Zackariah is still standing awkwardly in front of him as if there should be some

Faux was grateful for the drop in temperature. And he was grateful to have made it back to the Town of Beginnings in one piece. He would certainly have to find armor as soon as possible if he wanted to survive on the outside of these walls. He won’t always be so lucky in the wild, and one simple mistake could cost him his life. He contemplates all of this as he returns to the front of Zackariah’s shop. Somehow, through the windows and the feint sound of rummaging inside, he could tell that Zackariah was still hard at work inside. “It’s my time,” he says out loud, but hesitates to open the door

Finally, just as the sun is beginning to set, the colors of the sky are turning from blues and greens to purples, reds, and yellows. Faux is mentally exhausted from the amount of introspection. He still isn’t sure if he’s reached a conclusion on what his destiny in this game will be. What he knows is he is still filled with determination to understand this world. And he knows now that he wants to contribute to the fight. Back in the real world, Faux led an almost pacifistic lifestyle, seeking only to nurture the grande collective knowledge. But here, he knows that he must fight to truly be a p

He would no longer be restrained by the confines of fear, here. Many humans back in the real world waiting for the players of this game to return home already believe he’s a star. Faux has to allow these people to inspire him in this moment. He wonders if any of his old fans ever wonder where he is. Would they even know that he’s one of the citizens of Aincrad at this very moment? Perhaps not. The only people who know where he lives in the real world are his parents; and, he wasn’t sure whether or not they would move his body. But, the fact that he hasn’t died yet inspires Faux in this moment.

There wasn’t much time until the sun would set and Faux knew he should be focusing. Sometimes he really has to pull himself back into reality, and out of his own head. It woud certainly help if he had a companion. Even those two NPC, who have no other purpose than to guide new players in an inconspicuous way, have one another. ‘It’s simply not natural for us to walk alone, huh?’ It’s too bad MMOs frequently fall in the trap of majority of players solo’ing their way through the game and not really engaging any of the social aspects. Apart from that, this culture sometimes breeds the nasties of

Faux is back near the NPCs that are speaking loudly about safety in the prairie, and how to handle a wild boar attack. Faux frowns, this time walking up to the aloof duo and interrupting their tedious conversation. “You know, if you’re going to talk so loudly about boar hunting, you could at least include some important facts. For example, watch out for boars that graze in bushes; or, don’t wander too far out without a companion,” Faux schools them. Their smiles fade slightly as they recognize that Faux is teasing them. But then they just as quickly return. “Thanks for the friendly tip, player

Faux jogged and jogged and then sprinted far away from where the boars were continuously spawning around him. Once he had gotten further sway from the cliffside, and more inland towards the Town of Beginnings, he dropped his hands to his knees to catch his breath (he knows it’s counterproductive, he doesn’t care right now). As he heaves and huffs, he starts to feel a giggle tickling his insides. And then that giggle turns into chuckling, and then into full laughter. He laughs and laughs and laughs until his eyes and stomach are sore, tears streaming down his face. What an incredible feeling. T

Just as he picks the berries from the bush, he hears a loud snort from behind him. He reacts just quick enough to avoid the wild boar that was charging at him from behind. He lunges to the left, just barely avoiding its horns. It slams itself into the bush that Faux had pulled from and gets tangled temporarily in its vines and thorns. It squeals out in pain, and Faux frowns. “You could have killed me. Idiot,” Faux scoffs. He continues on with his journey, forgetting that patch of materials entirely. As he looked around, he realized that this must be a popular spawn area. A player must have com

Sneaking past the boars and mama boars is becoming light work for Faux. He’s starting to feel more relaxed walking around out here on his own. He’s reaffirming the idea that fears might simply be motivated by the terror instilled by the unknown. For him, certainly, that which is unknown is far more difficult to swallow than something horrible in the light of day. This philosophy of Faux’s is probably the reason he sees no malice in the invention of this world. While the parameters of the game are surprising and cruel, the world itself is decorated in vivid life of so many for

It was time for another break. Faux pulls a woven blanket from his inventory and hurls it out over the greenest patch of land he could find. He can oversee the cliffs now, and the beautiful waterfalls that float downward from the impossibly suspended islands. So much beauty. He pulls a sweet bun from his inventory and begins snacking on it. Large, almost prehistoric-looking beasts soar through the sky. It looked like the sun would set soon. He wondered for a moment if the spawns would become more dangerous at night. Either way, it would be best to wrap this up sooner than later. After enjoying

Faux slips into these modes of contemplation quite often. He had become accustom to it, spending so much time in solitude. Who else to console besides himself? He would find himself self-analyzing and self-critiquing over and over until there was nothing more to ponder other than existence itself. Faux didn’t even smoke marijuana in the real world, or ingest any illicit drug for that matter. Still, he questioned everything. He thinks back to when he visited London for an episode of his show. That was the first time he had left his home continent. He remembers understanding, then, that the worl

Faux attempts to pick a few more flowers, this time unsuccessfully again. It doesn’t frustrate him this time, though. He suddenly feels quite distant from anger all together. Rather, he feels a deep connection to his surroundings. He watches the nearby boar rise from its digital slumber and begin wandering lazily around the field. It wanders with such carefree ambition, not a real interest inhabiting its head. Not a single consideration, other than to tackle anything in its path. And yet, from a distance, Faux watches it simulate a personality. Watches it attempt to fit into is background— int

CONQUERING STONE & UNJUSTIFIED CONDUCT While it wasn’t completely unknown to Faux how to request help in this world, it was something he almost never felt necessary in the past. Asking questions of other players would sometimes almost guarantee a level of misinformation that NPCs simply do not offer. But it would be impossible to say the past few months haven’t felt a bit lonely. It seems players are mainly interested in leveling and escaping the game, and while documenting the experiences of the people here intrigues some, others have no interest in giving up their

Content with the success of the last pull, Faux immediately reaches for the next flower. He plucks it and… yet another success! He chuckles at this, feeling satisfied at having gotten into a rhythm. “Things are rarely as difficult as we make them,” Faux says aloud to himself, repeating the scolding words of his mother. She would say this often, when Faux was unable to complete a homework assignment or when he would find it impossible to sit still in class. How Faux had wished it was easy for him. As easy as picking these flowers. The flower dissipates in a flash and again, materials added to h

If at first we don’t succeed, we huff violently around a mythological plain until we stumble across some more flowers. The egg shell and beige colors of his hair twisted and flopped around as he mumbled frustratedly to himself through the field. Maybe Faux wasn’t following the phrase exactly, but he did eventually come to a small gathering of vines and colorful fauna in his tantrum. A boar laid in the grass, asleep, a few feet away. Faux would watch it closely as he approached. He regains his composure and kneels to take in a whiff of the floral aroma. Nothing in the real world smells quite as

Faux decides to study the floor, now. As he walks he’s careful to stay away from the far edges, scanning for anything that looks noteworthy or has a particular gleam. But of course, now the path seems clear as day. He sighs, opening up his inventory and pulling out his journal again. Being a low level player meant walking this distance felt like a true heave. Yet another unexpected experience of this simulation— fatigue. It’s a subtle feeling, apart from loss of energy. Faux found it difficult to put into words as he sat to sketch the prairie and the feelings he was having in the moment. At le

Faux bends over to graze his fingers over some tall blades of dry grass tossing lifelessly in the wind. It seems he had entered the cliffside plains. There were boars jogging around aimlessly, tossing their tusks into the air to fend off angry bugs. There were a couple NPC’s standing to the side of the trail, speaking obvious beginner tips loudly into the air about how to avoid being trampled by boars. Although Faux has always been unimpressed with beginner mobs in MMOs, he knew he still had to make sure to keep his distance. Without armor, it would be silly to attempt to engage one of them. ‘

Faux had rarely traveled outside safe zones. When he did in the past, it was with an escort and simply for the purpose of watching them battle. Faux wasn’t above letting flirtatious men show him around either. He figured if higher level players were willing to guide him, it would be a missed opportunity to say no. Besides, he would have that pleasure when they invite him to a guild or to their house afterwards. As he arrives at the city limits, Faux takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes. He lets the heat warm his skin, coloring it a deeper cafe. And then he exhales. No bett

As he made his way to Zackariah’s shop, Faux contemplated what it is he wanted from this world exactly. Before, when it was simply a game, it felt as if it were the future of existence being unveiled before his eyes; and, that he could study, compare, come and go as he pleases. He would become an expert purveyor of sorts. But now, when he has been so violently forced into existing here, it feels as if his original plan was just more of the same. ‘Am I really living in this world if I’m only procuring a means of survival? Will I always simply be an information broker? Will I allow this pursuit

The mayor’s name is Dorian White, and Faux has had to reject him many times on his way to something more interesting. This time, he felt he might make a new decision. Mayor White looks exhausted, per usual. “You there! Please!” He huffs out. The perpetual panic this man is in must be exhausting. Faux almost feels bad for him. “Pardon me, but I’m in need of assistance, and you appear quite capable.” Faux rolls his eyes and the mayor swallows thickly. Faux wonders how he looks capable in any way. Other than bearing a horizontally sheathed saber on his back, he doesn’t have much