[F01-SP] Just Another Day <<Earning A Living: Alchemist>>

[Bistro 0]

It had been months since they were all trapped, stuck fighting for their lives in an iron castle locked in the sky. 

Life went on. Businesses were started, institutions set. Guilds rose, and fell. Parties formed. The human spirit found itself once again active and indomitable, after the initial shock from the news that befell them, and the mass of tragedies that trickled in afterwards. Most players slipped back into a routine, a stable comfort remnant of their own lives from reality -- waking up, heading out, dedicating themselves to a grind before heading back, all the while holding onto hopes of a better, brighter tomorrow.

Consistent. A surge of that optimistic start came again in another wave, another form, when grand news came out to most of the public. Professions started to trend then, from that day onward, the proudly restructured industry finding itself booming with activity. It had put a strain on the store of materials any hunter-gatherer person had once cached away, but that vacuum only invited more players previously held up in stasis to join the ranks of the adventurers. In lieu of the news that all players, even the ones who’d scurried themselves away since the start of the death game, could become a contributing member in aiding army that would fight for them, a once forgotten hope was renewed, along with a subtle comforting relief that gradually overcame the tense atmosphere that was once washed over the Town of Beginnings.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances that all players found themselves in, today, one could take a walk through the city on the first floor and net an unmistakable perception about its surroundings -- a jovial atmosphere continued to persist in it, its residents cheery and lively, wandering about the streets in a bustle.

It was as though the war against life and death had not been thrust upon them in the first place. And perhaps, Bistro thought, as she trekked out of town with a half-eaten hot dog in hand, that optimistic disposition was for the best.

Spoiler

Lv: 4 | BISTRO | HP: 80/80 | EN: 8/8 | ACC: 0 | DMG: 0 | EVA: 0 | MIT: 0 | LD: 8 (5, +3)

>> Equipment

1. [T1E2] Golden Earring | Trinket | Expertise
2. [T1E0] Casual Clothes
3. [T1E3] Bien S'en Tirer | Jewelry | Loot Die III
   "A collection of beads, feathers and a sewn cloth charm hooked onto a leather strap. It’s colorful, yet clutterfully serene at the same time."

>> Skills

1. Searching | Passive | RANK 2/5 (1, +1)
2. - - -

>> Battle-Ready Inventory

1. [T1E3] Ultra Lucky Hot Dog x1 | +3 LD   >> - - -
2. - - -
3. - - -
4. - - -
5. - - -

>> Misc.

• - - -

[Bistro 0]

As she shuffled past the boundary between safe-zone and the wilderness, what was left of her meal for the day was a scrunched up loose piece of paper. Partially oily, unfit for further use. Bistro ripped it apart in her hands, four fingers, two for each pinch, tearing it apart with a break at its center. The item combusted in a flurry of particles, to which the woman waved them off with a flap of her hands. 

She dusted off her palms, before setting her hands back hanging on the edges of her pockets casually. There was a hill she wanted to head towards, not far from the gates of town, that she’d made part of her regular gathering routine, whenever she left the city to explore the fields. Even though a gathering of materials was much easier done in the safety of the Garden, sometimes the alchemist simply needed a change of pace. 

Out here would do. On her walk, Bistro leaned down, scooping up a small, familiar herb found lying in the grass.

Spoiler

ID: 144542 | LD: 26 (18, +8) | 1/5 Materials found.

!!! Disclaimer: Discarding roll #144543. Reason: Illegal post roll/Inaccurate post link attached.

[Bistro 0]

That makes… one.

The herb was whisked away into her inventory, alongside its partner sitting by it, another flower plucked carefully off its stem. Bistro straightened her back before shuffling forth, fuzzy slippers hitting the soft sandy road. Her gaze fell upon the grass to her sides, a swath of lush emeralds stalks that practically begged to be rifled through, hidden objects buried beneath their lofty clusters. There would be time for that, the player assured herself, raising her sights on the horizon once more.

It shifted, towards the parting between the sky and the earth on the horizon. Where there might’ve been a flat divider of green, some trees in the distance muddied that even line -- a forest on the outskirts of the beginner fields of the area. Even higher still under that all encompassing baby blue were the sparse number of cirrus clouds, a signature of the bright sunny day Bistro was going to have ahead of her. Good news, after all.

Spoiler

ID: 144544 | LD: 18 (10, +8) | 2/5 Materials found.

[Bistro 0]

She took in the fresh scent of the outdoors in the air. It must’ve rained recently, she figured. The winds that kissed her cheeks felt cooler today, and the number of boars that were scavenging about the brush were plentiful. That usually meant having to be careful for the low-leveled gatherer, but Bistro had gotten used to their patrols by now. They would pose a threat to her only if she allowed herself to drop caution.

As she reached the base of the mound she’d been looking to seek out, she wandered around its perimeter, looking for an upturned slope. A faint melody sunk back into her conscience, played on a violin, one familiar tune out of many she could recall, as her sister played on her instrument.

“How’s that feel? Does it play like how you used to back in life?”

The tune continued on, unfaltering, unwavering. Against the violin, its bow came and went, the musician's fingers and her arm the only parts of her body signifying movement.

Spoiler

ID: 144545 | LD: 10 (2, +8)

[Bistro 0]

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

The harshness of the next note ruined on purpose told her a denial otherwise. But still the violinist played. Bistro understood, giving her a nod and nothing else. She knew when her sister wanted her to be quiet, and doing so was the best thing she could offer her counterpart at the moment.

Estienne always loved her own music. 

When the musician had finished playing, she lowered the violin from her neck, advancing towards her twin with slow steps. Bistro had positioned herself atop the edge of the hill in a squat, looking out over the fields, now flooded and teeming with reinvigorated players looking to gather some well-needed materials.

“So you’ll play,” Bistro reiterated. “And I’ll be here to buff you. Sounds good, right?”

Her signature jingle of approval, on strings. The squatting player had wanted to retort, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Her sister just got reunited with the love of her life, after all. Maybe it was fair to let her go silent and play to her heart’s content. Enough, until she got tired of it.

“Okay,” came her reply. It was also best not to get into a fight now, when the two sisters each were already on thin ice with each other’s presence. “I was thinking of rolling with alchemist,” Bistro clarified. “I heard it’s got a few crafts to buff your damage and defense. That should keep you well protected, right?”

There came no other words, only notes to the piece that had just recently concluded, now rejuvenated once more for another recital. Bistro felt herself blink, squeezing her eyes shut with an exhale, before shifting her fingers, trying to keep her cool. 

‘Do whatever you want,’ her sister seemed to scream.

Bistro figured she would after all, for the better of both their sakes.

The memory faded from her mind as Bistro made her hike upwards, watching the treeline up ahead peek from behind the grassy meadow. Along her ascend, she stopped herself, plucking up one gold flower from its stalk. 

Spoiler

ID: 144546 | LD: 21 (13, +8) | 3/5 Materials found.

[Bistro 0]

There would be another to collect, as the slope evened out on the knoll, Bistro finally treading plainly on flatter land. When the player raised her head, she let her gaze settle upon the meadows. The floor now belonged to the boars, grazing about lazily upon the green, enjoying the lack of interruption from adventuring players. 

Bistro paced towards the hill’s edge, letting the gentle breeze ruffle her trimmed locks. She closed her eyes, trying to catch hold of a phantom melody on the wind, a brief wave of melancholy and worry washing over her.

It hurt to say she missed Estienne in her absence. The truth was that Bistro missed her sister’s music, that it was an anchor to the two’s daily lives, a reminder of home and what was waiting for them outside of the game. As for the twin herself...

Her guardian was more worried about what her family might think, not having taken care of their ward for them.

Spoiler

ID: 144548 | LD: 26 (18, +8) | 4/5 Materials found.

[Bistro 0]

Though, Bistro had more faith in her sister’s well being than she’d care to admit. After all, her username still remained on her friends list. And none of her clients had reported seeing Estienne’s handle on the monument either. She’d gone further in her investigation of the hidden player’s whereabouts, but having come up empty, all she could conclude was that her sister was isolating herself on purpose.

Fair enough. As long as the adventurer didn’t falter in combat, Bistro resolved that she wouldn’t stick her nose in her counterpart’s business. Estienne did value her privacy, after all.

… Right. That was enough reminiscing for the day, the alchemist figured. She had a city to return to, more herbs to gather, and elements of the game to document. The work wouldn’t sort itself out while she was away. What if one of her clients had made it to her shop while she’d wandered outside for a bit?

They would probably be in contact with her by now, come to think of it.

As Bistro turned around, ready to descend to the plains down below, a flash of light on the ground caught her attention, a bright pink flower fading into existence. Work for her, right on cue.

Spoiler

ID: 144550 | LD: 23 (15, +8) | 5/5 Materials found.

[Bistro 0]

Five materials was a good enough haul. Though, with how much she'd been crafting lately, it was better to pick up more. If only she could inch her experience count just a hair forward; she'd be in a right position to pick up fishing or gathering, both of which fit the gatherer's agenda better than rummaging the fields blindly.

Maybe she should cash in on her many favors for that. With how the adventuring player base seemed to thrive these days, it wouldn't shock her how likely one of her patrons would take her up on the offer. Though, there was always the option of just purchasing her materials from a merchant or another dedicated supplier. Those were likely the easier choices... Assuming Bistro had the col to keep herself going.

I should really just junk all those uncommons I'm sitting on... Or the damage potions. I'm sure Estienne won't mind, since she's been gone for forever.

Another sigh, and another flower to pick. Closing her fingers around its form, she let the item disappear into her inventory, before rising, treading somewhere else.

Spoiler

ID: 145618 | LD: 23 (15, +8) | Material Count: 6 (5,+1)

[Bistro 0]

Down the hill, onto the plains once more. A faint glimpse of gold caught her eye down by the sandy path, and she picked it up, slipping the blooming flower right into her pocket.

Sometimes, Bistro wondered what it would be like to be a performer. It was... regrettable, with her sister already calling dibs on the choice profession between them. Sacrifices had to be made, however, and it was better her than Estienne. Still, though, her thoughts lingered on the possibility of getting her hands on some music creating devices. An instrument was... adequate, but her skills had gotten rusty with anything other than a piano.

I wonder if launch pads would work here...?

Unlikely, considering they'd needed to be programmed first. Or at least hooked up to a certain sound bite before being processed. And how would that fare under Cardinal's rule? Surely computers couldn't be made in the simulation they found themselves in. Bistro rubbed the nape of her neck in discomfort, yearning for the familiar press of one large square button to push, before dropping to the ground, rifling through the grass yet again.

Spoiler

ID: 145754 | LD: 16 (8, +8) | Material Count: 7 (6,+1)

[Bistro 0]

Through the thicket, she grabbed hold of something a little larger than usual. A vegetable? No, a stray root? It was easier to work with the latter, come time to craft later. Bistro tugged at the object, freeing it from the underbrush, unveiling her new find -- one nice, dirt-covered brown tuber. She would make do with it back at her workshop.

It was times like those that she appreciated the thick gloves she'd invested col into. Brown, a little puffy and oversized, they were made to be beaten and worn, searching through what rough and tumble nature set before them without care. And the dirt didn't stick as easily. With a gentle dusting, the dark clumps fell back onto the roadside, leaving Bistro free to rise without trace of having searched through the muck. One stretch, arms reaching out to the sky above her, and the woman was on her way again, out into the wilderness.

Spoiler

ID: 145755 | LD: 28 (20, +8) | Material Count: 8 (7,+1)

[Bistro 0]

Where were those eggs she'd been spotting once in a while? They made for quite a nice stroll snack, if Bistro had to confess, giving her not only a tiny tidbit of sugar but also re-energizing her steps. They also served to bring a few customers to her shop when she'd gathered a handful, leaving them by her counter. However, it seemed as though they'd up and vanished a week ago, the last visitor clearing out her supply bowl entirely on the account of some event, and the informant wondered if perhaps this time she was left out of the loop of something important for this year's Easter hunt.

She could only imagine the salty tinge of caramel hitting her palette as her tongue ran over her incisors, imagining herself crunching down on its boldened exterior. The thought of the chocolate delicacy lingered in her mind as she she lowered herself to a thin tree's side, scouring its base for any signs of materials (and subsequently eggs) she could retrieve.

One herb, but no more. Oh well. Maybe that was the last she was going to see of those eggs this year.

Spoiler

ID: 146127 | LD: 16 (8, +8) | Material Count: 9 (8,+1)

[Bistro 0]

Maybe it wouldn't be so much of a gripe for the woman if she could make food. Her handle was supposed to imply cooking abilities, after all. So why hadn't she gone ahead with it?

Easy. If, perhaps, she'd ended up in Aincrad alone, she might've taken the opportunity to do so. Brush up on her cooking skills, run a cafe. But that was overdone by this point, she felt. Plus, she might need to put aside her records if she was invested in managing an eatery of her own.

There were things that had to be done. So she would take on those burdens, so that someone else might not.

One quick scan of the vicinity, but Bistro hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it was about time to take that hike back? Nine materials was adequate, she felt. Not the best, but enough to replenish her stocks for potion crafting for the day.

Spoiler

ID: 146128 | LD: 14 (6, +8) | Material Count: 9

[Bistro 0]

Turn on her heels, leave the brilliant day behind. No, there was still sunlight left ahead of her; all she was doing was making a quick return home. Hopefully this time she'd remember to pick up some food to enjoy on the way back.

There was a certain satisfaction in allowing herself to take a backseat on the journey to safety. Bistro stretched, an arm reaching down her back as her hand pressed gently on her elbow, pushing it lightly. Her head was raised, barely noticing the vast garden ahead of her, entranced by the scattered fading clusters of white up above, a lazy lacing of yellow breaching the blue on the horizon.

Maybe she should visit an artist one of these days. And then track one down in real life, if their skills managed to transfer over. It would suck to have sights like these go to waste.

The same could be said for her own work, though. What were the chances of salvaging what media they'd all forged during their time trapped in here?

Spoiler

ID: 146129 | LD: 9 (1, +8) | Material Count: 9

[Bistro 0]

Surely, in the ruins left behind in the wake of their escape, there was something still to be retrieved from the rubble.

Yeah, like if Estienne doesn't show up before the end of the game, I'll have to go hunting for her remains somewhere...

Bistro huffed, deciding to stop finding shapes in the sky, pushing down her other arm behind her back as she gave the grass ahead of her another scan. She'd nearly given up on finding the last material to round off her count for the day, when by her foot she'd brushed upon a sharp pebble. Looking downwards, the alchemist had finally found the last member of her party.

A gentle pluck, this plant a tiny, multi-branched affair that required some delicacy, especially when it came to its leaves. It vanished in a set of sparkles, its discoverer content, humming to a familiar tune as she approached the gates of town.

Spoiler

ID: 146130 | LD: 16 (8, +8) | Material Count: 10 (9, +1)

[Bistro 0]

No sooner after she'd stepped into the safe zone did she receive a notification in her messages. It was lovely, being right on time. Looks like her services were needed, after all.

Two flicks and a shuffle to the side of the street. Bistro leaned against a building wall before beginning to respond.

Aesop Hey~ You've got time, right? Bistro  Take your shot. Aesop Cool Grimms' trying to become an alchemist. Come show up? Bistro  Oh, congratulations. Why would you need my presence? Aesop  Show her how it's done? Look It's been 9 tries since we've started Bistro Ouch. Aesop  Make it 10 Grimms has no faith in the crafting table anymore. Her luck’s tragic rofl Bistro And you do? Bear in mind I can’t complete the quest for her :/ Aesop  I'll believe in you, which is a better investment in my opinion Just make something here Show her the table isn’t bugged or whatever Please? I'll owe you Again (lol) Bistro Tempting. Don't need to, on my way.

[Bistro 0]

Picking up a profession was a standard for most players. Whether or not they acted on them at all didn't matter so much; the quest was beginner friendly and free for all, so it seemed reasonable that some adventurers might pick it up just for the experience it gave them.

What was more of a surprise was seeing someone fail 10 times in a row, given that the odds of crafting an item from the beginning was a 1/4 chance. All things considered, it was more likely to succeed twice within those 10 tries than to fail all of them in one go. To that, knowing the alternative had occurred, Bistro whistled a congratulations as she entered the beginner's workshop, opening the door with a hand and pinning it to the wall.

The two other players in the store turned to look at her, both of them seated on wooden stools. "What," Bistro chimed in, releasing the door from her grasp. "Cat got your tongues?"

[Bistro 0]

"No," Aesop began, leaning forward. The player was dressed in formal, a black vest and pants, paired with a white buttoned shirt. Pastel green locks in a pixie cut, fringe uneven and short. The boy flashed his teeth as he shot Bistro a smile. "Just surprised at your entrance. Never seen you outside of your shop before."

"Oh, come now. Even NPCs have daily routines."

The alchemist dragged her sights over to the other player in the room. It was a prompt -- she knew Grimms wouldn't speak up on most other occasions unless she was personally addressed. A dark-red figure, bundled up in a cloak, its hood down, revealing its wearer's morbid face, pink hair in a bob to match. "Welcome," came her hollow, plain voice, as she fidgeted with a stone cup of warm tea, vapor still dancing visibly against the shadows of her robe. Hesitantly, she brought the drink to her lips, and Bistro watched the girl tiredly, shaking her head.

'Just get to work,' huh...?

[Bistro 0]

Fingers locked, Bistro stretched her arms and her back over the crafting table. In full frontal of the sun pouring through a window, framing their stage, she glanced over to ensure that Grimms, sat beside her, was watching closely at how the act was meant to be done. Aesop had lined himself up in the back, pleasantly enjoying his companions silhouettes shift in the light, a hand over his knee, legs crossed tightly, expectant.

"So, let's start with the easiest thing --" the veteran began, picking up a block of beeswax from the back of the desk. Gesturing for her apprentice to hold out her hands, she pressed the ingredient into Grimm's hands. "Salves. Take this, grate it."

The girl followed, her lecturer taking a bottle of prepared infusion from the side, hollering over to the instructor for a trade -- one of her gathered materials for the component. An acceptable deal, one that Bistro was thankful for, knowing how much time went into letting the reagent stew.

"And with that, we can get to filtering."

One glass jar, taken from the cabinets near their working area. Grimms passed the woman her cheesecloths as she'd instructed ("Only two? There's no more?"), the latter placing them on top of a funnel she'd set at the lip of the fresh container. Bistro yanked the cork on her infusion with her teeth, before tilting her wrist, pouring the mixture onto the cloth and watching the solids separate from the liquid in earnest.

"Grimms, is the wax done?" A shake of her head, the girl in mentioning setting aside a smaller slab of wax, a show of proof of her work. "... Oh -- no, it's fine. We can work with that."

No stoves, only an open flame from a makeshift Bunsen burner in the corner. Bistro let the moment pass, delegating her filtering task over to her assistant as she waited for the wax, now held in a metal pot, to melt. When the infusion bottle had been depleted, it shattered, and Bistro signaling Grimms over to her side, removing the filter and allowing the girl to pour the infusion into her pot.

"It's always burst before this."

"The trick is to use more cheesecloths." Bistro was only half joking when she'd mentioned it, but proper straining felt essential to her. "It'd be better if we made these from scratch, but time is of the essence with the beginner's quest. You'll have more freedom to experiment with different oils later on."

Swirling the pot only got them so far -- with some luck, they'd fished out a spoon stowed away in one of the many drawers of the alchemist's workshop. Aesop was of no help, only chuckling when Grimms shot him a somewhat pleading look, and then shifting his pose, returning to keeping quiet. A few quick tosses of the mixture, and Bistro conceded, pulling over one of the few smaller, containers that the novice had gathered earlier and pouring her liquid into it. Enough for only one.

Bistro frowned, setting aside her pot, making a mental note to clean it later. "Disappointing. Most of the time I'd see a little bit more than that."

"It's still liquid," Grimms pointed out. The alchemist nodded, picking up the bottle and setting it aside.

"Just needs to cool is all. In the meantime, I can help you with your attempt now. Care to try?"

Spoiler

ID: 146168 | CD: 10 | Success! (Uncommon)

Item Name: Low-quality Recovery Salve
Profession: Alchemist
Rank: 0
Roll ID: 146168 
Roll Result: 10
Item Type: Salve
Tier: 1
Quality: Uncommon
Enhancements: HP Recovery I
Description: It's not the best kind of work, but this would do well in a pinch, right?
Post Link: You're looking at it... But here's the link, just in case.

[Bistro 0]

"Aesop," Bistro began, reusing the half-shaven block of wax from earlier during the preparation of their next craft. "Why, exactly, aren't you helping your girlfriend out?"

It was Grimms who faltered instead, halfway through filtering the new bottle of infusion. Aesop merely leaned back in his stool, grinning back at Bistro, who'd peeped over her shoulder to check if she'd stirred a rise out of the boy. "She's not my girlfriend."

"We're not--"

A quick objection, and a successful one at that, had the trying alchemist not let out a yelp, noticing some of the liquid spilling onto to the table. Bistro shook her head, with an added whistle. "Careful there."

Noises of frustration from the girl, as she left the workbench to search for a cloth. Aesop watched her go, before his sights went back to the mentor, raising a brow. "We're not dating is what she meant to say."

"I know," Bistro replied, depleting the last of the chip in her hands. "I'm just teasing you two."

"Save it for later, when we're finally out of here..."

"Alright, alright."

[Bistro 0]

It'd taken them two more tries, during which Bistro had to stifle her laughter, as Aesop shot her some scowls. Come time to leave the shop, the skies were starting to pick up layers of red, with the evening star barely peeking above the city skyline.

"Thanks for the tutoring, 'Bis.'"

The trio shuffled out the workshop, Aesop taking his leave first. As Grimms waddled down the steps, Bistro made sure to close the door to the store behind them. "No problem. Happy to help."

"When're you gonna cash in on your favours, anyway?"

"Beats me." Two hands stuffed back into her pockets, the alchemist finally finding her footing back onto familiar concrete. "I was just thinking about it too. How many have I racked up by now...? Across a few players... Eh, I'll hold onto them. There's always something cool on the horizon."

Now standing side by side, Grimms was easily a foot shorter than her male counterpart, and Aesop set a hand to the top of her hood draped over her head just to prove it. It earned him a grunt of annoyance, as the boy casually turned, picking their direction to trek in. "Got it. You let us know if you need anything, yeah?"

"Easily." Bistro waved them off with a smile. "See ya! Stay safe!"

"Buh-bye~"

When they'd finally faded away in the distance, Bistro shrugged and followed in their footsteps. She was headed down that path anyway, though it didn't seem right to walk beside the duo at the same time.

First stop: the Takoyaki place. She'd been craving some ever since the last salve-making try. As she popped one into her mouth, on her stroll back towards home, she hummed in satisfaction at the thought that there would be many, many more days like these ahead of her.

All was well, as things should've been.

... Except for this Takoyaki-- oof, ow ouch-- hot---!