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[F27-PP] All to Ash...


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A violent spray and a blood-curdling scream. A boy no older than 20 clutches his right arm at the elbow, and a glowing stump just past that. A weapon clatters to the ground and is quickly lapped up by the sleet. "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!" Shouts an older man, adorned in thick leathers and hide to stave against the cold. Eyes dart as he squeezes the shoulder of his comrade, burning above his head a nice little amber crystal spinning. Watching carefully into the flurry, trying his damned to pick out their pursuer. It had struck without warning, and the result. A slowly climbing parasite in the form of frost on the youngers skin.

On his flank, as he scans, his ally shatters and becomes sucked into that blizzard. Nothing more than a "Hgah." to alert him to it. The volume quickly vanishes into the storm. Abruptly pivoting, still holding onto that kid with a tight grip. "Show yourself, damn it, Fucking coward!"

A smile forms across a pair of cloth covered lips. A boast of an ego too ashamed to admit... it was terrified.

Spoiler

Setsuna, The Frigid End
Level: 32
Paragon Level: 43
HP: 800/800
EN: 98/98

Stats:
Damage: 23
Mitigation: 20
Evasion: 4
Accuracy: 4
Loot Dice: 1
FLN: 16
FRZ: 56
FRSTB: 40
RSKY: 8

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Shiva's Embrace - Skadi [T4/Demonic/Katana] Fallen 2, Freeze 1, Frostbite 1
Armor: Azuresilk Kunoichi Wear - Ghost [T4/Demonic/Cloth] Evasion 2, Risky 2
Misc: Kunoichi Wrapping's [T1/Demonic/Trinket] 3 Accuracy, Evasion 1

Custom Skill:


Skills:
Katana R5
Cloth Armor R5
Charge

Active Mods:
Blindside
Vanish
Surprise Attack (Assassin)
Athletics
Untraceable

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Ferocity
Nimble
Stamina
Precision

Active Extra Skills:
Hiding R5
Parry
Disguise
Frozen Hide

Inactive Extra Skills:

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystal x1
Crystal of Divine Light [201986e] x

Housing Buffs:
Well Rested: -1 energy cost for the first three expenditures of each combat
Squeaky Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 25% (rounded down)
Hard Working: +2 EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day
Filling: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot.
Item Stash: +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
Delicious: Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed.
Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
Advanced Training: +10% Exp to a thread. Limit one use per month [1/1]
Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
Decor []: This buff affects the player and their choice of up to two party members.

Guild Hall Buffs:
Lucrative: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters receive +1 crafting attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters receive +2 crafting attempts per day.
Col Deposit: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

 

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It was the promise of an introduction to the Commander in Braso that swayed him to venture westward first. What little the brokers had pieced together immediately after the floor became available indicated that this was where warriors went to hone their skills. It had yielded no fruit. Despite his best efforts, Alkor was barred entry and murmurs of "no outsiders" became the litany chanted from the top brass to the lowliest barkeep. "How it always happens, that is," an older woman nodded to indicate the soldiers occupying the city as the swordsman ambled past, shrugging off several layers of thick robe to wipe away the sweat that accumulated beneath. "They're as cold and unforgiving as the land itself to outsiders. You'll need to come highly recommended if you want the old man to even look your way."

Alkor shrugged off her words. If they meant anything, it wouldn't be something he picked up on. "Shame, that. A few green looking travelers passed through her not three bells past, just looking for a place to say. The innkeeps rushed them out and sent them on their way. Looked like they were headed into the mountains..." her voice trailed off a bit as her eyes glassed over, wistful. "...poor children," she tutted several times and turned back to Alkor, who sipped gingerly at his canteen. "These elements are harsh on the young bloods, especially if they're not used to the weather. I hope they can find shelter."

It didn't seem that the people of Braso were quick to kick people out of the city, but they were less inclined to offer them a place to stay. Curious, because that meant the area was largely inhospitable for the moment- until they met some kind of condition, perhaps? Alkor regarded the woman with a sidelong glance. "Nights must be harsh out there," he continued the conversation kindly as possible, though she would most likely not have cared if he deigned to be rude. The NPCs rarely did.

"Yes, of course," she laughed. "If they managed to live that long. See, it's the local wildlife and the brigands that haunt the wilderness what concern me." 

His gaze found the woman a bit more intently. "Some nasty creatures out in that tundra," she added. "Local legends and the like talk about vicious beasts that move with the wind, unseen. And the cutpurses have learned to use those folktales to line their pockets. It's the perfect crime, and what's more, the city guard haven't got the extra hands to spare-"

"That'll be enough of that, Lorraine," a man cut her short and curtly glanced at Alkor, wedging himself between the Player and his sole source of information. "I advise you to forget what you've heard here today, stranger," the man told him. "Braso don't need no outsiders in its business, leastways not outsiders that ain't proven their worth," he ushered the woman away, then turned his back to the Knight.

"Say a body wanted to find itself near where the last couple of outsiders ended up," Alkor called after him. "Which way would he head?"

The guardsman grunted and gestured roughly northeast. "You want to die, that's your business, lad, just make yourself scarce and don't rear your head round these parts again."

"I'll keep it in mind," Alkor shrugged.

*****************************************************

If his hunch was right, the "poor children" that the woman referred to were Players like him, quick to rush toward a place they thought that they could get stronger. They trudged into the deeper snows of the Western part of the floor without a basis of knowledge about what lurked there. The Brokers found out all they could, but Alkor had only received intelligence about Braso being the military power of the floor. This new tidbit about the environmental hazards, and the bandits- that didn't sit well with him. Where there were bandits, there were worse things. It could be that he was paranoid, but Alkor had to assume they were in above their paygrade.

It was strange. The wails of wind seemed to carry far, almost like the mountains were screaming. He stopped and took a cursory glance around, cautious to watch his flank often enough to avoid attacks from the sides or behind, but saw nothing. White out conditions robbed him of vision beyond a few feet ahead. No one should have been traveling like this, especially not with temperatures rapidly diminishing.  

Quote

-RSELF TOGETHER!"

Alkor stopped. The sound of screaming had substantiated, and he could understand the words. Someone was being attacked. He unsheathed his weapon and trudged headlong into the blizzard, his own safety an afterthought.

Quote

 "Show yourself, damn it, Fucking coward!"

With the situation worse than anticipated, Alkor felt his expression sour. He could see the crystal that manifested over the Player's head, a telltale amber signature that he had broken some law set forth by the game or another. It was a common result of Player Killers luring unsuspecting victims into the wilderness. Alkor had a thousand questions, but no time to ask them. Those had to come later. He could see nothing, and so, with nothing to target, he sprinted headlong into the fray and threw his body over those of the two Players screaming out for their lives. "You both stay down." His command was icier than the world around them as he stared into them with wild eyes. Exhilaration burned in his veins more than the fear of death. If there was an enemy here that might push him to his limits, he would meet that danger head on. "If you expose yourself to the threat again before I give the word, I won't stop it from killing you."

His eyes rose slowly, his body still crouched over the two Players with his cloak obscuring the better part of their bodies from view. His own form was a stain of black against the wicked white world, a target perhaps, but seemingly not a human one. The attacker would see nothing more than a sharp, lambent gold gaze peering out of that darkness, scouring the world for a target. He had seen enough- the footprints, though rapidly dissipating- collaborated a murder scene of significant scale. Regardless of who had started the killing, or who had been killed, Alkor was keen to end it.

"No one else is dying here today," he spoke softly, but the winter winds carried his voice far enough. He held his weapon to the throat of the Orange Player beneath him, discouraging any potential violent outbursts. The man seemed docile enough at that.

"Unless someone feels keen to test me about that," he added.

Spoiler

Stats

Alkor

740/740 HP 112/112 EN

Base Damage: 23 Mit: 30 Acc: Eva: 3 Blight: 32  In addition, a target afflicted with Blight loses 20 Mitigation for 2 turns Bleed: 48 Paralyze Battle Healing: 42/turn Survival: 10% increase to healing effects

  • Total EXP: 176719
  • Total SP: 185
  • Current Level: 32
  • Paragon Level: 29

Inventory

Equipped: 

Item Name: Witchfang
Item Tier: 4
Item Type: OHSS
Item Enhancements: CURSED / BLIGHT / BLEED / PARALYZE
Description: "Forged from the fang of a massive Black Dragon slain by a nameless hero in ancient times, it was given
as offering to placate a Sorcerer intent on bringing low the Kingdom. He struck a deal with the hero, in exchange for
a reprieve in his generation, the fang would return to haunt their world one day. Witchfang promises ruin to those who
are struck by it. The weapon's edge is fashioned of Obsidian and invested with myriad afflictions. 
One of Aincrad's Cursed Weapons, its very presence inspires fear and invokes the chill of darkness."

Item Name: Cloak of the Wandering Warrior
Item Tier: Tierless
Item Type: Light Armor
Item Enhancements: EVA III
Description: "Tattered from the wear of many battles, this cloak was once worn by a warrior who faced the trials of the Castle and through the flames found the strength to walk again."

Item Name: Eye of Osiris
Item Tier: Tierless
Item Type: Accessory
Item Enhancements: ACC III
Description: A pin fashioned in the style of Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, depicting the eye of the god Osiris.

Skills/Mods/Addons

<<One Handed Straight Sword>> rank 5
<<One Handed Straight Sword>> Ferocity Addon
Stamina Addon
Precision Addon

<<Light Armor>> rank 5
Meticulous Mod
Resolve Mod

<<Battle Healing>>
Emergency Recovery Mod

Energist

Combat Mastery: Damage

ST Specialist Combat Shift

Charge

Extra Skills:

Survival

Parry

 

Edited by Alkor
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The storm thickened, as bitter cold tore through flesh to bone. Bodies become buried in a sea of white. A predator in that white had robbed them of courage, and they'd succumbed to it. Nefarious purpose had set the dial on that clock far past the strokes of daylight. A slender draw of a blade from the scabbard on her waist, color becoming mixed within that flurry. Nestled in that white playing the part of camouflage easily, a ghost by all definition. A body becoming translucent and like vapor, as legs began to carry her.

A vow carrying her.

Faint cries from the boy still missing his arm, as that creeping death continued to trail itself up. For his throat, the toxin had found its host, and it wouldn't be long before the fever claimed him. Struggling to keep himself awake, as his vision became blurred. His companion, his better, cradling the last of three that were foolish enough to attempt to exploit others. A man, but a monster. His path was chosen, his fate was sealed. The darting cyan light like a bolt of lightning scatters through. Snow begins to follow suit, being caught in the vacuum behind the jarring trigger of multiple skills. A weapon moving for the kill, a single remaining head for the pike.

To set an example.

Inclusion of black on that pastel paper white backdrop, and her katana finds connection, but it was solid. Not flesh, for that would offer no resistance. A single clash of steel on steel, a spray of sparks. Looking past those interlocked guillotines, a pair of feral looking eyes emboldened with cyan desire to kill. Fury, focused to lethality. That blizzard takes reprieve for but a brief flash, the force pushing it back and forming an eye within the storm. Someone had the strength to halt her advance, and that was no simple feat. "You." it bites through a cloth covered mouth. It turns to smoke and evaporates.

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 "You." 

 

Alkor felt the impact rattle through his entire body. If he had been a lower level Player, that kind of raw power would have torn through his defenses and felled him where he stood. Though his focus was on their environment as the true enemy, the man's experiences had taught him not to trivialize the strength of others. Murderers within Sword Art Online exploited the weaknesses of Players who dropped their guard. In instances where the world had offered them a reprieve, the nefarious Player Killers sank their fangs deep and drove poison into the hearts of others. More names for the monument. Less faces to return to the world they had come from. In a way, he understood the rage that drove the woman to do what she did; because at one time, the same all-consuming anger had driven his own blade.

The mist swallowed her form whole again, and Alkor knew that she would not leave it at that. His eyes found the youth who had lost an arm, and he summoned a potion from his inventory which he promptly dropped onto the chest of the wounded youth's terrified compatriot. "He's dying," the Dark man scowled. He didn't need to do more than note the rapidly dropping health of his witless ward to understand the nature of the wound. "Use that potion to stabilize him, but you need to get him back to a safe zone as soon as you can."

He heard the other man weakly attempt to refute his words, but Alkor knew better than to argue with him. If Setsuna wanted him dead, he was a Player Killer, or somehow associated with them. His cursor was enough proof of that. "I don't care that you can't get into a safe zone," he whispered hoarsely, watching for any sign, any sound that might give the girl away. The crunch of snow, or a print- where her stealth might be much higher than his ability to sense, the winter was an unexpected but welcome equalizer. "Find someone who can. The longer you argue with me, the less time he has."

It was grotesque, but the only opportunity he had to buy them time was to draw Setsuna out into a battle of attrition. They had to be bait, and he had only precious seconds to prevent her from capitalizing on that opening. It was a gambit he had to make, if they were going to live. "Now," he murmured, and then his voice raised, "go!" 

With any hope, the play would take the woman by surprise- but not nearly enough to keep her from taking the opening he'd given her. He started to toggle auto-targeting, utilizing the Cardinal system's assistance; and the moment that she appeared... he would hit the Charge command.

Edited by Alkor
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A click as she redirects, apparating out of thin air and pressing her back into a frozen stone. The crunching of footfalls as bodies began to shuffle. Peering out as clumps of fog join with that blizzard, escaping the inch of steel of a rime cold blade. A sharp exhale, as she reaches into her clothes and removes a small vial. Her saya just beneath her wrist lights with a sword art being charged. With a thumb, she plucks the cork and casts out a tiny red light that quickly manifests into a loose shape.

"Use that potion."

Biting her teeth together so aggressively, it cut the lining of her cheek. "You won’t escape my vengeance." tightening her grip on that hilt, her feet spread low, shifting the snow. Her stance, akin to that of a runner, held taut that edge. A pulse forms a ring beneath where her feet were planted. That same darting light like a projectile, a single finite bit. A lethal slice aimed for the kill. Alkor blinds it at a nigh equal trail of his own, a swing finding a duplicate and making it disperse into powder. Lifting the blade and catching the soft patter, blades lock again.

"Why, do you know what they are here to do?" The girl spits through her mask, her name and cursor gone, and in its place a taste of outrage. Her appearance drastically different from the last time they'd met. A wave of shadow had consumed and changed her since.

A yelp of terror and the footsteps become faster paced. They would escape at this rate.

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Their blows reached an impasse as the man hurried away, clutching the amputee in his arms. He didn't see if the potion were administered, nor did he avert his gaze from Setsuna at all. A moment with his guard down would be an invitation for disaster, especially at odds with an opponent like this one. "I don't," he admitted without giving ground. "But it shouldn't matter. One should always strive to find a solution better than the escalation of violence."

He knew that Setsuna did not agree, and he knew why she did not. "Every life is irreplacable, and we should not want to add corpses to the pile that this world has already created." They had spoken similar words before, and she had reaffirmed her devotion to the cause. Alkor had hoped he would never live to see her in the act, but fate seemed determined to spit in his face this time.

Alkor made no attempt to smile or change his expression. He was never a good liar, nor did he have any reason to try to appeal to the girl out of emotion. In this, they were two broken creatures shambling on opposite ends of virtue. Her rage met his determination and they gave no ground. "You look different, Setsuna," he said suddenly. 

But that was true of them both, wasn't it?

"I wish I could say I was glad to see you again, but given the circumstances, you'll have to forgive me the indiscretion."

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A harsh grinding as her blade is dragged against a rapid moving Alkor's, casting a shower of lights and sparks as they connect. Another slam as she vanishes and reappears, to Alkor's immediate right. Past those angry slivers of metal, a locked gaze betwixt the two. "You would preach to me of violence, after what I've seen their kind do?" The words came off harsh and cold like sandpaper. A vorpal tear and blades ring out, it would look like a storm to which Alkor was in the middle of, even still the man didn't seem bothered in the slightest. All that he'd reflect, was that same stalwart stare as he kept his senses open.

"What of the lives they inevitably destroy, with their selfish exploitation. What will you tell the ones who suffer at their hands?" There was an obvious outrage, those player killers would be long gone. All the girl would be is blind by her fury. Scoffing as she begins to remove her blade, staring Alkor down and contemplating giving pursuit. Her prey was not the man, but the one's he'd aided. "I am different, Alkor." a slight relax with that blade bleeding out smoke that joined the storm, held off to her. "This isn't how I ever imagined us meeting again, at ends over monsters masquerading as men. I'd say you've changed, but only in appearance."

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"If you want them, the only path leads through me," he said, as their weapons careened away from each other and the force of her strikes made him slide backward through snow. "They've watched you kill their friends, they are wounded, they are terrified. Now that they have seen their weaknesses, they are malleable."

Alkor took up his blade in a defensive stance, pensive as he fixed the woman with his stern, stoic's gaze. "Death is not a lesson to the dead," he called hoarsely, his voice at odds with the storm. "The dead learn nothing, and will never grow again. They can never feel the pain or bear the weight of those lives they took. They can never make amends. Vengeance tastes like satisfaction for only a moment. It is not a filling meal. Those families want their loved ones back, they want their memories to mean something- they're not looking for corpses to fill the vacant seat at their table."

Winter threatened to swallow them both whole as the biting gale intensified around them, as though some angry god of frost had been enraged at the clash of their blades. Steam billowed off of Setsuna and he thought she might evaporate into thin air if he took his eyes off her. 

"If you want justice for those who have died, you need to seek it through teaching these killers the error of their ways. You should only kill as the very last resort, only when your victim is wholly irredeemable." He vaguely gestured toward the darkness behind him, his breath turning to smoke in front of his eyes. 

"They have seen what mercy looks like, now," he spoke solemnly, "or do you intend to cut me down to give chase?"

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The bitter chill continued to blaze on around them, threatening to circumvent the player's survival as it howled. "Death is a lesson to those that survive it. You are so sure that they will learn, that they will witness their mistake or taste their own fear. What makes you believe that they will not seek out the easy solution again?" Hand resting on the handle of her blade, weighing her options. She knew damn well Alkor could keep up with her enough to make obliterating that scum difficult, and her element of surprise was all but gone.

"Those that survive them will learn from their mistakes, what happens to those that would make the same decision. How can you not see that? The taste of vengeance is nothing more than a side effect, it doesn't matter if it is fleeting. The memories of those lost will never be forgotten, becoming a permanent brand on the souls that are damned by them. It isn't pleasant and it isn't better. It is bitter but real." That screeching made the words louder, as she shouted against that bellowing creature of winter.

"They are all irrdeemable, every last one of them. They made their choices, they made their kill. Why should they be given a second chance, so they can abuse it. Do you think they will stop? Once the choice has been made once, it always lingers on the tip of the tongue. The taste of blood, it is easy and once it has been tasted it isn't one forgotten easily. You would speak to mercy to creatures unable to feel it, as if they would learn from it. They will use your mercy to slay more." She believed this to be the only truth.

"You are not my enemy, and you will not be able to stop me forever." The girl howled against those winds, a flickering frame still bleeding into that chill.

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It was like a deep, rich wine, Vengeance. Once you took a sip, it either soured on your tongue and you never wanted it again, or it was intoxicating. Setsuna had not lost her thirst for it with a single kill.

Her words, her actions were like a woman possessed. He could see the intensity of her need. It replaced other, baser urges. "Who will have mercy on you?" he asked, his voice much quieter. "You, who have tasted blood again and again, who decries the actions of killers while becoming a killer yourself. How much deeper will you sink before you drown in it?" he questioned her. She was obsessed with this mission that she claimed to have chosen for herself. "When you finally reach out your hand, it will be too late."

She spoke about becoming a monster so no one else had to, and she denounced his actions as wasted kindness. He could no longer see the others, or anyone else. The storm had grown too thick, and he could feel the chill set in. If they did not seek shelter, the elements could very well end their lives. "If you are convinced that life exists only in black and white, you can't enjoy the beauty in every other shade." He gestured toward the town, or at least in that direction. "Come back together with me. It's too cold for this. You need a blanket and a hot drink."

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A quiver in her eyes, as the color starts to fizzle and fade out. "Who will have mercy on me!?" What an odd question, as she kept with that same intensity. The words fighting to be heard in the maelstrom that screamed around them. The snow threatening to bury them both under its magnitude. "I am already drowning in it, Alkor, It's all I can feel. I won't pretend I am not a monster, I hate myself." A scattering of something glimmers and is sucked into that wave, and the shout felt pained. Like an exposed wound in agony, it felt taxed and bleeding. She was lying to herself, to protect herself.

"I am just like them, and it makes me sick to my stomach." A thought races through her head, she's been here before. A sharp pain in her chest, as if someone had driven a blade clean through and out the back. "I cannot stand that you would see me that way. It's true, but I hate it." Choking out the admission, feeling weak and struggling to remain up and unfazed. The fractures were evident on her prison of glass. 

"Because I imagine if I was born without sight, every minute I could experience even small things like color, I'd be amazed."

The intensity starts to fall away, a tenacity trying to resist and plug up the holes. Stop from breaking away. "Why did it have to be you? If it was anyone else, I wouldn't think twice. I would be second guessing this. It would be obvious." Her words sharp, as the white grew that much denser. 

"I'm just speaking on the irony of a burgeoning Otaku calling someone a dork." The memory of that quirky shit eating grin, one that had stuck with her.

The soft crunch as she moves toward the man, a question of intention with a scowl plastered on her face. She debated mentally, as Alkor would size up her intentions carefully. Should she cut him down, and stay true to what she believed was right.

*crunch*

A sourness hung on the air like a stink, trying to convince herself to do it.

*crunch*

It would be difficult, but she couldn't let him stand in her way

*crunch*

Staring up with this sinister twist in her eye, that same bitter cold composure that all had come to expect. *poof* and what seemed like without reason, she sticks to him like a net. Expecting her rebuttal, instead he gets an eyeful of the top of her scalp. "Fine, have it your way. Prove me wrong." She mutters with that same taste of spite. She didn't cut him in half.

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He understood all too well what it meant. 

There was a time when he thought killing killers might make a difference. When he believed that his own lack of humanity made him perfect for the task- yet when faced with his own mortality, he couldn't reconcile the idea of dying. He had so many things left undone, so much potential for good, for evil, for everything in between. He had potential to live a life, unlike the empty husk that he was in the world outside of Aincrad. Limp, unenthused, and going through the motions, he had all but given up. Too afraid to life, too afraid to die... and then, Sword Art Online. "You don't have to hate yourself," he said quietly, "but the path toward loving yourself... I can tell you, it's a hard one, and it's filled with difficult decisions and a million obstacles."

She had busied herself with meting out justice, or her brand of it, and tried trap everything else about herself under ice. Sorrow, anguish, and bitter hatred- largely aimed toward herself- were all that could grow under those conditions. Setsuna revealed in an instant that they had already grown rampant. He kept his weapon low, uncertain as she spoke. Would she attack? Would her convictions outweigh the humanity still trapped deep beneath the frozen surface? 

Why did it have to be me...? 

He was confused when she said those words. What had he done? Surely, nothing so groundbreaking as to give this young woman pause? Yet here she was, clearly struggling, clearly on the precipice. Closer, closer, until there was no distance between them at all. If she wanted to stab him, she could easily have done it. Was he prepared to die for this? His hand tightened around his blade as he chewed his lip. He wanted to show mercy, like he preached. To do that, he had to first show trust. He had to give Setsuna every reason to believe his words were true. He had to show her compassion so that she could learn it.

Alkor dismissed his weapon and took a deep breath, his eyes shut. If the impact came, if his health began to drop, it would all be over quickly. He would never even realize it.

But it never came.

Instead, he felt something around him, something small but warm. Warmer than he would have expected from a woman in the same frigid environment as him, at least. He glanced down as she spoke, uncertain of what to do. Was she- was she hugging him? What was going on?

Quote

"Fine, have it your way. Prove me wrong." 

 Alkor was at a loss for words. Not only had he managed to survive, but Setsuna was hugging him. Had he gotten through to her, or was this a momentary respite? No- that hardly mattered. What mattered was how he followed through. Alkor could not begin to know the next steps for the woman. He hardly knew what path to walk himself. "Alright," he made up his mind, "lets head back. We're going to freeze," he reiterated. "...do you know which way it is back to the settlement? The blizzard has gotten pretty bad," he said, pointing toward the blurred horizon.

He had hardly anticipated a Mexican standoff today, and the storm wasn't doing them any favors, either.

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A somber tone, as she'd remove herself from that which was born again. The howling winds continued on around them, where not a moment before had become silent. Through thoughts and consequence or a clash of hope, a single moment of security betwixt its gaze. Caught on the taste of what might come, on the thought of what might be. And yet she chose this, chose to stay her blade for but a brief moment. The truth was the girl could not stand what she had become, and it was plastered on the still fleeting callousness stuck to her brow as if it was adhered there.

The slight popping of her heels digging in, virtually unfazed by the bitter sting as the weather continued to bite. Durability however only on the exterior, as a writhing bubbling of the case around her heart. Threatened to boil over. At the end of this display, it had been Alkor who had dismissed his weapon. Shown a leap of faith that Setsuna would not have. Perhaps that was the trick, the secret. A truth. All too often the girl was treated as a weapon, a husk, something dead. But there were those, so finite few, that were capable of seeing the humanity locked within that sheet of ice. Although it was kept dormant, for fear of what it might mean or do. Protected, a select few could see it.

The few that could cause her to question her ideals.

Footsteps being the one staple, breaking away as weight found them. "Southeast" But a single twisted phrase that struggled to not be swallowed up. The pale coloring of Setsuna's skin didn't offer her any visibly against the storm, and yet her silhouette would. Alkor was to play her guide into the unknown, the most she could do was offer him the same.

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