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[F01 - PP] A Cuppa Tea


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Awareness seeped into the spaces surrounding her, clotting them with a darkness that seemed to stretch on forever. Like a stale sponge that had been cast into a kitchen sink, her skin became saturated with a familiar sensation. Hairs standing on end alerted her to frigid air as her nostrils began to fill with the scent of...plastic? For as much as her mind mulled over each observation, her mouth couldn't seem to muster the speech to decipher it. An undetermined orientation made gaining her bearings all the more challenging. With a pointed will, she recruited her muscles to move. Seconds passed as she laid frozen, unable to flex a single limb. Why can't I move?, hissed a panicked whisper. Before long, her blurred eyes found themselves fixated on an ever-growing entity near the edge of her --

She lurched forward, shocked into vitality by a silenced scream.

All around her were particles of dust, phasing in and out of their short-lived procedural existences. A nearby rattling sound quickly claimed her attention. Banishing a whirlwind of blended stimuli revealed the silhouette of a small misshapen creature. Bor..."Borris?", she finally managed to mutter. The poor familiar seemed to have disassembled itself into a heap of shivering stones. "Ugh, god", she groaned with the wipe of an eye, "I'm sorry, did I scare you again?" Extending a hand, she attempted to comfort him. "I -- man, that was rough." The lithic little golem cautiously coiled into a comforting chain around her wrist. Arms criss-crossed behind her back, Elora released any residual tension with a groggy stretch. "Think I could use some tea after that one", she suggested in a more light-hearted manner. In the many months that had passed since the Storm of Shadows, Elora had taken to tasting different combinations of wild fruits and herbs. Frequent forays had become a new favorite hobby of her's, though her aspiration of opening a shop remained neglected. It was difficult to commit to such an intimidating prospect. Crafting concoctions for herself was one thing, but making them for others, well, I'll get around to it eventually, she reassured herself. A series of shuffles across dilapidated floorboards planted her beside a humble kitchenette. Without hesitation, she snatched a jar from the countertop and emptied its contents. As if on cue, Borris decoupled from her hand and dropped into a pestle below, crushing the mixture into a fine powder. "You don't have to do that, you know. The system will take care of it on its own", she reminded him. Still, the endearing sequence brought a smile to her face. "Well, let's give it a shot". With the press of a button and the cheering of a ceramic, Elora lifted the beverage to her lips to take a sip. "Hmmm..."

"Oh, this one's good!", she exclaimed after a moment of savoring its flavor, "I wonder what Freyd would think of it" Come to think of it, it'd been awhile since she'd seen him. Admittedly, exploring the world's other floors had kept her more preoccupied than she was used to. It was a welcome change of pace that left her craving more than what she'd previously settled for. "Speaking of which...", she mused, "What do you say we get out of this stuffy inn for a day?" A nod from her dusty companion was all the affirmation she needed.
 

                                                NEW MESSAGE                                         

@Freyd

From: Elora

        Hope you're awake 'cause I've got something to show you! No, it's                not another wild mob -- don't worry, you'll LOVE it! At least I think. 

        Anyways, be there soon!

 

 "Yeah, that should work!", she said with an enthusiastic step into the town's teleportation portal.

 

***

Elora | HP: 700/700 | EN: 104/104 | DMG: 21 | MIT: 66 | EVA: 1 | ACC: 4 | BH: 35 | LD: 3 | AA | BLGT: 32 | FLN: 8 | REC: 3 | STK: 40

Spoiler

Elora
Level: 32
Paragon Level: 5
HP: 700/700
EN: 104/104

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 66
Evasion: 1
Accuracy: 4 
Battle Healing: 35
Loot Dice: 3
AA
BLGT: 32
FLN: 8
REC: 3
STK: 40

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Essential Verdigris (T4 Dem Polearm | AA | Blgt | FLN | STK)
Armor: Skirmisher's Garb (T3 Perf LA | MIT 2 | EVA 1)
Misc: Black Zephyr's Zeal (T3 Perf Trinket | ACC 2 | REC 1)

Custom Skill:


Skills:
Polearm R5
Light Armor R5
Battle Healing R5
Charge
Energist
Searching R3

Active Mods:
Meticulous

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Stamina
Precision
Focus
Resolve

Active Extra Skills:
Concentration

Inactive Extra Skills:

Battle Ready Inventory:
ITEM x1

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild:

Wedding Ring:

 

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Chaos.  Complete and utter chaos.  Freyd was practically beside himself, except that Montjoy would have taken such efforts poorly.  That was his job.  Little more than a seeping shadow without substance or permanence, he still managed an unnerving degree of autonomy.  Currently, he was using it to mock his caster - the object to his inky existence, who was absolutely unhinged over the fact that Quip had followed through on her threat.

"Shut yer geggy 'n' be greatful that ah wis willing tae dae it fur ye.  This steid is a disaster, Freyd, 'n' ah will na langer be wading thro' th' debris field ye ca' a shop.  Ah BIDE 'ere!" Her brogue was unusually thick today, which usually meant special-sauce levels of trouble.  Dingo had already made himself scarce and baracaded himself below them in the Liminal Blind - Freyd's sparsely furnished fortress of solitude with interior decor to make any Spartan or Vulcan proud.  "Ye cannae juist keep traivelin by 'n' dumping yer jobby in piles ilka time ye slaughter anither horde o' malcontents.  Sort.  Yer.  Jobby.  Sin ye weren't willing, ah did it fur ye.  Ye'r fàilte! "

"Welcome?!"  Judging by the excessively steep incline of his eyebrows, both of which were threatening to tip overboard, the diminutive Scottish shopkeep had pushed her luck one bridge too far.  "Do you have any idea how long it took me to establish this piling system in the first place?!  Of course everything is strewn all over.  There's shit in these piles that could blow up mountains and you've got it all laying out in the open for anyone to grab.  It's not meant to be simple to sort!"

A flash of light and cackling laughter fractured the momentum of his rant and drew the Whisper's eyes to the second storey of the restaurant across the street. Two figures reminiscent of Waldorf and Statler from the Muppet Show were staggering mid-guffaw watching the entertainment from their bedroom window.  Quaestor managed a weak wave while Miri clung to her husband's shoulder to keep her laughter from caving in her knees and toppling them both to the floor.  Even the shingle for Quaestor's Fine Quisine shook on its loose hanging post as they struggled to stop laughing.  This wasn't all that rare an occurrence.  Miri swore, like the sailor she was, that Freyd Edges offered the best comedy show in town, mainly due to the masterful dysfunction of its residents.

"Sorted or unsorted.  Thare is na middle ground, except mibbie in that rat's maze ye ca' a mynd." A half-dozen buckles exploded, flying about like shrapnel as she ripped the leather apron from her chest.  One of those veins that shouldn't ever be throbbing was spasming violently on her left temple, causing her eye to twitch in time.  "A'm dane trying tae decipher th' chimera logic ye pretend mak's sense that cryogenically frozen peanut rattling aroond ben yer heid.  Deal wi' it yersel', fur a' ah care.  Ah quit!"  Upending every table in her path, Quip stormed away from the otherwise pastoral monastery that had long served as her home and sanctuary.

When she was finally out of sight, Freyd sighed and started righting the mess she'd left in her wake, sorting everything just as she had.  Quaestor and Miri had already wandered back inside, thinking today's show was over and the odds of an encore low. 

"Sorry, Quip," he whispered to himself, "but you can't hide behind your own skirt forever, or mine.  It's past time I kicked you out of the nest to see if you can fly."  He knew well that there was no greater force to shove his brawny, matronly friend off whatever hill she'd most recently settled to die on.  Dingo, meanwhile, needed a bit more time in the oven. A timely ping from his interface drew the dour's spymaster's attention, easing a smile upon his lips as he read the accompanying message.  "Elora."  The very name held more meaning for him that anyone could possibly understand.  A quick reply signaled that he was at home in Angel's Point on Floor 13.  He then paused, hands stuffed into a pair of concealed pockets from the fabric of nothingness that passed as his clothes, looking about the ruined shop.

"Well, at least she left it matching the local decor.  Saves me having to clean up."

Translations:

Spoiler

"Shut your mouth and be greatful that I was willing to do it for you.  This place is a disaster, Freyd, and I'll no longer be wading through the debris field you call a shop.  I LIVE here!"

"You can't just keep walking by and dumping your shit in piles every time you slaughter another horde of malcontents.  SORT.  YOUR.  SHIT.  Since you weren't willing, I did it for you.  YOU'RE WELCOME!"

"Sorted or unsorted.  There is no middle ground, except maybe in that rat's maze you call a mind."

"I'm done trying to decipher the chimera logic you pretend makes sense that cryogenically frozen peanut rattling around inside your head.  Deal with it yourself, for all I care.  I quit!"

***

Freyd | HP: 1140/1140 | EN: 148/148 | DMG: 24 | MIT: 78 | EVA: 2 | ACC: 4 | BH: 62 | LD: 5 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | REC: 8

Spoiler

Freyd, The Whisper in Shadow
Level: 32
Paragon Level: 115
HP: 1140/1140
EN: 148/148

Stats:
Damage: 24
Mitigation: 78
Evasion: 2
Accuracy: 4
Battle Healing: 62
Loot Dice: 5
FLN: 16
HLY: 16
REC: 8

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Samael's Pride (T4 MA | HLY 2 | FLN 2)
Armor: Fallen Angel Garb (T4 LA | Mit 2 | Rec 2)
Misc: Fight O'er Flight (T3 Trinket | ACC 2 | EVA 2)

Skills:
Martial Arts R5
Battle Healing R5
Light Armor R5
Searching R4
Charge
Energist
Quick Change
Extended Mod Limit

Active Mods:
Night Vision
Tracking
Meticulous
Untraceable
Vanish
Surprise Attack (Assassin)

Addons:
Ferocity
Precision
Resolve
Reveal
Stamina

Active Extra Skills:
Disguise
Survival
Forgotten King’s Authority
Hiding R5

Inactive Extra Skills:
Meditation
Brawler
Photosynthesize
Frozen Hide

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystals x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+30*T HP) x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+30*T HP) x7
Crystal of Divine Light (Reusable) x1
Rhino's Horn (Reusable) x1
Hmr.Pk: The Thing Behind All Lies (T4 Demonic WH, AA, Blight, Static, Para.Ven (Off)) x1

Housing Buffs:
Rested: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat
Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)
Working: +2 EXP per crafting attempt
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.
Skylight (Searching): +1 Rank to the Searching skill.
Angler: +1 material gained when fishing
Advanced Training: +10% Exp to a thread. Limit one use per month [0/1]
Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
Decor [Potted Tanabata Bamboo Tree]: 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.

Scents of the Wild:
Kumatetsu Statue: +1 Base Damage for a thread

Wedding Ring: n/a

 

Edited by Freyd
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Sparse rays of light trickled between patches of puffy clouds above as Elora moseyed her way through Floor 13's main settlement. She'd learned to take extra caution whilst traversing across Angel's Point's slippery cobblestone streets. It never ceased to entertain her just how exaggeratedly dreary this environment was compared to others, especially Floor 1. The entry-level stage felt much more welcoming to her, albeit more bland. Come to think of it, she still had yet to discover a place that was truely more suitable to her tastes. Her thoughts were curtailed by the sight of an easily-distinguishable silhouette. "QUIP!", she called out to the woman who was walking toward her. For a second, it seemed like she hadn't heard her. Hands raised to cup her cheeks as Elora prepared to release a second, and much more amplified greeting. "Whoa, what happened to you?", was all that came out in the wake of inspecting her hardened features.

"Irt's that blasted boi o' yer's", Quip snapped, then continued with a huff, "I cun't stand it anymhoore!"

"Jesus, ok!", interjected Elora as eager hands waved to quell her companion's nerves. 

"He joost takes his sheight un' threuws it 'everywheere! How 'um I 'suppost to get an'ithing dune when I cun't even find me dumn legs!"

"That -- yeah, that sounds like a lot. I can understand why 'yer --"

"And then e's gut the goots to act leik 'um being the unreasoonable one! Leik 'um newt the one act 'n leik his mum, pickin' up 'is rewm! 'N whut dew I git fur it--?"

"Christ wewman, weud 'ye jist culm down 'fer 'alf a secund! 'Aim trying to git a werd in!" Quip's face seemed to suddenly set, its stoic expression only shifting with the hint of a furrowed brow. Elora made a stifled sigh, "Okay, sew 'ye dew still have 'yer wits about 'ye. Wert's all this 'yer talking about? Freyd's made you upset, that much I can gather. He's made a mess of the shop?"

"Nut joost the shop", she spat, her voice still shaking, "I cun't be around 'im right now. Yew try 'n tulk some sense innta 'im" With that, she brushed off Elora and continued on her way.

Damn, well that could have gone better..she clearly needs to blow off some steam.

I need to see how Freyd's doing, she thought after a moment's stalling.

Swift feet carried her quickly to the threshold of the shop, where everything seemed to be in disarray. A familiar mop of charcoal-colored hair could be found among its fallen wares. "Hi -- uh -- do you need any help?", she hurriedly offered at the end of her greeting.

 

Translations:

Spoiler

"It's that blasted boy of your's! I can't stand it anymore!"

"He just take his shit and throws it everywhere! How am I supposed to get anything done when I can't even find my damn legs!"

"And then he's got the guts to act like I'm being the unreasonable one! Like I'm not the one acting like his mom, picking up his room! And what do I get for it?"

"Christ woman, would you just calm down for half a second! I'm trying to get a word in! Okay, so you do still have your wits about you. What's all this you're talking about? Freyd's made you upset, that much I can gather. He's made a mess of the shop?"

"Not just the shop. I can't be around him right now. You try and talk some sense into him!"

 

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"Hmm?"  Freyd had been so lost in thought that he actually hadn't noticed her approach - which was not the slightest bit like him.  He was that guy who could leap and cling to the ceiling like a terrified cat, then spring down and unleash full murder-hobo-Armageddon on whatever unfortunate source disturbed him in the first place.  He was never not alert, yet here she'd actually snuck up on him just by walking casually down the road. 

"Oh, hello Elora."  A smile spread across his face, disturbing in its utterly uncharacteristic normalcy.  Where was the paranoia and furtive glancing over shoulders in search of imminent danger?  Where had the layers upon layers of conspiracy gone?  Where was all the Freyd?!  "You're looking lovely this morning.  Are you doing something new with your hair?"  All around, Freyd Edges looked even more frayed than it normally did, which would have required some effort.  Parts of the place were neatly laid out and organized, whereas other looked like a Scottish tornado had just blown through.  Given the height and width of the path of destruction, it also seemed likely that she'd just encountered the aftermath by the teleporter.

"Can I offer you something?  Maybe a, umm..." Turning his head several different ways found no purchase that would meet his needs.  "Something for breakfast at Quaestor's?  I know that he an Miri are awake, they were just leering out the window a minute ago."  Pausing, he wondered whether he'd missed something else that he shouldn't.  "Didn't you also say you had something to show me?"

Something definitely felt off about him and the whole place, but nothing was plainly evident to mark as the source.

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Freyd seemed to be unnervingly calm about it all, or at least, if everything that Quip had told her really transpired. She stared at him blankly for a moment, then blinked. "Oh? Ummm", she lifted a lock of hair to twirl it between her fingers, "I don't think so. It's a lot longer than before, but I've been growing it out for awhile now." Elora was surprised to find that she enjoyed the change. Sure, her hair still got tangled within this simulation, but it's not like she couldn't just unfurl it with the push of a button. It was hardly an inconvenience compared to brushing out real-world wind and debris. Maybe he's just trying to come up with something to talk about to keep his mind off of what happened, she assumed after further consideration. "Sure", followed a quick agreement to breakfast, "I've actually never been to their place. Haven't eaten today either." Elora's azure eyes flickered over to re-assess his demeanor. 

1408742730_eloralonghair.PNG.915beda21685edf58dbf072d315a490a.PNG"Didn't you also say you had something to show me?"

A giddy grin couldn't help but creep across her face. "Well yeah", she started, almost sarcastically, "But you're gonna have to wait now because it'll go great with breakfast!" Elora extended a hand and grabbed his before he could protest. She tenderly, but enthusiastically, began to tow him across the street. From the balcony above, their prospective hosts hurriedly gathered their things and made their way down to the costumer-facing floor of their building.

As the two of them slogged through the entrance, they were greeted by Miri. "Table for how many?", she promptly asked. Elora's eyes narrowed, as if she had begun to decipher a trick question. "For two then!", Miri inferred, "ight this way!"

Edited by Elora
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587bbd10552c48fea84f55512c5a7ac1.jpg.29c524e620dadd50344dbe70d171536f.jpgFreyd laughed lightheartedly when she tugged at his hand, completely oblivious of her encounter with Quip and truthfully just delighted to see her again.  The ripples of his well-intentioned machinations regarding the Scottish dervish were left to work out in the background until he could catch up.  And besides, he scolded himself, breakfast with her trumps most everything.  That thought alone confirmed how much he'd actually changed.  Still playing sheepish and coy, he thought to himself as she twirled her hair.  He'd long since noticed her various tricks and games, but thought it best to keep awareness to himself.  It makes her comfortable, and she needs that more than she lets on.  Blushed slightly at her familiar scent, flooding memories assailed of a compact disaster in a tiny room on the upper floor the run-down Hummingbard Inn, not long ago; and a desperately needed peaceful sleep.  Freyd's cheeks flushed further as Miri winked, have led Elora to the table.  His cowl was down, and with it his first line of defence.  This was most definitely not his favoured ground.

"What was all that racket with your shop stewardess this morning?" Miri's voice added like a lilting songbird.  Already able to liven up any room by sheer sass and an excess of attitude, Quaestor was either very lucky or completely under her spell - possibly both.  She walked about the restaurant with complete confidence, despite having only been rescued from limbo by Freyd and Quaestor a few months ago.  Her nature required her to take charge.  

"Ever the nosy neighbours, aren't you?"  Pivoting the chair across from Elora's he slung a lanky leg astride it and leaned forward against the back like he was in some greasy spoon or school cafeteria, hanging out with his besties.  Sarcasm and humour mixed in equal measure in his tone, still mildly frustrated that they had gawked over the whole thing.  "Let's just say that it was time to kick the angriest of angry birds out of the nest.  There might be some collateral damage to the local pig population, but such things are to be expected."  Quaestor slid a steaming platter of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table, eyes a twinkle behind his bushy ginger beard.  How apt.

"Welcome to our humble shop, my dear," the burly giant said to Elora in a deep yet soothing rumble of a voice.  Freyd wondered if it was what a giant Borris would sound like. Queastor often moved slowly, like the world was too fragile to bear his passage, reminding him a bit of Griswold, but with a merrier disposition.  "I already had these on the go, but is there anything else that I might fetch for you?" Flaming orange eyebrows wiggled their attention to the menu on the board behind the bar.  Freyd was too busy shoving a handful of bacon down his gob, clearly unaccustomed to the simple common courtesies associated with sharing a meal.  To be fair, he was woefully out of practice.

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Enthusiastic hands began to shift through items and submenus as soon as Miri had ushered them into a seated position. Without wasting any time, Elora summoned the ingredients to begin preparing her newest tea. Despite her efforts to remain concentrated on the task at hand, she soon became distracted with the subject of their conversation.

"Let's just say that it was time to kick the angriest of angry birds out of the nest."

Her elven ears twitched with a telltale curiosity.  "That's not what I heard--", she blunty sputtered. Cerulean eyes quickly returned to their work as soon as her companion's gaze fixated on her's. "I -- ran into Quip outside of town.", she started with some hesitation, Didn't seem like it was really a mutual decision--" Her final words were narrowly clipped by the cacophonous sound of Borris rolling atop the various herbs and spices. An unintended glace at Miri may have suggested her discomfort with digging in any deeper in the company of their hosts. 

The warm welcome from Queastor followed with an offer to further stock their stomachs. "I'll have...", she tried to grasp, "A chocolate chip scone -- along with bacon and eggs, that is!" Not like I can exactly overeat, anyway. "Thank you!", she remembered to follow-up with before returning to her work. Let's see...equip the honeylily, berrybark, and zengaleaf...grind them together...serve the mixture with a cup... Elora reached for a cup with such spontaneity that it toppled onto it's side and began to roll across the table. A few desperate pats later placed the object within her grasp. She quickly righted in and cleared her throat. "So, this is sort of like, well -- just let me know what you think!" An eager gesture slid the mauve-colored beverage before Freyd. Elora had already begun to rest her cheeks atop both her fists before she remembered that there food was to consume. With eyes widened, she snagged a piece of bacon to begin munching on.
 

Edited by Elora
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Freyd was curious to note that she'd encountered Quip on her way to meet him.

"You've met Quip," he started between shoveling more food into his mouth. "What could possibly lead you to believe that any interaction with that woman results in mutual decisions.  The only way to convince her to do anything is to get her pissed off about the opposite."  Leaving the rest of whatever latest scheme he'd hatched unspoken, Freyd focused instead on the latest platter's offering.  Borris' machinations provided added distraction, a tiny smile of approval singing him praise for his ingenuity.  It took a minute for him to realize what alchemy was being performed for his benefit, the penny dropping only as the cup was offered to him and opinion requested.

"Purple?"  One quizzical brow raised in wonderment.  People made food and drink from all sorts of different things in this game.  Any potential squeamishness dissolved when he considered half the consumables he'd previously imbibed and their sources.  Lich Loogeys.  One long, slurpy sip later, followed by the embellished smacking of lips and a pause.  "Actually, that's pretty good.  Did you two come up with this?"  Credit due was given to Borris for his efforts.

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"The only way to convince her to do anything is to get her pissed off about the opposite." 

Elora couldn't help but nod in agreement. Quip had a remarkable way of directing, or, misdirecting her rage to accomplish surmountable feats. "I guess it's not just her that I'm worried about", she remarked between a bite of food, "Are you really alright with how things left off -- if this doesn't resolve itself?" Elora accepted a secondary plate of protein and the desired pastry from the bear of a man who brought it. "You seem like you're fine...", she added with a tone that suggested he shouldn't be. 

"Actually, that's pretty good.  Did you two come up with this?" 

She seemed to brighten and slide into a straighter posture, "Yeah! I've been looking all over for as many ingredients as possible! There's a lot of nasty stuff, but also a lot of really good stuff. The trouble isn't in finding organisms that are safe to consume, but one's that are actually enjoyable to eat." She paused for a moment to think about how the cooks of Aincrad must face a similar challenge. "Well, I guess as Alchemists, it's not really our job to make our potions taste good", she admitted with swinging legs, "But I feel like we can make medicines that taste good and offer stat boosts to players. Honestly, the last thing I'd wanna drink if my guts were spilling out is a bucket of cough syrup.", she seemed surprisingly serious about that last remark. With the realization that she had begun to ramble, Elora swiftly stuffed her mouth with the recently-served scone.

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Leaning in against the chairback, Freyd's mood seemed to relax as he drank the purple concoction, a steady stream of sips confirming its approval.

"Taking our medicines," he echoed, the reference being especially apt to the earlier point.  He couldn't recall whether Elora had ever heard the tale.  It wasn't one that was retold with frequency, all parties involved preferring to place the painful memory behind them.  But, the true victims of the tale were not present, so maybe he could clue her in.

"You've never heard about Maeve, have you?"  Quaestor happened to be exiting the kitchen and stopped at Freyd's mention of the name.  His ginger bear and mustache bristled and and twitched, for he knew this story far too well himself.  Freyd glanced sideways at him, silently confirming what was coming, then continued his recounting.

"There were three of them at first: Quip, Dingo and Maeve.  I don't honestly know much about their real world lives, save that they were all related.  It was that family bond that kept them going in the early days, and Quip.  She was the eldest and stepped up to serve as pseudo-mom for her siblings.  Somehow, they endured and even thrived in Aincrad, but also grew too comfortable."  He sipped his tea, poignantly feeling like the cautionary tale was repeating itself at large.  Complacency was their enemy, and insidious in its designs.  It was why he'd never allowed himself to rest or barely even stand still, and why he savored rare moments like these when they permitted themselves.  They had to stay rare, or everyone and everything he cared about might just vanish in a blink.

"Aincrad did what Aincrad does: Maeve fell prey to a trap while childishly racing against her brother for a prize.  Quip was helpless to prevent it and watched her sister disappear into dust in an instant."  Pale fingers traced the rim of his cup, pensive of his friend's tragedy and sorrow.  The very fact that he'd removed his gloves was telling.  Freyd was never without them, and the same tools that served as his weapons carried with them a heavy price.  Miri and Quaestor had also gathered round the bar, listening in rapt attention.  A muted gasp escaped her lips when she first noticed the condition of his skin, their digital weave fractured and broken like burning acid had eaten away much of the skin.  It was healing, albeit slowly.  

"It nearly crushed Quip's spirit."  Freyd's voice was little more than a whisper now, tinged with traces of emotion he so rarely allowed to surface.  He stopped and sipped again, though whether to wet his lips or re-establish him composure was unclear.  "Some assholes convinced them that there was an item here on floor thirteen that could restore their sister to life, but only within twenty-four hours of her death.  They fleeced Quip of what little she had with their lies and set her on a suicide mission.  The poor girl was too devastated and desperate to care and dragged Dingo along for the ride.  Fortunately, they passed through this very shop along their way, asking Quaestor here for directions."  The big man's eyes were stubbornly downcast, staring at his untouched plate of steaming num nums.  "He had the good sense to tell his pesky neighbour, who chased into Valehaven after them.  The rest is history."  He'd lefte out Quaestor's role in the rest of the saga out of respect for the man's own struggles.

"Ultimately, the point is this:  Quip and Dingo landed on my doorstep as orphaned, broken souls.  I took them in to give them shelter and solace for as long as they needed to piece themselves together."  Even as he spoke, the last cracked segments of his hands were piecing themselves back together before their very eyes.  "If Quip can go on a tear and willingly walk away like she did this morning, it means her fires have rekindled and she's once again ready to take on the world - just as we all want and need her to.  She's just grown comfortable in her nest and needs to be coaxed out.  With her, at least, the easiest way to do that is her temper."  Tilting up his cup 'til naught but dregs remained, Freyd savored the last of it.

"That's some very fine tea, Elora.  Thank you for sharing it with me."

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"You've never heard about Maeve, have you?" 

Elora's ears perked up as her head began to shake in disagreement. Freyd continued to reveal that the duo had included a third, another sister?  "...and Quip.  She was the eldest and stepped up to serve as pseudo-mom for her siblings." It was a difficult responsibility, though one that Elora had seen an elder sibling undertake before. She could recall times when her brother Liam looked after her while their parents negligently shrugged off various responsibilities. In a lot of ways, it seemed like blaming her for their absence was easier than ensuring they acknowledged her needs. She couldn't decide whether or not it would have felt worse to lose her parents' support in the real world, or through the circumstances of being trapped in SAO.

"Aincrad did what Aincrad does: Maeve fell prey to a trap while childishly racing against her brother for a prize.  Quip was helpless to prevent it and watched her sister disappear into dust in an instant."

Eyes widened and muscles tensed as Elora set her jaw in dismay. "That's...so sudden...and so unfair...", she couldn't help but mutter. Her gaze first sunk to indiscriminately rest on the table of crumb-filled plates and tarnished cutlery before sharpening to take notice of Freyd's blighted hand. She quickly found it hard to focus as suspicions of its infliction began to fill her brain. Is that...some sort of status ailment? Where did he get that from? I hope it doesn't hurt...How come he hasn't told me about it? Maybe it isn't a big deal -- The sound of Borris rolling to investigate a sudden disturbance was enough to return her attention to the tale. 

"They fleeced Quip of what little she had with their lies and set her on a suicide mission...", her companion continued until the story concluded with a "...The rest is history." 

"What the fuck is wrong with people?", she snapped beneath her breath, "Why does anyone think that's alright to do to someone who just lost someone they loved? I can't believe how low some people can sink, it's despicable" Elora crossed her arms, "Quip and Dingo should've never had to go through that. I honestly don't know how she isn't peeved all the time." If someone did that to me, I'd hunt down the bastard and show him the meaning of loss, she thought bitterly. Ceasing her complaints, she allowed Freyd to finish his thoughts.

"That's some very fine tea, Elora.  Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Glad you liked it...", she said with a hint of sadness. Reaching out, she carefully cusped a hand over his. "That's one of the things I admire most about you...", she admitted with a weary smile, "How much you take care of those who need it. I think Quip sees it too, and maybe that's why it's been hard for her to walk away until now." Elora had started to turn his wrist as she spoke, in search of any lingering wounds. "I just want to make sure you're also looking out for yourself." A brief squeeze of his hand followed her relief of the retreated condition. "I don't need you charging head-first into any traps, whatever the case."

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Freyd's hand actually felt warm to the touch, more human than it tended to.  Even his face had more colour than it once did, more life and vibrancy than the dull, spent pallor of his early days.   Even his scowl was gone, the angular slope of a perpetual frown eased into something more aware and able to appreciate the simple pleasures.  He'd caught Elora's glancing at his hands.  Removing Samael's Pride had been deliberate and spoke to the underlying point.  Miri and Quaestor had gotten the clue and made themselves scarce.  More likely, she had and nudged him to leave with her.  The lady captain had a canny sense about such things and when to make an exit.

"It's the gloves," he said softly.  "They're basically a gateway to oblivion.  The lining on the inside isn't quite perfect," he added by way of understatement.  Every time the seal around them repealed, it sounded like a thousand banshees keening.  This weapon didn't just defeat, it annihilated.  

"It's also a reminder not to get complacent.  A weapon that threatens its user tends to work well for that."  Spoken with a smile, but also deep resonance with serenity.  Freyd was more self-aware than most, by necessity.  He knew the cost of actions and inaction; of leadership. 

"Thank you, Elora.  For caring.  You have no idea how much of a difference it's made.  I..."  A flinch as he pictured the end of the road not taken.  "I probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that - for you."  Turning his palm up to meet hers, a gentle and affectionate squeeze.  "And I can't help but notice that I still know so little about you.  Despite what people think, I don't actually aim to pry into their pasts, but yours has me very curious.  How is it that I know so little about the person that means so much to me?"

"As to running into traps," a playful smile behind his eyes as he glanced sideways at the empty cup, "it seems that I've already stumbled into one."

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"That's one weird ass cosmetic", she scoffed, "But I guess it's in line with the rest of your style." It was difficult to imagine him wearing anything but 5 layers of black, no matter the attire. "I think one of your best disarming tactics would be to charge into combat wearing nothing but neons", she couldn't help but laugh and shudder slightly at the thought. 

"I probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that - for you."

"Oh, come on...", she started, "It's not like I would have survived without you either. Do you REMEMBER how much those baby bores wanted to kill me? I could barely stand to confront them without your coaching" Elora's smile broadened as an especially-enthusiastic leg-swig nearly made contact with one of Freyd's shins. 

"And I can't help but notice that I still know so little about you...", he continued, "How is it that I know so little about the person that means so much to me?" After a moment's pause, he added, "As to running into traps, it seems that I've already stumbled into one."

A potent blush stretched from cheek to ear as Elora fumbled to mouth a witty response. "Guess you'll need to do some more prying", she joked nervously, "But I promise I'm not that interesting. Besides, doesn't the mystery make it fun?" After stacking their scattered dishes, she began to stand from the table. "Coming here made me feel like I'd been given a fresh start. Sure, I didn't do anything with it at first...", she admitted, thinking back to her earlier days of holing up in the Inn and refusing to socialize, "But it's been nice to branch out and try new things without consequence." Her legs bent as she crouched down to collect the remains of her rambunctious familiar. "SAO rewards you so obviously for everything that you do, whether that's slaying a mob or turning over a rock." Borris's headstone clattered over to her location, as if on cue. "I feel like that's something I really needed, and if I'm being honest", she hesitated, "I don't know that I'd want to go back."

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"That's one weird ass cosmetic, But I guess it's in line with the rest of your style."

Freyd said nothing, but subtle tension in his shoulder read as a flinch quickly covered by a smile at the prospect of him racing through the carnage of a battlefield in some absurdly loud, technicolor surcoat.  There were no expectations of understanding to be shattered or glossed over, though perhaps the tiniest tinge of disappointment prevailed.  Her mention of the boar fields flared a deep sense of nostalgia to replace it.  "So much chaos in those early days.  So much uncertainty and doubt."  Blue eyes locked with hers, comparing what lay behind them now to the doubts and fears of yesterdays.  Though it had softened of late, Freyd's resting gaze still carried his inner fire and intensity - that probing quality that looked for truth behind whatever veneer each person chose to wrap around themselves.  

"Guess you'll need to do some more prying. But I promise I'm not that interesting. Besides, doesn't the mystery make it fun?"

A flash of playful mischief broke through, the edges of his lips curling at the sight of rose upon her features.  "Fun?  Yes.  But part of the amusement in is in testing theories and peeling back layers to reveal what lays beneath."  His grin widened at the prospect of the game of metaphors and double-meanings deepened.  Maybe he just liked to make her blush?  She'd gained confidence, but still seemed sometimes fragile and uncertain.  Shared adventures had seen her grow and learn to master herself.  Why are you always so hard on yourself?  He still wasn't sure.

"I don't know that I'd want to go back."

Images flooded Freyd's mind of a scene from his deepest nightmares: a guild hall devastated by unimaginable flaming carnage and destruction; a friends' list of names stricken and transferred to some cold marble monument; his heart broken in despair.  The same recurring dream, for weeks now, and in vividly sharp details like no dream should or could ever be.  Everything he cared for devastated in an instant.  Sights, smells, sounds, and pain that no algorithm could properly or possibly suppress.  Focus on the now.  Kneeling down, her helped her collect the scattered bits from off the floor, luring Borris away with a flick of shadow from his wrist.

"I feel like that's something I really needed, and if I'm being honest. I don't know that I'd want to go back."

"I'm glad you've found that, though I can't help wonder why you needed it so much in the first place.  As to leaving here..."  He closed his eyes, those same memories threatening to overwhelm his weakening control.  "I resigned myself to staying here a long, long time ago.  There was nothing for me out there when I left.  Only one thing I've since found could ever convince me otherwise, and she's in here. Unable to find more words, Freyd's eyes oddly avoided hers instead, the admission forcing his heart hold its next beat. This sort of honesty was hard.  She'd never seen him look so uncertain and... vulnerable.

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  ♪  Two Lost Souls  ♪  

 

After some coaxing, Borris had reluctantly reformed into a sequence of stones that wrapped around her wrist. After a year of their meeting, she still hadn't concluded whether or not having a shape-shifting companion was really more convenient or troublesome.

"Fun?  Yes.  But part of the amusement in is in testing theories and peeling back layers to reveal what lays beneath."

"Freyd!", she exclaimed with an embarrassed squeak as her features flushed even further. A gentle slap to his shoulder was her best attempt to banish the implication. Elora shook her head and smiled as she rose to her feet and covered her face. At least having her familiar pressed to her cheeks offered some cool respite from the heat.

"I'm glad you've found that, though I can't help wonder why you needed it so much in the first place."

"I was desperate for validation, probably still am. The real world doesn't reward you for failing, and it got even harder to want to try the more that I did." Elora could so easily return to her post-grad headspace. It was a time of turbulent change and terrifying uncertainty. How was she supposed to get accepted into university without passing grades? Who would want to hire her as a listless adult with a complete lack of self-sufficiency? Her mind started to churn at the prospect of confronting it all.

"I resigned myself to staying here a long, long time ago.  There was nothing for me out there when I left.  Only one thing I've since found could ever convince me otherwise, and she's in here.

Elora could feel her initial discomfort begin to fade as her chest rose in response to a deep inhalation. "You don't want to leave either?", she needed to say just to hear it aloud. So it's not just me then..., she sighed with the release of a held tension. Elora looked away, mirroring his gaze to distract herself with some invisible vanishing point. Speaking proved difficult for awhile; each attempt to transcribe her surprise silenced by the biting of a lip. She raised a gloved hand to comb her fingers through the sections of hair that trickled between them. "I...", she managed to articulate from a crack in her voice, "I don't know how long we'll have -- we'll beat this game one day, and we'll be free. I don't know...what's gonna happen..." Her stomach sank at the thought of being torn from the game, of returning to her waking life, and of never being able to see him again. "We might not be able to return --", her words broke off as she willed herself to face him. "If that happens, I want you to know--", she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him toward her, "I'll do whatever I can to find you." 

Cradling his head with the back of her hand, she drew him closer and into a kiss. Her worry was palpable, carried clearly between waves of subdued whimpers and staggering breaths. For as much as she protested against returning to waking reality, it became obvious that losing everything she had experienced here was a far more visceral fear. I don't know what I'd do without him, without Katoka, without Firm Anima, all of it --. 

"Damn this game", she swore with a sniff, "We were never supposed to deal with this. I just wanted to live -- I don't want to think about when it's gonna end..." Nails dug into his neck and back as Elora collapsed into his chest. The shell of feigned contentment was forced to crack as unresolved desperation flooded to its surface. She chided herself to force it down, to conceal how much it was capable of devouring her. Until this point, it had been easy to play along with everyone else's objective -- to scale Aincrad and defeat Cardinal. It was what she thought she was supposed to want, for herself and especially for others. If there were players like Freyd who didn't really want to leave, then what was it all for? Her eyes widened as realization dawned. He isn't fighting to escape. He's fighting for everyone else. It seemed so obvious to reconsider, but so wrong to fully accept. If he...if we both give everything we can to leave, then we're only charging faster toward the thing we want the least. Elora's hands withdrew as she pulled away, lifting her eyes to search for an answer inside of his own. Unless...that is what he really wants. He doesn't make any sense...what's the point of helping everyone else at the expense of his own happiness? As much as she tried, Elora couldn't understand it.

***
Vanity tag: @Katoka

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"You don't want to leave either?"

Either?  Elora was always especially hard on herself and kept praise and scrutiny alike at bay with pretense and aloofness.  As a subject matter expert, he recognized method in madness when he saw it.  Everyone always thought that Freyd being an appraiser was just some power move to gain access to the game's uber content, but they couldn't be more wrong.  It was to learn to study people, and ultimately himself.  Shackled in his own mind, it had taken efforts of Elora, @Katoka, @Freya, @Raidou and so many others to him find the key.  A few valuable lessons fell free along the way, teaching him a few things about the human heart.  A headshake signaled 'no.' 

"I'll do whatever I can to find you." 

Cradling her chin on the tips of his long, slender fingers while their lips embraced, he felt her shaking with uncertainty.  Deliberately, by breathing calmly and steadily, he sought to serve as safe harbour to her inner tempest, all the while returning her affections with equal and surprising passion of his own.  She feels the same!  Elation was palpable, his face disarmed like that of a lost child's joy at being returned to a loving guardian.

"Takeshi Sanamoto, Osaka, Japan."  It felt like a stranger's name and seemed painful for him to use aloud.  Maybe it was, given how much had happened and changed? "I believe you've already seen what I look like."  He jokingly jerked a thumb over his shoulder at his silent shadow admiring them both from afar, appearing to approve.  Part of him desperately wanted to ask her who she was, his lips parting to beg the question, but those words proved unwilling to be spoken.  Longing to know was blatant in his eyes, and so he closed them as she drifted down and nestled against his chest.  It's not fair to ask her.  She needs to choose that level of trust or she will run away from herself again.

"You know that I would find you too, if I knew who to look for."  A smile and hand caressed stray hairs away from her face. It was as far as he dared go: an opening without demand or expectation.

"We were never supposed to deal with this. I just wanted to live -- I don't want to think about when it's gonna end..."

Holding her close and tenderly, Freyd let her feel every emotion surging inside, but had never been willing to let out.  His heartbeat could serve as her anchor, soaking in everything she let out whether spoken, squeezed or even carved into his digital flesh.  He let his eyes do the talking, looking down into hers and reading through them to the soul within.  She needed to know that he was here for her in whatever way she ever needed. 

"I mean what I said: I would stay in here forever if it meant that we could stay together.  And I would fight my way through flame and every hellish landscape if all you ever wanted was to be held outside this world."  Three  more words hovered on his lips, hesitating to be spoken for fear that he wasn't worthy of knowing their meaning.  Yet, here she was. The same words he had shared with @Freya in the Forest of Memories came flooding back: Survival, alone, is just not enough.  Facing a thousand field bosses seemed easy by comparison, yet he barely managed to get the words out.

"I love you, Elora."

 

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"Takashi. That's a cool name.", he could hear her muffle from beside his shoulder. "But you're not doing me any favors being from Osaka.", she added with a chuckle, "I suppose it's not nearly as crowded as Tokyo, so I'll take those odds." She followed his gesture to spare a glance at his real-world representation. "I forgot how well the glasses suit you.", remarked Elora as she gave the doppelganger an analytical pass, "And I could get used to a few fewer layers around your head." A joking tug at his cowl followed that candid observation.

"You know that I would find you too, if I knew who to look for.", Freyd prompted her with a gentle caress.

It was a reasonable request, but one that she could immediately sense her psyche start to shy away from. Why are you like this?, a frustrated voice demanded to know. Another wave of worry began to rattle her from within. She could feel her heart begin to throb as a dull pain spread throughout her chest. I'm afraid. I'm ashamed., came a knowing response, What if he doesn't like you? The criticisms of an familiar source punctured like daggers, saturating her mind with a stream of doubts. You're not pretty. You're not smart. You're better as Elora. You're better here. Don't let him know. Elora could feel herself become small as she retreated from --

Illustration.png.17cddb348d4d563bf1d43d9a2c1ba563.pngBefore she could close him out, a determined embrace. Caring arms wrapped around, enveloping her body in a warmth that felt so unfamiliar, yet so deserved. Caution failed her as a deeply-held fear seem to dissipate at his touch; not for how it felt, but for what it communicated. Acceptance, she could feel herself admit. How long she had wanted to be seen and to be loved for what she was, whatever that truly looked like. With Freyd's understanding, Elora willed herself to deafen the onslaught of self-destruction. I'm enough. I'm good enough for someone. Turbulent nerves slowly drifted away to the steady beat of his breaths. It doesn't matter what you think -- I won't listen to them.

"I mean what I said: I would stay in here forever if it meant that we could stay together.  And I would fight my way through flame and every hellish landscape if all you ever wanted was to be held outside this world." 

Searing eyes regarded him with a gratitude she could never put into words. It would have been so easy to belittle herself, to feel pathetic for allowing all of her insecurities to come to manifest in such a dramatic way. But she was well aware that this hadn't been the first time Freyd had regarded her in such a vulnerable state, god knows it wouldn't be the last. A frantic hand raised to wipe away the teary aftermath of a still-healing heart. 

"I love you, Elora."

"Róisín--", she corrected him between the sound of choked sobs, "It's Róisín!" The elven player reached out, entangling her fingers between the folds of his cowl and yanking him forward. Her ferocity found to be excessive as she unintentionally tore through the seams of his cowl and sent his head on a crash-course toward her own.

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Note: "Róisín" means "Little Rose".  Freyd randomly gave Elora a small copper rose trinket when they first met, over two real time years ago.

Thread Closing:

All quotes copied between posts have been excluded from word count

Elora receives:

2125 EXP (Word Count [7595/10*4*0.7])
1913 col (1 page [400] + 15% P5 Reward [318] + gift from Freyd [1195])

Freyd receives:

7969 EXP (Word Count [7595/10*15*0.7])
0 col (15% P5 Reward [1195]) - given to Elora

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