[F01-PP] delicadeza, i. <<the first lesson>>

[Andromeda 0]

this is how an walks into the fourth biggest tragedy in her life: crouched on the floor of her rickety old shop with her legs tucked in, the beginnings of a pout on her face as she scrolls down a long list of unavailable contacts. why is she on the floor? she had noticed she had never left her recliner since she woke up nine hours ago, so she'd hopped off, only to curl up into a ball once again as soon as she finished a quick lap around her shop.

a week has passed since new aincrad came to be, and rather than sailing out the door with her heart racing at the prospect of an entirely new world to learn (and ideally leaving her shop behind forever), an has spent all of it cooped up inside, chipping away at a pile of identifications that never seem to get any smaller and learning the new things that came to the merchant profession with the update and doggedly teaching clueless customers who want to know – why isn't she rolling a specific enhancement as many times as before? what do you mean the system now includes rerolls? but the problem isn't that she has too much work. the problem is that she is self-employed, financially able to miss out on at least a month's income, and she can literally just close up shop and turn on a couple message filters.

the problem is that new aincrad is too much.

she doesn't know if it's only her that is feeling this way. her! she thinks of memorizing the entire town again, retracing the routes that lead from one popular landmark to her shop in the backstreets, of building up a new catalogue of her favorite hangouts, the last one packed up and sent off to wherever cardinal had tossed the old stuff into. she thinks of an entirely different world interposed on top of the one she already knew and she never wants to leave her shop ever again. 

but she can't keep going on like this! she fumes. at least one of the things she hates more than… this, is being stationary for too long. an has been trying to find people who hold the same opinion, but they are all out living it up in the combat zones, it seems. an isn't bitter, she just wants to be invited to the party.

so she closes her contacts window for a bit. an looks back up at her workbench, the pile set aside for today's identifications. then – it’s still so big?! – she shoots up to her feet and books it to the pile. "crap, crap, crap, IT RESET EIGHT HOURS AGO!!" 

a little time passes, and her work only looks a little less intimidating than before when she jolts again, the thin chain of a salvaged trinket spilling from between her fingers. it is a sound this time, the bell at the end of the world–

mishiro: i can make time. what is it?

the only girl she feels the need to write an entire business email for.

an: thank you so much! i just remembered that you mentioned once, you never took the tutorial quests. i'm in much the same boat but i actually want to clear it now, to acquaint myself with the changes in the system. if you haven't had the opportunity to do the same, it would be wonderful if we could team up! we are way above this floor's level, so safety shouldn't be of any concern.
an: -xo
an: ps. i've cleared the first lesson but not the rest. i can walk you through that one and then we'll do the rest normally. if you need it.
an: -xoxo

LEVEL 20: HP 430 | EN 58 | DMG 8 | MIT 50 | ACC 1 | STEALTH -5

Spoiler // escorting only. ++ stamina. reduces en cost of all attacks by 2. focus. decreases minor critical threshold by 1. also reduces dot thresholds by 1. fighting spirit. attacking or using howl or focused howl generates +1 additional hate.

 

Edited August 16, 2023 by Andromeda

[Mishiro 0]

the merchant girl has been typing for twenty minutes straight -- mishiro leaves her to compose her dissertation in peace.

her pen resumes its original course across the paper, copying over her earlier writing with a steadier hand. she is in the storage room on the second floor of luther's residence, temporarily converted into sibyl's study. every invaluable thing its owner had chucked in here to be forgotten was carefully packed into crates, and the crates stacked one on top of the other, pushed up against the walls, freeing up enough space to summon a meeting table and three stools, that when pushed back all the way, could barely afford anyone leg space between their person and the trays of documents, newspaper clippings, and unfinished maps currently being housed underneath the room's centerpiece. they had gathered here earlier, for the first time since the dawn of new aincrad: sibyl standing beside the door with their eyes closed, luther in the stool in front of them, and mishiro at the farthest end, her arms stretched out across the papers on the table, the heat of the sun warming her back. 

the sole agenda of their meeting was the construction of the new house and mishiro's attached café. progress on all ends was slow, which falls entirely within her expectations: she hadn't even inquired into the possibility of setting a soft deadline. for her part, with a distressing lack of other things to busy herself with, she is shouldering as much of the load as she can. today, that entails tidying up and writing notes. she makes it a quarter of the way down the first page of three on the cleaner draft before her hand starts trembling and she resorts to straightening out the papers they had brought out earlier instead. when the soft bell of a received message finally arrives, she has almost put their short exchange out of her mind entirely.

an makes a tempting offer, though mishiro is curious why it took her nearly half an hour to write a single paragraph. true to an's memory, mishiro hasn't taken the tutorial quest and previously didn't have any reason to once she started to grasp things on her own. but with the storm bringing great change to aincrad in both environment and mechanics, there is no safer place to regain one's bearings than in a quest expressly designed for it. she pulls up the interface's keyboard, about to type up a response, but the texting bubble appears once again.

and it doesn't stop. she watches in mild amusement as three more messages appear in quick succession. it brings up the mental image of an, behind her counter, or at her workbench with a pile of those unidentifieds that she loves so much, or draped across a random crate of junk in her shop, tapping at her keyboard with that vigor reserved for things she finds most enjoyable. mishiro waits for more follow-ups, and when none arrive, she writes her response.

mishiro: i'd be glad to join you.
mishiro: now?

an: HUH
an: OH i
an: mean yes, now!!
an: (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ
an: mish, thank you thank you thank you!
an: go here. xxx:yyyy. the one with the fountain. where you comin from?

the fountain, she says? luther loves his street views. mishiro does not have to pull up her map to confirm the coordinates of her current location, not when she could walk backwards and be greeted with a topside perspective of the very same scene an sends her a picture of, but she likes her confidence backed on many angles. 

mishiro: already there.

Лишь дай мне посмотреть в последний раз В твои глаза Я солнцем обернусь, и в них Останусь навсегда

Spoiler // LEVEL 17: HP 340 | EN 52 | DMG 7 | LD 6 -- -- COMBAT MASTERY: DAMAGE III EXTRA 1 + 2: FIRST AID V + ADD-ON: FIELD MEDIC EQUIPMENT: Spoiler vanguard's timepiece T1E3 TRINKET. LOOT DIE III [ref] time after time, meine zeugin. a silver pocket watch. within the circle of its chapter ring is a façade of clear glass, revealing the timepiece’s inner mechanisms. > [acquired] BUFFS: Spoiler berry crumb bars [172788] T0E3 DESSERT. LOOT DIE III tart crumbled and held knitted together by jam and cut pieces of berries. chewy, crumbly, complex. mild. > [acquired]

Edited August 22, 2023 by Mishiro

[Andromeda 0]

an: ???????
an: ok, i'm running!!

so an thinks she nearly takes her poor shop's door off its hinges with how fast she slams it open. she wheels around to bump it shut, the plaintive tinkling of the door chimes in her ears as she speeds off in a run, nearly crashing into a bunch of disconcerted passersby. her hat's ended up lopsided from her rush to put it on; she fixes it upon reaching an alley between two shops lined with large frontal windows. she's not going to be late for something of her own invitation! she's not!

mishiro: be careful.

and her quest partner does not have aaaaanything to say about it. rapier out, the building glow of a sword art, then... boost! up she goes to land, a bit wobblingly, on a walkway some meters above her head. an's energy ticks down. 

truthfully, she is ecstatic. girl kicking her feet and screaming into a pillow kind of giddy, except she's channeling it all into a run instead. it's not that hard to cheer her up, at least in the moment, and it is no secret that one of an's favorite things to fantasize about is the idea of going on the archetypical adventure with a party of traveling companions. this comes pretty close, or at least it feels like a daunting endeavor if weighed against the indolence of the past week. 

so she doesn't dare slow down, lest the opportunity flee her. not until she reaches the plaza, which is surprisingly lacking in the usual late afternoon foot traffic. it naturally follows that the ambience is more peaceful. the air is cool; she can hear the rushing of the water in the fountain, the background murmurs of the few people milling about, the very faint sound of wagons rolling past on the nearby street. overall, a scene that an is suddenly anxious of barging into. she does have to stop then, and pat down the flyaway edges of her clothes and hair. her excitement sobers down some as she places herself behind the corner of one of the buildings framing the plaza.

it's hard to spot mishiro in a crowd. she's sure mishiro is not doing it on purpose because she doesn't seem like the type to have anything to hide. but say you're already with her and you lose her somehow: you spend the next five minutes fruitlessly retracing your steps and squinting at every dainty girl that passes you like a total creep until one of them notices and gives you a glare that makes your soul wither because you hate people glaring at you, familiar or not, and so you flop onto a bench and send her a dm and you have a second to recognize the ringing beside you as a notification chime before a stranger whom you and everyone else thought you needn't put a name to places her hand on your arm -- and oh, there she is! she's also on a bench.

right in front of the corner an had been hiding behind. she hadn't thought to look so close. maybe an is just dumb, but she's now well and thoroughly spooked.

mishiro has her back to her, head slightly bowed, and an... an waits. 

and if the stillness of the image in front of her is disturbed, it is only because a breeze passes by and disturbs the girl's hair. there is a flower, an iris?, that is slightly off-center from the back of her head, its stem beginning to unwind from the strands; imperfect, as if mishiro had done it up herself without the aid of a mirror. unexpected. as quietly as she can, an leaves her corner and walks round the bench. 

"hi?" the word leaves her mouth without her thinking. then the guilt hits her full force and more words leave her mouth without her thinking. "i'm so sorry."

mishiro's eyes are closed, the fingers of her right hand curled around an open notebook on her lap. an hears the rush of the water from the fountain behind her. "did you do something wrong?"

"uh. d-depends?!"

had she been... sleeping? but even before an talked, mishiro's posture was too upright, the rhythm of her breaths too controlled. an tries to look closer and compare, but then mishiro opens her eyes and she has to immediately shift to pretending that the empty bench space beside her is the most interesting thing in the world.

"what is it?"

"the--the extra three messages!" an blurts out, feeling the flush creeping up her neck. her brain is vanishing -- perhaps she should have let mishiro alone, an certainly didn't know how to interpose herself between her and her peaceful stillness authentically. it was just a tutorial quest. she could take it herself. she's scrambling to put together the words now that she's started and all she can snatch up are the weird surface thoughts. "from earlier? i'm so sorry. came off the wrong way. but, listen. i must've put out a dozen feelers and you were the only one who ever responded, so. i guess i was just so happy i couldn't think? i really neglect watching my words sometimes, even if it's just--" an tries to meet her eyes at least once, but then her gaze lands on the open notebook instead, which mishiro quietly flips shut. an's heart drops. "--in writing."

"i accept your apology... if that's what you want to hear," mishiro says in an even tone. which is its own nightmare, an has no idea what it indicates and she can't turn anywhere else. the girl is equally indecipherable to in every aspect. "but i didn't really see a problem with it. i'm used to my friends speaking to me in that manner, and even if i weren't, i'd at least understand where you're coming from. i think you're worrying about cultural differences when we're already long past that."

an's mouth falls open. "we're friends?!"

the two fall utterly silent and an wilts beneath mishiro's placid stare. well, it's not that she thought they weren't, but mishiro was the sort of girl you wrote business emails to--

"ahahaha, sorry! i-i mean... you helped me out plenty before," an blubbers. "and i'm trying to help you, so i. uh."

mishiro graciously cuts in. "i believe we'd both find assurance in a mutual agreement." now, at least an can tell her voice is sharper. she's found the root of the problem and she's going to take a knife to it. it's just as terrifying. "an, would you like to be my friend? the benefits include texting me however you want."

Edited August 25, 2023 by Andromeda

[Mishiro 0]

this is a strange way to start, but one really does not know what to expect with andromeda -- eternally scatterbrained merchant girl. the world could literally end and an would still be apologizing over the most inane things she can think of. it’s only good fortune that this hard left turn landed them someplace meaningful.

she didn’t know there was a misunderstanding. she’s trying not to be too rigid with her criteria for friendship. it’s not that complicated, she concluded years ago in an entirely different world when a group of students adopted her, a complete foreigner, into their clique, and there are at least levels to it. she and an aren’t close, but they call on each other when they need it and she likes an’s company. it’s just a surprise to her that it’s an who’s lagging behind.

case in point, an’s entire face turns as red as her hat. she opens and closes her mouth, kind of like a goldfish, and her fingers twist among themselves so tightly that they turn pale. a strangled sound escapes her mouth.

mishiro has those few seconds to internally fuss over the possibility that she had just said something the poor girl thought too forward, but an soon rallies herself and puffs, “okay, sure! we… we definitely already were, but it doesn’t hurt to clarify.” 

she says, as if it were her idea in the first place. mishiro is not bothered, but this is where she’d crack a teasing smile -- hey, think i can’t see what you’re doing?

“so we should also talk about you…!”

“me?”

an’s eager stare clues her in that they are supposed to be in agreement over something. but, no. she really can’t follow.

“you know, the benefits!” an fists her hands in the edges of her sweater, determination flooding her down to her stance. mishiro is utterly lost, but she lets it happen anyway. “like the texting thing. do you, er, always talk like that? oh. oh, you do. ahahahaha, i mean, i don’t have a problem with it personally, and i can’t possibly ask you to adjust for me, after we just became, um. clarified that we were always friends, but is this really you letting--“

“excuse me, ladies?”

“you’re not excused!” an yells.

and freezes. then she spins around and gasps. “no, nevermind, i’m sorry!”

she is easily forgiven. despite the dwindling number of players at the beginner level, floor one has stayed true to its image as a homely starter town, even after aincrad’s reset. its resident npcs are exceedingly kind and understanding of foreigners. the image of the man that just approached them is elderly and dressed in a dignified manner, and largely unoffended. it shakes its head, as if to wave off an’s apology. “no, i believe it is i who should apologize. i was in such a hurry that i did not realize the two of you were having an important conversation.”

perhaps she should have asked an to sit.

“no, no, no!” an waves her hands in the air, still flustered. “it’s fine. did you need something?”

“my name is dorian, and i am the mayor of this town. i am in need of some assistance and you both appear quite capable.”

a quest! mishiro vanishes her notebook and watches player and npc with mild interest. she’ll likely decline, but she won’t rid an of the opportunity. on the lower floors, these things aren’t usually time sensitive. with an nodding along, the mayor launches into a scripted explanation of what it needs done: debt collection -- and it’s a wild goose chase, no less. she just has a few questions.

“you couldn’t hand this off to someone you’re more familiar with?”

an whirls around to face her. “mishiro!”

“understand, young miss, that i have been an official of this town for years,” the mayor proceeds calmly. “i know that i am in charge of a good and upright citizenry.”

“but you’ve no errand runners of your own at this very moment? my friend here has been a resident of this town for years, and i am sure she can attest to everyone’s character also, but i want her to feel secure in her home, knowing that her city’s affairs are being run in an orderly--“

“mishiro, wait, wait, wait!!” 

and so sudden are the hands grabbing her by the shoulders that she ends up pinned against the lean of the bench, stunned into silence. an isn’t even putting much of her weight into it, she just hadn’t expected that anyone would be attempting to physically topple her. mishiro peers up, past the curtain of an’s duckfluff white hair, as the merchant girl bares her teeth into a feigned smile at the npc. “please don’t mind my friend. it’s really, really no problem at all. we accept and we’ll be back with the money asap!”

the mayor doesn’t comment, falling back into its scripted dialogue. what happened just now is irrelevant, apparently. “excellent. now i believe you should start with zackariah, the alchemist…”