Jump to content

[PP-F01] A Place to Call Home


Recommended Posts

The world was spinning. Elora's mind felt scattered, suspended in a sea of staticky sensations and nauseating frequencies. A dull hum thrummed through her ears, compressing her head like a severe congestion. She could feel her form crumble as it morphed into something piercing, a violent cacophony of needles and screeches. Why am I here?, she pleaded as her conscious tried to pry itself from the painful nightmare. Before she could escape, her chest seized with a sudden constriction. It was as if a hundred stitches had synched shut from a single tug. She gasped for air --

and clawed off the blanket that covered her. Blurry sights failed to clarify as she stumbled forward, her legs soon meeting with the cross-beams of a small wooden chair. She buckled forward, weight failing to find support in the wobbly piece of furniture. It quickly clattered to the floor beside her. Surroundings gradually stilled as the startled elf began to regain her faculties. 

Room -- I'm back in my room -- 

1504319250_ScreenShot2023-11-08at2_47_51PM.png.b592386715bcc894aee17693154e6214.png

She laid for a moment and examined her vitals: heart racing in her chest, lungs feeling winded with every breath, limbs shaking in a cold sweat. I'm alive --, she assured herself, I'm ok -- 

It was more than she could confirm a moment ago.

A stream of tears prompted a swipe of her eyes and the visitation of a tiny familiar. By now, Borris had already rushed to fulfil his supportive roll. In a series of seconds, the rock golem plunked off the bed and rolled across the room to assist in whatever way he could. Usually, this meant spiraling around in a panic until she managed to get a word out.

"Morning, Borris...", she greeted after a strenuous heave separated her back from the floor, "Sorry for the commotion..." Downplaying the incident did little to quell the companion's nerves, or at least, whatever it was he had that generated such a concerned response. "Just gotta get up a little slower than before...", she reassured with a sigh.

Ever since the raid, her night terrors had only gotten worse. At first, it had been easy enough to wake each morning, drink her tea, and begin her day like any other. Now, it seemed like their effects were becoming harder to shake off. She felt more exhausted, more anxious than before.

A screeching kettle called to her attention.

When had Borris lit the fire? Gathering her wits, she stood up fully to remove the vessel from the heat. Boiling water swirled spices into a sienna-colored concoction as Elora considered what to do next. "I think I'll visit Freyd today.", she remarked as the fragrant tea drew close to her lips, "He always has a way of making things better."

Finishing her beverage, she embarked on the familiar path to his residence on Floor 13. 

***

Elora | HP: 700/700 | EN: 104/104 | DMG: 26 | MIT: 98 | EVA: 3 | ACC: 8 | BH: 35 | LD: 3 | AA | BLGT: 32 | FLN: 8 | REC: 8 | STK: 40

Spoiler

Elora
Level: 32
Paragon Level: 6
HP: 700/700
EN: 104/104

Stats:
Damage: 26
Mitigation: 98
Evasion: 3
Accuracy: 8
Battle Healing: 35
Loot Dice: 3
AA
BLGT: 32
FLN: 8
REC: 8
STK: 40

Equipped Gear: Teleportation Crystal x1

Weapon: Essential Verdigris (T4 Dem Polearm | AA | Blgt | FLN | STK)

Armor: Defense Mechanism | T4 Demonic Light Armor | MIT 2, REC 2

Misc: Emerald | T4 Demonic Trinket | ACC III, EVA I 

---


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:

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild:

Wedding Ring:

Edited by Elora
Link to post
Share on other sites

Few people knew the interior of Freyd's personal abode, and with good reason.  Firm Anima's spymaster had no shortage of enemies, overt and obscure.  It was an occupational hazard to which his erratic personality was well suited, yet most just thought him paranoid.  Both could be true.  His first furtive forays from the Town of Beginnings would only have confirmed it.  So much had happened since his face-off against himself.  How deeply dipped in foreshadowing that he'd faced off against his gemini during his first quest. 

Feet dangling over the edge of a carefully manicured opening, Freyd stared at the perfectly still pool below.  Stray pink petals from the wisteria trees surrounding his personal fishing pool drifted slowly passed, the rarest and bravest daring to perch upon its mirrored surface.  Resulting ripples marred the sublime serenity of the scene.  More importantly to the object of his current focus, the image of the other Freyd wavered like some poor projection on a failing, antiquated monitor. 

'How apt,' he thought to himself.

881933798_OrnateFishingPond.jpg.8b24ea9d6bfe875ebff05214ef20b637.jpg

The Liminal Blind was built as the symbolic border of the prison world that was their present reality.  Most dreamed of reaching through the looking glass and returning home.  Freyd saw something else.  Simmone's mirror had hinted at the truth, but he'd been too distracted by Tuatha's tale and Takeshi's revelation.  The silhouette below, with features likewise buried beneath a cowl of secrecy, stared back.  Sterility in the modern style, the influence of his father's academic obsessions, had dominated his home's designs despite his best intentions.  Takeshi hated his father, whom he saw as an egoist and narcissistic tyrant to busy preening about his own intellect to notice his own irrelevance.  Imagined Montjoy's voice mentioned something about pots and kettles in the recesses of his mind.  They didn't actually speak much these days.

"Mood."  Barely whispered, the word captured the essence of the man as well as Freyd's displeasure.  "The mood of this place is all wrong.  It's all him, and not... who I want to be."  Flashes of running in the forest, strange dance-offs with elves over dragons, the warmth of steady slumbering breaths and wisps of verdant hair leaning restfully upon his shoulders.  The infectious giggle of nervous or anxious uncertainty mixed with the wanton randomness of whim and chaos gleaned behind a pair of bright, blue eyes burgeoning with growing confidence.  A certain scent of tea permeated his thoughts.  Closing his eyes and blocking out the Blind, Freyd could smell it through the memory, unless... 

"Wait a sec..."

Turning his hood towards the clattering shamble of stones at the outer gates of his monastery home revealed Borris, harbinger of his mistress' arrival, the lonely figure sitting feeling wrong about a setting of his own making suddenly felt a lot better.

"Heh.  I was just thinking of you... well, you, actually," he added pointing over the rolling rock pile towards Elora, lest her familiar think a little too much of himself.  A smile spread beneath eyes that twinkled with something much cheerier than his suddenly forgotten ponderings.

"What a pleasant surprise."

***

Freyd | HP: 1180/1180 | EN: 152/152 | DMG: 23 | MIT: 103 | EVA: 2 | ACC: 4 | BH: 64 | LD: 5 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | REC: 8 

Spoiler

Freyd, of the Freyloras
Level: 33
Paragon Level: 122
HP: 1180/1180
EN: 152/152

Stats:
Damage: 23
Mitigation: 103
Evasion: 2
Accuracy: 4
Battle Healing: 64
Loot Dice: 5
FLN: 16
HLY: 16
REC: 8

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

Combat Mastery: Damage R3
Combat Shift: AOE
Familiar Skill: Grappling Familiar
Custom Skill:


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

Active Mods:
Night Vision
Tracking
Meticulous
Emergency Recovery
Untraceable
Detect

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Ferocity
Precision
Resolve
Reveal
Stamina
Focused Howl

Active Extra Skills:
Disguise
Survival
Meditation
Forgotten King’s Authority

Inactive Extra Skills:
Frozen Hide
Brawler
Photosynthesize
Hiding R2

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystals x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+10% HP) x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+10% HP) x7
Crystal of Divine Light (Reusable) x1
Rhino's Horn (Reusable) x1
Hmr.Pk: Hope's Covenant - Resolve +4 (T4 Demonic Weapon (MA) - AA, Phase, Frostbite, VO) x1
EWL: The Thing Behind All Lies (T4 Demonic MA, AA, Blight, Static, Para.Ven (Off)) x1
EWL: Dagan Crystal-B (Reusable) 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)
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.
Skylight (Searching): +1 Rank to the Searching skill.
Angler: +2 Fishing EXP per attempt
Practiced Angler: +2 Fishing EXP per attempt, addition +1 LD/CD to fishing attempts
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 [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:
Tanos Statue: +25 Mitigation for a thread.

Wedding Ring:

Fishing: Level 4 | 461XP

 

Edited by Freyd
Link to post
Share on other sites

Borris briefly bulked up in pride before promptly rolling forward and plummeting into the pool below. He liked to test death like that.

"Oh gosh --", Elora chimed up as feet carried her to the rim of the recess, "Did he just dive in --? I'm gonna have to collect him later..." For a moment, she'd adopted the semi-frustrated, but mostly haggard, expression of a parent with a runaway toddler. Plopping to a seat beside her partner, she belatedly recalled his greeting. "Hi", she replied succinctly. He'd only said 'hello', hadn't he? "I'm glad that I can rely on you to be up during any time of day" The observation was made in earnest. Sometimes she worried about whether or not he was getting enough rest, but most of the time, she was glad for the opportunity to call on him at a moment's notice. 

With an exaggerated groan, Elora stretched back to sprawl across the grass. Her legs extended, then swung into a series of gentle kicks as they came to drape over the ledge. "So, no work today? Work already finished? Work...about to begin?" She thought that'd cover all the options.

A series of plunks and splashes resonated through concrete tunnels below, a sure indication that Borris had begun the endeavor of attempting to skip himself across the pool's surface. Never a quiet moment with that one.

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Don't worry about it," Freyd replied casually.  "Persi's probably already skimming the bottom of the pond, teasing him with her flaring eyes in the darkness.  She can be quite the tease... just about always, actually."

"I'm glad that I can rely on you to be up during any time of day"

Head bobbing with a snort, he was about to deny it when he realized that there wasn't much point.  Part of him wanted to rouse a defense about occupational hazards, or somesuch, but Elora deserved better.  "Yeah.  I'm, uh... working on that.  It's not really the sort of habit you can kick overnight."  A sliver of smirk caught the edges of his lips at the phrase.  "I used to think it might be possible to train yourself to ignore sleep in the game.  To an extent, it is possible, the effects inevitably catch yup with you.  Everything has a price."  Spoken like a true appraiser.

 "So, no work today? Work already finished? Work...about to begin?"

"There's always work.  Never.  And, always?"  A quick flick at the back of his head pulled off the trademark cowl.  Elora had earned the right of removal through patience and endurance of his insatiable edginess.  She needn't ever ask.  The barrier would just be gone whenever she needed it.  Freyd looked better than he had in the past.  His gaunt paleness finally had a hint of colour.  Maybe the beach time had done him some good?  "Regardless, I'm always available when you need me.  So, what's up?  Just out for a stroll, or hoping your familiar will drown himself so we can go hunt for another?"  The pond below burbled and swirled as a whirlwind of stones chase after azure-eyed shadows.

Edited by Freyd
Link to post
Share on other sites

"I used to think it might be possible to train yourself to ignore sleep in the game.  To an extent, it is possible, the effects inevitably catch yup with you.  Everything has a price."

"Can't say I've done the same intentionally, but yeah, I've only been able to stay up a couple of days before it got to be too much." A few weary blinks welcomed memories of multi-day questlines when rest could only be achieved after hours of searching, sparring, and other at times, escaping from their exhaustive objectives. She smiled as echoes of 'FIND THEM! I WANT THEIR SPLEENS!' seemed more like cartoonish satire than an actual lived experience.

That was one of the things she loved about this world. Every day was so different. By contrast, her earlier days now left her feeling remorseful. How much time did I waste hiding at the Hummingbard? How many more people could I have met, adventures I could have had, if I had the confidence to leave? The thought had begun to sour her already-sinking spirit. She moved to ask him about his work.

"There's always work.  Never.  And, always?"

"So...yes?", she concluded after delayed sputtering attempted to decode that answer.

"So, what's up?", Freyd started to ask, "Just out for a stroll, or hoping your familiar will drown himself so we can go hunt for another?"

Elora laughed at that assumption, her mind struggling to search for a feasible way in which Borris could actually die. "No", she finally answered, "I just...needed somewhere to go. I haven't been sleeping very well, so it was no use going back to bed." The reason served as a reminder for Elora to rub her tired eyes. "You know how it is though", she thought it best to add, "Most people hang around until the early hours. Things don't usually quiet up until morning." With another viable explanation, there was no reason to worry him about the recurring nightmares.

They're only dreams, and sure to go away., she reminded herself, And besides, I'm not a child.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Maybe it was an unintentional byproduct of the skill, or maybe just Freyd's own personal extension, but he'd always examined people in much the same way as he did the treasures they brought him to evaluate.  Elora had always been a diamond in the rough, in his eyes, and woefully undervalued, principally in her own eyes.  With careful nudging and encouragement, he'd gleaned glimpses of the prize that awaited her at the end of her journey.  it was a gift to watch someone come into themselves - like watching a rose gradually come into bloom.  In this moment, however, it seemed as though the artist struggled with her work. 

His next hurdle was expressing those concerns.  Some people couldn't contain their emotions and spent their lives awash in their tides.  Freyd was quite the opposite.  It took conscious effort for him to fathom his own feelings, and doubly so to actually express them.  While well-suited to the function of a spook, it made simple acts of connection and relationship many times more complicated than might otherwise be necessary.  Fortunately, a morning of pensive meditation over the pond had left him well-prepared.

"Hey," he started, softly, while gently placing his hand over hers and she sat next to him.  "Is something bothering you?  Maybe keeping you from sleeping?"  Easing of his constantly stern semblance was about as close to sympathy and concern as he could instantly display.  It wasn't a look that came easily to his features, though the expression was genuine.  Slight tensing of his hand signaled a level of caring no others had ever earned, even asthe light bulb flared invisibly over his head.

"A good friend of mine recently put me on to this particularly soothing blend of tea," he chuckled, summoning a pair of white porcelain cups better suited to coffee, yet somehow perfect for the impromptu nature of the moment.  "Maybe she'd appreciate a taste in return?  I might have sought it out and stocked up on the stuff since I last saw her."  Truth was, he'd filled half his inventory capacity.  Moderation in collecting was never his strong suit.

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Is something bothering you?  Maybe keeping you from sleeping?"

Elora could feel a worry swell within her chest as fingertips twitched in response to his touch. For as outwardly as she expressed her more volatile emotions, she had a surprising tendency to hold those most vulnerable close to her chest. Where she had previously struggled with admitting her weaknesses, she now needed to consider the wellbeing of those who cared for her. It's nothing different than before., she tried to rationalize, I didn't want them to know how much I sucked at things, but...they accepted me anyways. I'm sure they'd want to help me with whatever I'm struggling with... An unwitting sigh was enough to indicate that she was overthinking again. They'd probably rather know, even if it's weird.

"A good friend of mine recently put me on to this particularly soothing blend of tea,", Freyd followed after her notable hesitation, "Maybe she'd appreciate a taste in return?  I might have sought it out and stocked up on the stuff since I last saw her."

As if summoned by the sound of the glass, Elora rose up from the patch of grass to assume a seat beside him. "I'll never say no to tea", she accepted with a more sing-songy attitude. Just like that, her mood seemed to swing back to its perkier disposition. At least, to a superficial degree. It was still evident that something weighed on her mind as she sipped from the cup that brimmed with a steaming antidote.

After several motions quickly drained most of its contents, she shifted to place a hand atop his knee. "I don't know how to explain it...", she began with tensed features, "But I've been having...these really weird dreams." A nervous swallow offered more time to consider her explanation. "I've had plenty of dreams before...but nothing like this...they come almost every night, and I'm worried they won't go away." Her warm touch grew clammy as she retreated to cusp both hands within her lap. "I think -- maybe I'm just having a hard time after the boss fight." 

Another administration of tea found her eyes meeting with his. "Have you...had anything like that before?" There was a strong possibility that it was all just an overreaction. Maybe her mind was still adjusting to the stresses of newfound responsibility. Surely that was enough to cause any fighter a handful of sleepless nights.

 

Edited by Elora
Link to post
Share on other sites

Listening to Elora recount experiences drew instant parallels to his own.  Freyd also hadn't felt right since the raid either.  In his case, it seemed rooted in longstanding issues made to resurface by contact with the void in Wushen, and other similar encounters since.  Something about that darkness always called to him.  Montjoy was its most obvious manifestation, yet he had fallen strangely silent of late.  It would have taken a lot for Elora to give voice to these concerns.  She had demons of her own, he'd come to learn, and their clutches drained confidence and any sense of self-worth.   She meant too much to him to ever let something like this slide.  

"Yes, I've had some troubles of my own since the raid, but we've already dealt with that.  Tell me what you're feeling.  What do you see, in these dreams? What do you recall?"  Topping up her tea again, he'd keep the fluid flowing for as long as might be needed.  Her body language spoke volumes to her discomfort, the signs having been well-learned over time.  This was big, and bothering her badly. He could tell.  Turning to better face her, Freyd legs folded in a lotus form beneath him.  All around them, shadows bent and leaned in as if to better listen yet also blot out any potential for distraction.  Elora became the focal point of tenebrous cocoon, even as shades gathered round doing so only in a strangely soothing manner.  It felt as if the world was gifting them a muted place of privacy and safety where secrets could be spoken without fear or consequence.  Freyd maintained her hand upon his knee and kept his over hers.  His touch was tender and soothing, waiting without push or pressure.  "What is it that's bothering you?"

Link to post
Share on other sites

Elora's brows rose in curiosity, then furrowed with concern. "Well...", she began with fidgeting fingers, the mug-full of tea now planted firmly beside them, "It's been all sorts of things...A lot of times, I can't see or hear, I just feel...paralyzed." Her blue eyes grew colder for a moment as they recounted something distant. "There's always a sense of dread, some sort of wrongness that I can't shake." A steady breeze caused ashy willow branches to billow and sway overhead. "Once and a while, I hear voices, or see a shadow. It's like someone is there, but I can never make out who." 

Freyd could feel a faint stinging in his knee as Elora's fingers had inadvertently clenched around it. "The most unsettling part about it all is the feeling -- it's -- it feels more real then here. Almost as if I was back." Eyes finally turned to make contact with his as she searched for a reaction. He's going to think I'm crazy. "I don't know how to explain it -- but, there's so much pain --  Her opposing hand lifted to rest above her heart. For a moment, she could almost feel the sting of this morning's dream. "I try to get away, and that's usually when I wake up." Despite her efforts to remain calm, her voice had begun to shake with a palpable fear. "And that's when it goes away, the pain.", she tried to conclude on a more dismissive note, "I don't feel it anymore after that."

Having described the details as best she could, Elora hastily redetermined to continue consuming her drink.

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Has this only been since the raid, or did you have these dreams before?"  Freyd spoke slowly and deliberately, pacing out his words with sips from his own tea while his mind parsed and pondered.  Breathing in the vapours streaming from the cup provided added calm and clarity of focus.  He'd have to thank Elora for finding this blend once this was all settled. "I don't want to dredge up more bad memories, but that sounds a lot like what I would have imagined Shadow's flood to have felt like.  We never really talked too much in detail about that."  He looked pensive, possibly uncomfortable himself.  "It wasn't something I thought I should pry into, unless you brought it up."

Eyes drifting down to the bits of leaf floating as future dregs in the tiny pool of brown water lingering in his cup, he ventured another possibility.  "My only other thought is that this is something from before... before SAO, I mean."  He dare not meet her eyes as he spoke the words, convinced that she would only retreat.  For all their heart to heart conversations, Elora... Róisín... had always been very coy about revealing anything of her prior life.  "You've shared your name with me, and home, but little else of who you were.  Is there maybe some connection?"

It was Freyd's turn to fidget now, deliberately mimicking her actions so that she would understand his own uncertainty without having to speak it.  For all her strength, there was something at her core that still innately sought to disable her from within.  Was it trauma?  Any probing would be sensitive, possibly dangerous.  She came to me. If not now, when could I ever ask such a thing?

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Has this only been since the raid, or did you have these dreams before?"  

"Before.", she answered succinctly, her hand finally releasing its grip under his.

"I don't want to dredge up more bad memories, but that sounds a lot like what I would have imagined Shadow's flood to have felt like.  We never really talked too much in detail about that."

"Yeah...", she started slowly, allowing her mind to drift back to that dark day, "A lot of the sensations are similar. Except, instead of drowning, I don't know -- I feel more like I'm just...deteriorating." Is that the proper word?, she wondered as her mind struggled to articulate. Another noticeable pause prompted Freyd to suggest a relation to her life outside of SAO.

 "...Is there maybe some connection?"

"Hm", thought Elora. Considering the possibility, she spent some time sipping away at her tea. "Well, I didn't exactly treat my body well back then...A fair amount of smoking, more than a fair amount of drinking." She shot him a sarcastic smile. "Maybe my liver's finally just kicked the can." Her attempt to alleviate the situation was thinly-veiled and ineffective. "If that was even the case --", she continued more seriously, "Why would I be dreaming of it now?"

Reassessing Freyd's features made her wonder if she should change the subject. Unlike before, he seemed to fidget and divert his attention away from her. Was this topic especially hard for him? In actuality, it was probably his shift away from stoicism that made her second-guess what she shared. In some ways, he had become even more difficult to read than in the early days of Aincrad. "I'm sure you've thought about it", she said looking his way, "So what's your theory? Has time stayed the same? Are we sitting right where we were when we logged on?" Elora's eyes seemed to light up as she listed off each question. It was as if the proposals were more playful thought-exercise than potential morbid reality. "Or do you think the world is moving on without us? Like we're all just stuck in comas?" A faint spat of indifference followed her final guess. "Maybe they found me at my friend's, using her NerveGear." The remark caused Elora's hand to shoot up and anxiously scratch at the back of her neck.

Link to post
Share on other sites

A shiver ran through his form, akin to a flicker or trick of the light.  Instantly his false fidget was gone, its purpose unfound and therefore abandoned.  In its aftermath, Freyd's neutral, piercing gaze had re-affixed itself to his features.  Clinically methodical, his machine brain had suddenly kickedinto high gear at hearing her words, searching his seemingly bottomless memory for clues to match the symptoms before him.   Strange how he never blinked in this mode.  It was as if his humanity was suspended for the sake of focus and priority to other, more cerebral functions.  It was nearly mob-like in how it strayed to the uncanny valley.  Those who knew him the longest would recognize the signs of 'old Freyd' from his earliest, most introverted self.  It was often unnerving, said to pierce into the soul if you looked back at him directly.  

"Well, I didn't exactly treat my body well back then...A fair amount of smoking, more than a fair amount of drinking."

A mild grimace. 

"I can hardly claim to have been the most conscientious on health care myself, though a certain degree of relentless parental badgering impressed some useful habits.  My dad was a real drill sergeant about routine, including a mandatory exercise regimen.  I might as well have been in boot camp from the time I could walk.  If I'm honest with myself, the sense of order it carried likely drew me to it by default."  Elora's casual dismissal failed to dissolve the possibility running rampant through his mind that this might be the onset of some bodily failure outside their common prison.  Without a frame of reference or any ability to verify, the discomforting possibility floated stillborn to plague his other thoughts and was eventually dismissed. 

There is nothing you could do about it, even if true. 

Such a cruel existence.

"So what's your theory? Has time stayed the same? Are we sitting right where we were when we logged on?"

"It seems impractical and unlikely that time is passing at the same speed here as outside.  Whatever is happening, society simply couldn't move fast enough to find, let alone care for all of the afflicted players in the short period since we became trapped.  Some - more - players' bodies would have failed, if that was the case.  It's impossible to know for certain, but my guess is that time is moving much more slowly outside, if 'outside'. exists.  The other possibility is that we're not even us at all, but merely copies of our consciousness shunted into this world for the sake of some twisted experiment, or Kayaba's sadistic pleasures.  Maybe we're just mobs with different bells and whistles."  The muscles in his jaw clenched as he spoke, belying a tension in meaning not evident in his voice.  Freyd was angry at the very thought, but tightly controlling those emotions. 

Do I tell her?  Could I even do so?  She could never handle it in this state.  Every time I've even tried to suggest the possibility everyone has inherently and instantly dismissed it.  Even her.

"Think of it this way: do we even actually know that we can die in here?  What evidence is there that we can?  That Kayaba himself told us so, and a corresponding name appears on a prominent marble slab whenever it happens?  Everything we supposedly know about our outside existence has been told to us by our jailor or falls to our own... 'memories'."  He looked as though he was about to use another word instead.  "We don't even really know if we are the 'us' each of us thinks we are from that world."  Something was stirring in him as he spoke.  Tone and volume remained perfectly calm and steady, but there was anathema behind his eyes - and intensity bespoke for this topic alone.   "No - I believe only one thing: that we are who we choose to be right here and now, and that the rest is as real and as useless as a whim in the wind."

"Maybe they found me at my friend's, using her NerveGear."

He nearly missed it.

"Your friend's..."  Pupils dilated as slender black brows rose through even his rigid control.  "Elora...,"  then more quietly, "...Róisín... do you believe that you are here by mistake?"

Link to post
Share on other sites

I should have dropped it., Elora thought as she witnessed him revert to something cold, whether it was shock, apathy, or simply retreating to familiarity, she couldn't discern. Most likely, it was a combination of even more emotions and experiences she didn't understand. Reaching out, she chose to fill his cup in turn. It was an unspoken prompt and indication that she wanted to listen to whatever he had to say.

"I can hardly claim to have been the most conscientious on health care myself, though a certain degree of relentless parental badgering impressed some useful habits..."

There's the stuffy vocabulary, she noted. It wasn't condemnation, just an earnest observation.

 "My dad was a real drill sergeant about routine, including a mandatory exercise regimen.  I might as well have been in boot camp from the time I could walk...", he declared.

Elora's lips drew to a line as her mind recalled a similar upbringing. In a lot of ways, her mother had been the same way. There was rarely a time when missed lectures and failing grades had went without a screaming match. Her father on the other hand, he'd hardly even acknowledged her in the shadow of her scholarly sibling.

"If I'm honest with myself, the sense of order it carried likely drew me to it by default." 

Another remark that bolstered conflicting memories. She could see her childhood bedroom, it's warped wooden floorboards carelessly buried beneath a sea of trinkets and clothes. It was almost gratifying to test them, to embrace was she'd become. "stupid", "lazy", "a waste of potential". Her eyes drifted down to the concrete well below. Now still in the aftermath of their familiar's swimming sessions, it seemed almost unworldly, devoid of any indication that it was influenced by the lifeforces that surrounded it. Not even a single leaf dared to disrupt it's pristine surface.

"...Whatever is happening, society simply couldn't move fast enough to find, let alone care for all of the afflicted players in the short period since we became trapped..."

Elora's focus snapped back to the conversation at hand. Freyd had a point. Surely, they would have seen a percentage of players drop off from the perils of their parallel dimension. Then again, maybe would have never woken up to begin with.

"The other possibility is that we're not even us at all...", suggested Freyd. Her body had involuntarily begun to lean it as it considered the possibility. "...Think of it this way: do we even actually know that we can die in here?", he continued, "...We don't even really know if we are the 'us' each of us thinks we are from that world..." 

"Huh.", she remarked, her body eventually reclining as the realization washed over her, "I never even considered that..." It could all be a lie. Just like a dream. We could do anything we wanted... The sentiment carried a certain lightness to it, a kind of peace that permitted her to to abandon her identity of the past.

"Your friend's...Elora...Róisín... do you believe that you are here by mistake?"

The illusion dissipated.

A once callous smile was now laced with regret. "No -- not a mistake.", she corrected, "It's what I deserve." The thought of being coddled by misguided sympathy made her feel sick to her stomach. "I heard she'd won the sweepstakes, it was all that our class could talk about.", she explained through terse words, "She was such --" A bite of her lip swallowed a burst of resentment. "I wanted to take it from her, watch her cry about how she couldn't get something handed to her for once in her life." Anger seemed to swell within Róisín as her freckled cheeks deepened from gypsum to crimson. "So -- I broke into her house -- they were all out to dinner anyway, celebrating another one of their children's stupid achievements. The thing hadn't even been turned on yet", finally, a crack in her voice, "I wanted to know if it would start --" She remembered the welcome screen, the invitation to claim her identity, the opportunity to become someone better. "Elora always did have a golden horse shoe up her ass."

 

Edited by Elora
Link to post
Share on other sites

Silence reigned along with it consort Stillness.  Freyd looked stunned at her revelations, blue eyes shifting back and forth as his mind sifted through thoughts and consequences telegraphing his manic thought process.  You could practically hear the gears grinding them, trying to reclaim lost cadence and restore the natural order of a clockwork mind.  Most would render summary judgment upon her for such revelations.  Who would do such a thing?!  Moral hyperbole so often governed human response.  But not Freyd's.  Halting the tick and tocking motion of his flittering gaze, he'd quickly come to his conclusion and laced it with a kindly, graceful, heartfelt smile.  

"I'm glad you did it," he confessed with muted breath.  It was a purely selfish claim, sincerely stated with bluntness softened by the care worn into the edges of discerning eyes.  "Otherwise, we would never have met.  And I am terrified to think of who or what I might have become without you."  His voice cracked halfway through delivering the words, forcing him to clear his throat and purse his lips shut as he finished.  Raw feeling coursed through him  in waves, threatening to overwhelm with power far stronger than anything he'd ever faced before.  They sought to swallow him whole - just like the darkness.  Looking to the well and pool below, what first seemed like avoiding her gaze was actually an excuse to stare through Montjoy, the shade sprawled out beneath him like a marionette still tied to its strings.  Freyd knew better.  The void amidst the silhouette cast on the water was clearly looking back, as if waiting hungrily.

"It doesn't matter why you did it."  She caught a glimpse of him glancing back at her from the corner of his avoiding stare.  "Not to me.  Not now, nor ever.  It only matters that you're here and that our journey through this world brought us closer together."  Something told him he should feel ashamed, but he refused.  She's earned some respect and praise, damnit.  Not the condescension she thinks should be heaped upon her.

"Some would call it: destiny, the  hand of fate or simply the greatest of good fortune.  I don't care which applies, if any, or even none.  You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, ... Little Rose."  Turning his eyes again to hers, she saw the fierce fire of his resolve.  Every word was earnest and unconditional, declared with utmost conviction.  She could see it clear as day.  He'd take on any challenge, break any and every rules, and pay any price to keep what they had found.  It meant that much to him.  She... meant that much to him. 

I've already done so much worse than anything she could admit to in this moment.  Are these doubts the demons that haunt her in her dreams? 

In that moment, he wished those doubts and nightmares could be made into mobs and vanquished.  If only so that peace of mind were truly that simple to grant or achieve.  

"You are amazing, and far better than you ever let yourself believe. Your passion is blinding, whenever you allow yourself to let it shine.  Don't shade it with self-doubt.  Never think less of yourself because anyone else ever told you that you should, or because you somehow feel yourself unworthy.  We all fuck up.  Every single one of us, every day.  And, if pinching 'Elora's' prize in a pique of envy is what it took for us to find each other, then I will be forever grateful that you did."

Link to post
Share on other sites

"I'm glad you did it...", began Freyd. Fiery tension bled from Rose's features as her eyebrows raised in surprise. It was as if the other player had just reached out and snapped his fingers in front of her face. "...Otherwise, we would never have met.  And I am terrified to think of who or what I might have become without you." Her cheeks continued burning as her eyes now stung with...What is this feeling? Frustration? Relief? Happiness? Love? Why did she feel so many conflicting emotions at once? She tried to still her racing heart as it struggled to settle on a single response.

Freyd insisted, "It doesn't matter why you did it." It does. "Not to me.  Not now, nor ever..." Denial caught in her throat. " ...You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, ... Little Rose." How was she supposed to respond? Tell him he was wrong? 

"It was wrong --", she refuted, "No matter how much she hurt me, I shouldn't have let it get to me." Two trembling hands rushed to banish the tears as soon as they appeared. "I can say that I saved her, but that wasn't my intention. If anything,", she felt difficulty in admitting, "I'm glad it was me. And -- isn't that kind of messed up?" A sudden laugh escaped from her lips. "Everything's all twisted up." Good deeds are punished while bad deeds go rewarded., was all she could think. It became impossible not to marvel at the irony of it all. "I don't know who I'm supposed to be anymore."

"You are amazing, and far better than you ever let yourself believe...", reassured Freyd, "...Never think less of yourself because anyone else ever told you that you should, or because you somehow feel yourself unworthy. We all fuck up.  Every single one of us, every day.  And, if pinching 'Elora's' prize in a pique of envy is what it took for us to find each other, then I will be forever grateful that you did."

She couldn't help but smirk in response to that remark. For as much as she regretted that night, part of her relished to imagine the look of shock on her aggressor's face. "I guess we all can't be good all the time, or, most of the time...", remarked Elora, "Thank you, Takeshi." His name still felt somewhat foreign to her, like a pronunciation she hadn't quite gotten the hang of. Reaching out, she laced her arms around his neck and gave him a gentle kiss. "Thank you for letting me ramble --", a thought occurred to her, "You're like my little trellis, always giving direction to grow." 

A somber pause gave voice to an earlier topic. "You don't have to be like that, you know. Feeling like you'll be abandoned if you ever step out of line... He hadn't made the claim, so perhaps his father's rigidity had been mirrored in her own upbringing. "It's hard enough be yourself, let alone the version of yourself everyone else wants you to be." Both of her arms retracted until only her hands remained cusped around his shoulders. "As long as you're happy with who you are, that's all I want for you."

Link to post
Share on other sites

"How did she hurt you?  Nothing else I've said will change, but I'm curious."  It was too rare a chance to glimpse into the person behind the mask he'd never realized was there.  How many people wore some manner of the same disguise?  It wasn't actually a surprising thought or revelation.  Freyd wore so many that he'd always just assumed most people did - though not Elora.  Her masks were made of mood, in his former mind, meant to conceal her true feelings.  He'd simply never considered that hers might actually hide her identity in this way.  Convention expected outrage, but Freyd would have none of it.  He'd fought too long and hard to find himself to feel anything of the sort.  If anything, he felt greater kinship than could ever be explained in words.  The whole turn was borderline delightful, easing hesitation and constraints long held about himself and his own personal circumstances.  It have him hope, that she might one day understand and accept in turn.

"I'm glad it was me. And -- isn't that kind of messed up?"

"It's not messed up at all. Our previous guessing game aside, we've all been in here for a long time.  All of us have changed and been forced to consider new perspectives. Second-guessing actions from an altogether different you?  That really just makes sense.  I'd honestly be more surprised - and worried - if you didn't."

"Everything's all twisted up," she said, laughing in a semi-maniacal way.  "I don't know who I'm supposed to be anymore."

The smile persisted, but sadness reflected in his eyes.  Freyd had told her the very same thing about himself, not very long ago.  Had she connected those dots at the time?  When a mirror looks at another mirror, what does it see?  Her lips interrupted, flushing the pending image out of mind before it could take hold.  Instinct called to him to lean in, compelled to savour the sweetness of the moment and forego the darker thoughts.  Every such moment felt like her saving him from himself.  Perhaps they were saving each other?

"Thank you for letting me ramble.", her words stopped abruptly while Eureka dawned all over her face. "You're like my little trellis, always giving direction to grow." 

A flush of warmth and rose upon the paleness of his cheeks.  How apt.  "It feels as much like you encourage the trellis to stand tall, and give it reason for being."

"You don't have to be like that, you know. Feeling like you'll be abandoned if you ever step out of line..."

"I know.  That revolution is far behind me now.  It's just strange to spot the moments when his influence resurges. My father's most important lesson was to be aware of what he was and why I chose to reject him.  But any child will struggle to find their identity in the absence of a role model.  Where do you turn?  What do you choose?  What signals moral right from wrong?  We turn to other examples around us."  It was clear that he meant her, at least in some fashion.  There were certainly other influences, most notably among their friends in Firm Anima.  "We emulate the best of them in ourselves."

"It's hard enough be yourself, let alone the version of yourself everyone else wants you to be."   Her hands drifted to his shoulders as she withdrew, albeit just a short distance.  "As long as you're happy with who you are, that's all I want for you."

"I'm happy with who you make me want to be.  And it's what I want for you as well."  

Looking at the polished surface of the pond, below, Freyd flicked a loose pebble from their perch to mar its stoic stillness.  "This place carries too much of who I was: Takeshi as his father wanted him to be.  It's cold and sterile.  I want life.  I want vibrant, messy chaos held in equilibrium.  I want us!"  Blinking, it was as if the words had never fully formed before in his consciousness, lingering at the umbral edge of shadow.  His voice had grown in confidence with every spoken syllable, convincing him of the truth he'd just revealed to himself as much as his companion.  Features perking as the notion gelled and increase in appeal, he dove all in.  "Let's build a home for ourselves: just you and me.  Let's make it about who we both want ourselves to be, together."

Edited by Freyd
Link to post
Share on other sites

"How did she hurt you?", he asked curiously.

"Eh", she began with downplayed attachment, "We weren't exactly friends by the time that happened. Honestly, we'd grown apart over the past couple of years, if you could even say that. We went to secondary and our relationship just sort of...dissolved. She wanted to hang out with the kids who were going places. I was just sort of...baggage at that point." And no one else liked me. It was easier that way. With a heavy sigh, she added, "She would call me names, spread rumors behind my back, nasty things to distance herself from me as much as possible." After a moment's pause, she concluded, "I felt betrayed." The sentiment served little justification for whatever retaliation she'd unleashed. For as much as she remembered Elora's hateful words, Rose could recall an equal number of times where she had acted just as venomously.

With eyes closing tight, she tried her best to will it away. I'm here, now. Nothing else matters. Not the memories. Not the mistakes. A tender kiss quickly bolstered this realignment. In the embrace of her lover, her imaginary friend, whatever complimentary entity this world could have manufactured, she found contentment. 

"It feels as much like you encourage the trellis to stand tall, and give it reason for being.", he retorted to whatever dumb poetry had escaped her lips. She couldn't help but wheeze at the ulterior implication. Yes, Katoka would be very proud. The tender moment was reciprocated with equal concern as Elora attempted to reassure Freyd.

"I know.  That revolution is far behind me now", he indicated that consolation wasn't entirely necessary, "My father's most important lesson was to be aware of what he was and why I chose to reject him." Elora's head seemed to cock at such a puzzling idea. Maybe she'd misunderstood. He wanted Freyd to hate him? No, he wanted Freyd to become like him, which is why Freyd dislikes him. One of those interpretations must have been correct. "But any child will struggle to find their identity in the absence of a role model.", he'd continued, "Where do you turn?  What do you choose?  What signals moral right from wrong?" Especially when everyone else is so fucked up., thought Elora. Truthfully, there were very few people in her life that she would consider to have sound moral judgement. It became even more difficult to name anyone off the top of her head. "We turn to other examples around us." A blend of right and wrong. "We emulate the best of them in ourselves." A song and dance between ecstacy and oblivion.

She exhaled deeply, her mind now distracted by the minutiae of such a philosophical conundrum. Somehow, it now seemed even simpler than some of her own internal struggles. A pebble hurled forward from their resting place, scattering the image of shadows cast below. "This place carries too much of who I was: Takeshi as his father wanted him to be.  It's cold and sterile.  I want life.  I want vibrant, messy chaos held in equilibrium.  I want us!" 

Her heart fluttered at the admission. 

"Huh?", was all she could mutter in a twitterpated daze.

"Let's build a home for ourselves: just you and me.  Let's make it about who we both want ourselves to be, together."

"Ah -- sure!", she responded enthusiastically, her hands shooting up to form fists in front of her chest, "Oh -- uhm, might be one problem though, I sort of just gave away a bunch of my col to a new player. I still have a lot left, but, aren't houses pretty expensive?"

Link to post
Share on other sites

Listening to her admissions and explanations felt like it should be done in silence.  Rose was too often hard on herself, but he also noticed how she could swiftly turn dismissive and self-deprecating in her comments.  It was part of her tendency towards downward inner spiral that he'd found himself facing off against over and over against.  The look in her eyes when he bolstered her confidence and worth was utterly precious, like she'd never had the benefit of such support.  It made him want to wrap her in it and just keep her safe and contented - a noble and satisfying purpose.

A slim eyebrow raised in response to her concerns about funds.

"Do you realize that I just spent more preparing for the raid than most players have earned in their entire time here, several times over?"  A brief chuckle slipped his slips in amusement at how little his companion understood the vast quantity of wealth and possessions his obsessive hoarding habits had collected.  "Yeah, I wouldn't worry about it.  We can skip over those concerns and just assume that it's going to be just fine.  I will cover the costs.  Instead, we should probably start by thinking about where want this home to be, and what we want it to look like."  Glancing about their austere surroundings, Freyd was forced to admit that he had no idea what that should look like. 

"I built this place to suit who I was.  But I'm still struggling to figure out who I want to become.  How do I suggest what that person's home should look like?  What would you have it look like, El..."  

He paused.  A slender finger swept intertwined strands of verdant green bangs back to hook them behind her elfin ears.

"Elora?  Róisín?  What should I call you now without tugging on those memories?  I doubt the game will allow us to change your username, but... maybe when it's just us.  What would you prefer?"  Preferring to avoid having her dwell on those darker memories, he tried to focus her in the future instead. "And what do you want our new home to look like?"

Link to post
Share on other sites

"We can skip over those concerns and just assume that it's going to be just fine.  I will cover the costs.  Instead, we should probably start by thinking about where want this home to be, and what we want it to look like."  

She felt an initial relief, then a wash of uncertainty. "Oh yeah -- location...appearance...what we want to be...huh..." A gloved hand came to rest pensively beneath her chin. "Well, no offense to Mina, but I couldn't stand living on that volcano of a floor -- or Floor 5 for that matter -- that's the desert one, right?" A nod confirmed that to be correct. "And as much as I admire the beauty of the winter floor,", she added, "I don't know if I'd enjoy feeling cold all the time." By now, it occurred that she'd only listed places she didn't want to live. So, she closed her eyes and tried to envision something better. Away from the constant clatter and claustrophobic walls of her one-room apartment in the ramshackle inn. What would that be like...? For a moment, she remembered home. Not the house plagued by painful memories, but the verdant pastures of rural Ireland. "I think I'd like...to live by the mountains.", she stated wistfully, "Somewhere with valleys, forests, and streams -- places to forage and capture strange insects." The last suggestion, odd as it was, seemed to invoke a giddy smile. "What about you? Where would you wanna go?" She could only hope those wishes didn't conflict with his own.

"I built this place to suit who I was...", recalled Freyd., "But I'm still struggling to figure out who I want to become...What would you have it look like, El..."  He extended a hand to gingerly sweep the locks from her face. "Elora?  Róisín? ...What would you prefer?"

"Uhm...", she spared a moment to decide. Her brain swung between each possibility like a scale suddenly offset. "I'd prefer Róisín -- Rose if it's easier. But there's no reason to confuse everyone else." She felt guilty enough asking that much of him. "Besides,", she added truthfully, "'Elora' has grown on me. It feels more like a LARP character now more than anything" And I can dissociate enough.

"And what do you want our new home to look like?", he goaded gently.

"Hang on --!", she halted him with an open palm, "You've gotta tell me your preference too! How do I know which name you'd like to be called? -- And don't tell me it doesn't matter!", she preemptively forbade.

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

"Freyd," was his immediate response, spoken without a moment's hesitation.  "Though you say it with great tenderness, 'Takeshi' rings in my ear as if the name belongs to someone else."  A flush of colour and uncertainty rushed into his cheeks, unaccustomed to expressing that sort of humility, or maybe not with such abundant sincerity.

"There is a place I know, on the Eastern edge of floor six, away from the strange habits and practices of Amazonian Krycim and their counterparts in Senimoh.  It's... serene. The woods teem with life and might be well-suited to that alchemy you keep threatening to practice."  His arms shifted to protect his ribs, expecting an elbow to come shooting his way.  Katoka had taught him to be wary when making smartass comments.  "The locals aren't always the most fun to be around, though.

"Another option might be Florenthia, on floor eight.  It's neutral ground between the elves and treant, where both groups manage to live in peace."  A hand rose to trace and caress her elongated ears.  "I never did ask you about these, but maybe you'd feel more at home around the NPCs there?  The landscape is beautiful and also full of sylvan splendor.  Flooding can be a bit of a problem at times, though."  He arched his brows, worried that any lingering trauma from Shadow's blight might prove resurgent every time it rained.  "Err... maybe not."

"None of the other floors seem to fit the bill or strike the proper tone.  Most of the upper floors are rather drab or too exotic, except floor twenty-two, I suppose?  That would keep us close to the guild hall and the floor is mostly peaceful.  The lands around Taft could work?  Or do we go all the way down to Urbus on floor two?"  No single place jumped out in his mind.  "The only spot I can think of is a place I recently discovered.  It's a shrine called The Temple of the Three on the outskirts of floor seven.  The grounds had been defaced, but there was something... spiritual about it?"  He seemed uncertain, like even the stuffiest of words in his vocabulary couldn't quite convey the mysticism of the place.

Freyd just laughed and shrugged.  

"Maybe we just need to go find a spot for ourselves?"

Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
×
×
  • Create New...