[F02-PP] Better Late Than Never

[Freyd 0]

Change, they say, is never easy.  Freyd had no idea what that was supposed to mean.  People were weird in the way they clung to things because they were afraid to explore the unfamiliar or unknown.  Yet that was where he stood, himself, staring down at the capped opening to his former home.  It was a well, or meant to look like one, hidden away of yet another forgotten ruin on the edges of Angel's Point.  A lost hole in the corner of a lost floor, where no one would ever have thought to look for him or sought to bother.  The Liminal Blind had been his hideaway for years, pristinely minimal in style and clutter - sterile might have been a better term.  He could could on a single spider-fingered hand how many people had ever seen the interior, including himself.  But those days were gone, as was the Blind.  A smile swept across his hawkish features, the high arch of his slender brows curling outward to ease their usual harshness.  

Hardly the normal measure by which Freyd gauged any action, let alone his own, but things were changing.  He was changing too.  Wandering back out to wander among the bleached limestone ruins, a pang of loss drifted through his heart as he crossed the place where his pond and slime farm had once lain.  It was little more than a sloping meadow now, with wafting humours from beyond the city's walls carrying the same miasmic haze and odour of fungal decay that pervaded all of floor thirteen. Nostalgia failed to sink its teeth in, the lanky man just striding through on his way to the teleportation plaza, sparing only a moment to wave goodbye to Miri and Quaestor as they opened up their shop across the way.  He'd still be back, regardless, the cobbled mess of trays and tables that was Freyd Edges still remaining near the ruin's gatehouse.  

A single word and flash brought him to Urbus's central square, its bustling activity having become much more familiar in recent weeks, and certainly a stark contrast to the sparseness of his former home.  Wandering through back alleys, and stepping through a few shadows to throw off any potential tails, he would eventually reappear on the outskirts of the waterfalls looming over Witherwind Rest.  That same smile, having never once left his lips, was joined with a deep breath and sense of unfamiliar joy as he made his way down from the cliff face to the valley proper.  A handful of natural pathways, cast in the thin grasses by local wildlife, made the trek easy and pleasurable to hike.

"This still feels strange," he admitted aloud, standing only a few dozen feet from the newly minted manse, its rich timbers and soft lines emanating warmth and welcoming that spoke to the true meaning behind his words.  Home had never been a comfort before - within the confines of the floating castle or beyond.  But also good.  Right.  What else have I been missing all these years?

Turning the solid brass handle to the front door, a load was lifted from the Whisper's shoulders as he passed over the threshold.  A cosy welcoming sensation pervaded the place, fully credited to the passions that came so naturally to his partner.  Elora simply exuded a rawness of emotion which he still struggled to understand within himself.  He wanted to, more desperately than he had ever realized.  Placing a hand over the hidden broach kept over his heart at all time - the Shadowed Rose - Freyd sought to capture some semblance of that essence to carry with him.

"Elora?  Are you here?"  He'd left her puttering in her room while he was out, not quite sure what she was up to.  Both had agreed to settle their own chambers before tackling the common areas.  It was fairer to say that he had no idea where to begin when it came to those spaces, never having been one to entertain or dare to actually cook his own meal.  Past attempts had proven to be traumatic, especially for the cookware and ingredients.

***

Freyd | HP: 1160/1160 | EN: 154/154 | DMG: 21 | MIT: 45 | EVA: 4 | ACC: 3 | BH: 63 | LD: 6 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | REC: 8 | V.D.: 127

Note: CS (Shades of the Gemini) is in use.  If any other player objects to this, please state in first post and it will be considered inactive.

Spoiler

Freyd, The Whisper in Shadows
Level: 33
Paragon Level: 129
HP: 1160/1160
EN: 154/154

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 45
Evasion: 4
Accuracy: 3
Battle Healing: 63
Loot Dice: 6
FLN: 16
HLY: 16
REC: 8
V.D.: 127

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Samael's Pride | T4 MA | FLN 2 | HLY 2  
Armor: Black Cowled Traveling Garb | T4 CA | VD 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: Shades of the Gemini

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

Active Mods:
Night Vision
Tracking
Athletics
Emergency Recovery
Untraceable
Detect

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Focus
Precision
Nimble
Reveal
Stamina
Focused Howl

Active Extra Skills:
Disguise
Survival
Forgotten King’s Authority
Hiding R2

Inactive Extra Skills:
Meditation
Frozen Hide
Brawler
Photosynthesize

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystals x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+10% HP) x7
T4 Vitality (+16 EN) 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:  Shadowed Rose (ACC 3 | Para.Imm.) 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: n/a

Fishing: Level 5 | 576XP

 

 

Edited April 24 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

A dramatic hand raised to wipe the arch of her brow as Elora stepped back to admire the day's progress. There, she regarded with some sense of accomplishment, All unpacked. The result of her efforts would seem indistinguishable to the average home-owner. In a room sparsely occupied by furniture or decor sat one dilapidated bed accompanied by a neglected dresser. Nested in the corner nearest the window, the set appeared more like a flee market show floor than a young woman's dream interior design. As silent seconds of scrutiny stretched on, Elora gave a disgruntled sigh, So much space... The impression felt bittersweet. What she had only anticipated as a jubilant new beginning was starting to sour from the presence of...something. I'm not used to it, she attempted to rationalize, From living with mom and dad to spawning in the inn...I've only ever lived out of a tiny room. How'em I supposed to spread myself across an entire house... The feat felt intimidating, unearned even. What items did she own, hobbies did she pursue that were even worth taking up space?

"Alright, so --", she ignored her inner criticisms with hands clapping together to ignite the solution. Closet...I have a closet I can put things into. Shuffling across the floorboards, she arrived at the decorative but empty shelving unit. The past few years had found her in possession of many clothes. The kimono, my swimsuit, this one outfit, and that dress I bought in Snowfrost..., she listed as each was purged from her inventory and onto the wooden spool above. There's my potions, all of the herbs I've been collecting, and..., her finger scrolled through a menu of miscellaneous items and trinkets, I have no idea what any of this is, actually.

"Let's just put this here for now", she decided. With a single gesture, all of the shit was whisked away to the darkest chasms of her dresser. "Much better", she determined with a contented spin. It was only through the absence of collision that she realized the room was, just as she had previous arranged it, completely unoccupied.

A pressing thought occurred, eclipsing her intentions of tackling the task at hand. I need to check out the greenhouse., came the nagging reminder. Elora first made a motion toward the door before considering, Can I get there from the window? Curiosity propelled her like a magnet to the ledge, and after a simple interaction, she'd swung one of the panes clear open to serve as an escape. "Perfect!", she cackled mischievously as clumsy limbs hauled her past the weathered frames. It wasn't long before the eager player had settled on the best method of descent. Clearly, a tactfully-situated trellis would be the most ideal for climbing; they made them a good deal sturdier here than they did in real life. Wrapping her hands around a braid of clambering vines, Elora made her way safely down to the field below. I'll remember that shortcut for later., she proudly determined.

Winding cobblestone steps soon lead her to the skeleton of a glorified she-shed. The semi-secluded greenhouse was tucked behind a thicket of overgrown shrubbery, its paned facade facing the mountains to the west. Shaking loose the latch to a small wooden door, she slipped her way into the building. Sunbeams streamed from windows above as a narrow trough of water cast undulating waves of light against the teal walls.

Elora ran a gloved hand along the live edge of an expertly-crafted timber countertop. A series of steady taps at the end of its length proceeded her walk around the perimeter. Where to even start..., she pondered as eyes searched for the would-be homes of imaginary potions and plants. Her legs guided her to a immediate answer with a plop on the floor. Leaning back from that vantage, she allowed the magnitude of the project to disable her, if only momentarily. Maybe I just need to think on it more..., she provided the comfortable excuse.

 

***

Elora | HP: 700/700 | EN: 104/104 | DMG: 26 | MIT: 98 | EVA: 3 | ACC: 8 | BH: 35 | LD: 3+3=6 | 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: x1 Teleportation Crystal

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild:

Wedding Ring:

 

Edited April 24 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Peering through the shadowed bowels of a nearby potted fern, the notion that he was somehow invading the thing’s privacy, or hers, never even occurred to him.  Neither did the fact that ferns had no bowels, but they did have shadows, and that was all he really required.  It should have felt odd, he knew, gazing beyond sight in such ways; like standing on the far side of the looking glass to catch glimpses of this world from another. Yet, it never had. Like Takeshi in Simmone’s famed mirror, life felt more natural when viewed from such perspectives.

Hrm.   

Pondering why was never fruitful, save to disturb brief peaceful moments within an ever over-agitated mind.  The truth was 'Shadow', that irksome floor boss whose essence he’d touched during his very first  floor raid. Plunging his life-drinking blade into the flesh of a possessed minotaur legend had seemed a good idea at the time, and it had worked.  Freyd had never fully realized the price he would pay for that gambit, and was still discovering the truth of it. Beyond the marking of arrival to the front lines, the moment had been personally formative, along with many others, including those spent with the elfin-eared woman with whom he now shared a home.  

Our home.

A pang of something from inside set everything intangible tumbling with a warmth and gooey sense of uncertainty.  This was a new frontier for which Freyd had minimal experience. Elora was the expert on these grounds, but he desperately wanted to learn.  In this, she was his teacher, and he had finally come to realize how much that meant to him; how much she meant to him. Feelings don't come with manuals to be decrypted with codes or algorithms. Emotional epiphany had taken a while to process.

“Maybe I need to lay off having only Freya’s honey buns and black, vanilla-scented coffee for breakfast.”  Sure. Only he could possibly confuse the stirring feelings of an ever growing bond between them for indigestion. So naive.  Stray wisps of hair tinged like verdigris, a flit of pointed ear drooped with odd admixtures of self-doubt and resolve, the intoxicating scent of fragile uncertainty molding itself around a core of unfathomable passion. Beautiful.  All were familiar traits amidst a roiling, distorted blur.  Shadows were not precise, nor was any sight granted through their umbral underlayment.  But he knew her instantly in the dark, the memory of a head leaning against his shoulder beneath the boughs, and threats of Valentina's murderous threats, never having been forgotten.  Good times.

“Ah, there your are!”  Slipping with ease through the same viewport of nothingness, making it effortlessly serve as both window and door, it never even occurred to him that she might be enjoying a private moment.  Whispers were just bad with that sort of thing.

“Hey you.” he started chipperly and without warning, probably scaring the pants off her by appearing at her side with only the wafting of vanilla to announce his arrival.  “Are you settling in okay?”

Edited April 24 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

A spike of surprised was immediately lapsed by the exhale of relief. "Oh -- hi, Freyd", greeted Elora as her far-too elusive partner materialized from the shadows beside them. I always forget he can do that... "Yeah, it's going -- well?", the response had broken off with unmeditated second-guessing. "I got all my stuff unpacked, now I'm just trying to figure out what to do about this.", she gestured vaguely to everything around them. The undeveloped greenspace served as a scapegoat for, or perhaps more uncomfortably, a visual representation of, her own insecurities. Sure, living at the Hummingbard Inn was a boisterous hell, but it had undoubtedly enabled her to stay mired in her ways. Settling into this new place...it felt like being confronted by her own inability to change. And for as much as she wanted to ignore it, that possibility was no longer an option.

"I don't know where to start.", she plainly admitted, "How do you return to something you've haven't even started?" The question seemed turbulent and oxymoronic in nature, the kind of rhetoric Elora often found her emotions entangled in. Or maybe, it was actually the other way around. "I thought I wanted to be an Alchemist -- I mean, I still do, but I've put off setting up a shop for so long...And that has to mean something...So either I'm lazy or scared, or I'm not really interested --", she hypothesized as a continuation of "or's" rattled off in her mind. Lifting both hands, Elora brushed back her bangs to clamp either side of her temples. "It seems a stupid thing to be complaining about -- this is all I ever wanted." Issuing a confused sigh, she began to unfurl her posture and break from the inner conundrum.

"I completely forgot --", she gasped with a sudden perk to her demeanor, "How're you doing --? Have you been handling the move?" The belated consideration to check up on others was another behavior she struggled to override. Frequent streams of worry and distraction had a tendency to tow her away by surprise, making it difficult to suspend the ensuing ramblings in favor of conversational etiquette. She was relieved to have Freyd's understanding in that. No matter how caught up she became in action or emotion, he remained there. Nodding, listening, caring. In a lot of ways, she didn't deserve him -- No, he would be disappointed in her for thinking like that.

Reaching out, she quietly took his hand in her's. Whatever this next journey was, she wanted to take it with him. Tailspins and all. 

[Freyd 0]

Smiling and listening attentively as she recounted her day's activities, something glimmered silently at her from behind the blueness in his eyes.  His cowl sat loosely resting upon his shoulders, the shield it represented equally lowered in a rare and deliberate moment of vulnerable exposure.  Only with her.  No one else had ever  truly reached so deep into his core, nor convinced him that there was someone in there worth finding... and rescuing.  Could that be the magic that had led them here, together?  Reflections glanced his way in the nearby window.  She is my opposite, staring back at me from the far side of the looking glass.

"I don't know where to start. How do you return to something you've haven't even started?"

There it was again, always present just below the surface.  Where he clung to the slightest semblance of fleeting feelings, hers ebbed and flowed like a tide, ever threatening to overwhelm.  

"I have no idea."  A plain admission and also honest truth delivered with mild chuckling.  "This is just as new to me, too. Think of how sparse and sterile my old place was. I haven't the slightest clue how to live a life I've never allowed myself."  Chasing off her doubts with smiling eyes and nod to the negative, he chuckled softly at their shared absurdity.  "Don't worry about it.  Just let it be."  Soothing her anxieties as best he could, it thawed his natural chill the moment she took his hand and reminded him of a recent impulse.

"Oh," he added with a growing nervous grin, "I might have scrounged a little something to help get you started.  Call it... inspiration."  Cheeks burning like they'd be lit by Cerberus' breath, a conjured bunch of ruby roses manifested in his hand.  "I found these at the base of the cliffs on my way back, clinging to an outcrop and misted by the spray of the falls.  I... Róisín..."  Words croaked and failed him as a lump caught in his throat, having no idea what he was doing, but hoping it was right.  Is this how it works?  Ugh... I'm probably doing this all wrong.  She'll prick herself on the thorns or something. This is so fucking...

"I'm completely lost," he blurted out, deepening his blush to nearly purple.  It wasn't like Freyd to be so far beyond his calm and calculating self.   Nyahhh... so embarrassing. 

"I feel... exactly like I probably should?"  Blinking realization as the words stuttered out in slow staccato.  "Maybe that's the whole point?  Right?  Maybe that's what we both need?  To let whatever happens happen, and accept that neither of us knows what we're doing? We're both going to mess things up - and that's okay.  Let's just promise that we will both try and keep trying, always."

Swallowing the lump as best he could and depositing the flowers in a nearby vase with his spare hand, only then did it become obvious how clammy his palms had become.

"Maybe... maybe starting with something small, and simple would be best?  Have you... uh... eaten?"

Edited April 25 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

Elora's ears flicked upwards as her eyes ignited with unbridled excitement. "The wild roses!", she shouted with arms shooting forward to accept the gift, "I've been keeping my eye on them and waiting for them to bloom--" A chain of memories too long to recount was quickly curtailed as she shoved her entire face into the heart of the bouquet. With one comically large inhale, she drew in her breath to savor the sweetness of their scent. If she were a cartoon character, the buds would likely be shooting out of her ears. "One of the few things they managed to get right...", she sighed contentedly. Pulling back from the arrangement revealed a swath of pixelated pettles plastered across her face. Elora seemed none the wiser as she beamed from pointed ear to pointed ear. A brief squeeze of his hand freed Freyd from the inadvertent death grip that had ensued since the start of the escapade.

"I'm completely lost,", he began just likely as his blood had continued to flow, "...We're both going to mess things up - and that's okay.  Let's just promise that we will both try and keep trying, always."

Elora couldn't recall a time where the stoic player had seemed so uncertain. Are we making a mistake by doing this? The brief flash of worry was rapidly bludgeoned back into her subconscious. He feels the same. He's just as uncertain., her mind attempted to reframe the discussion. 

"Maybe starting with something small, and simple would be best?"

"Have you..."  "Yeah! --" "uh...... eaten?"

"Oh -- no -- I heaven't. Eaten.", she frantically corrected. A few blinks stretched over seconds of silence before she suggested, "What should we make? We have a kitchen -- we should make something, right? You know how to cook? I can make -- hash! Boxty too, I'm great at those!" Surely, that was something to be impressed by. 

Edited Monday at 12:41 AM by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Laughter filled the room as Freyd nearly busted a gut at her suggestion.  It took a while before he could even mouth any words.

"Haine tried to teach me to cook once," he finally eked out between gasps.  "I used a sword art on a bunch of veggies and nearly destroyed half her kitchen."  A cautionary wave of his hand dismissed any notion that he knew the first thing about the valued trade, or that he was making any fun over her suggestions.  "Pre-packaged meals have been the norm for me, for as long as I can recall.  If you say you know how to make these things, then please teach me.  I'll do my best not to nuke our new home while peeling the potatoes."  It was a pure guess, regarding the ingredients, hoping that playing to Irish stereotypes might actually net him a win.  

"Come on," he requested with the gentlest of tugs.  "Show me all these special talents you have hidden away.  I can't wait to learn."  Barely taking a simple step towards the door, Freyd paused and looked Elora in the eyes, his eagerness still bubbling, but shelved for a moment's consideration.  "And, hey, there's never meant to be any pressure here between us. I just really want to spend time doing things like this with you, especially those that matter most to you. I've spent too long being laser-focused on game-related goals since we've been in here.  This is a chance to learn to live a little along the way.  You've taught me how important that can be, but I need your guidance along the way.  I hope that's okay?"

An earnest smile spread over his simple features, their sharp angles slightly dulled by uncharacteristic warmth and exposure to deep reservoirs of sincerity normally kept concealed and off limits to the world.  Don't be afraid, Elora.  I just want to see you shine by being yourself.

[Elora 0]

"YOU WHAT?!", Elora exclaimed, her bouquet nearly splatting into smithereens on the ground.  

"Pre-packaged meals have been the norm for me, for as long as I can recall..."

"They have for me too -- but I haven't tried to use a sword as a COOKING UTENSIL!", she stressed as if saying the words louder would attribute more sense to their application. "You need to learn how to prep properly, good god --" Elora intercepted him, lacing a hand around his arm to tow him up from the floor.

"Show me all these special talents you have hidden away.  I can't wait to learn.", he encouraged in a singsongy way.

"It's not a talent Freyd, it's using the right tool for the job --", she huffed, her mind still struggling to come to terms with the throwaway example. Could he actually find a way to NUKE our kitchen with a potato peeler?? Well I suppose if he uses a goddamn warhead to mash it --

"And, hey, there's never meant to be any pressure here between us...", she sicced her attention back to whatever he was saying, "I just really want to spend time doing things like this with you, especially those that matter most to you..."

"You have no idea what you're getting into --", she jested with a few raps of the roses against his chest, "I'm boring as hell, or I'm out somewhere about to get myself killed. There's no in between." Maybe that second admission was a little too on the nose. "What I mean to say is, I have no idea what I'm doing each day. I don't know why I'm waking up, I don't know when I go to bed. At least your life has a little structure." The two of them entered into the house's ground floor, Elora's feet leading them one direction and then the next as she correctly recalled where the kitchen was situated.

"Now --", she began what felt like a makeshift introduction to televised cooking show, "Boxty is sort of like flapjacks, but a lot less sweet and a lot more savory -- it gets it's flavor and texture from one ingredient." A pause for dramatic effect; Freyd was undoubtedly at the edge of his seat. "Potatoes!", she revealed with out-splayed hands. The still-held bouquet was nearly launched into a projectile as invisible studio members ducked for cover beneath their imaginary seats. "We don't got a need for peelers here, and it's not like we've got leftovers mashed from the night before.", she continued her instruction, "So we'll make some potatoes grated and some potatoes mashed -- you can handle the mashing, I'm sure."

A stack of spuds were thrust into his hands before she'd even finished the sentence. Elora'd always made sure to have some on hand for emergencies like this. "While you're doing that, I'll get all the other shit together", she determined with a resolute nod.

[Freyd 0]

"It's not a talent Freyd, it's using the right tool for the job --",

"...and a tool is only so good as its wielder's skill and devotion," he added, finishing the thought while gratefully accepting her assistance.  Listening as she dissembled and downplayed her own way of living, Freyd simply shook his head dismissively.  "My life has too much structure. Even though I go to lengths to keep it changing, my constant focus on business lends to its predictability.  You would never normally find me doing... this.  Which is precisely why I need to do so."  A strange sense of serenity pervaded Freyd's words as he spoke them, laden with an equal measure of yearning for the unknown.  The spark behind his eyes mirrored her features as they gazed upon Elora with joy.  She'd given him the same thing he had promised to give to others: hope.

"So... boxty is... potato pancakes?"  He had no idea what flapjacks were supposed to be, and so gave it his best guess instead. A handful of spuds were thrust into his arms before any further clarification could be obtained.

"While you're doing that, I'll get all the other shit together."  An eyebrow raised. I really hope she doesn't mean that literally.

A quick tactical analysis determined the optimal angle of attack.  Freyd was about to devastate his first tater when Elora gave him one of those 'you're kidding right' kind of look.  "Oh, right... gotta skin the things first."  A grimace mixed with consternation wrinkled and twisted his features with confusion.  "Don't they have a self-peeling variety?  Seems like a design flaw, at least in this world."  A mental note was already made to scour Aincrad for potential potato monsters that might better fit the bill.

As the last grated traces fell into the bowl provided to him, Freyd eyed the sole remaining spud with a festering sense of mischief.  "Mashed, eh? Seems you might have missed one."  Denying any time for protest, his art had been building since the previous spud met its maker, turning in tiny narrow strips. 

"Here.  Let me help a little." Cupping his hand around the tuber, Freyd focused the energy inward at his palm, momentarily wondering whether microwaves worked on a similar principle.  The results were definitely kin, spraying baked mash in a cone aligned directly with a pair of startled and widening blue eyes.

[Elora 0]

The starchy aftermath grew ever evident against the marooning backdrop of Elora's face. Where Freyd may have expected shrieks, he was instead greeted by an unnerving silence. A prolonged stare would soon reveal subtle tremors that lapsed into uncontrollable shakes from sticky head to splattered toe. Steam may as well have been sizzling off of her skin as Elora made one swift motion to hurl the egg she'd been holding into the kitchen ceiling above. What could have been miscalculated as a stray attack would soon find its way from the rafters onto the head of the wryly player. In a moment's notice, she'd utilized the diversion to dash behind the central island. He's not going to win that easy -- not in my house!, Elora seethed with a fiery determination. As soon as she was under cover, she made an inventory of her surroundings. Flour -- not far from me, milk -- on the opposite side of the counter, oil --, she couldn't waste time yoinking it from her menu.

Using whatever stealth advantage had been afforded to her, she slinked from where she'd hidden back to beside the livingroom wall. The feign had seemed successful. Freyd was no longer standing there. But...was that really a good thing? Ah fuck --, the realization occurred, He's got his sneaky shadow shit, how the hell am'i gonna compete with that? Glancing down to her wrist, she formulated an aid. Borris! Snapping what was essentially the rock golem's skeleton from its conjoining vertebrae caused the little critter to unfurl from her wrist.

"We're going after Freyd.", she whispered to the string of magnetic pebbles. One had to appreciate the speed at which her familiar fashioned his usual headstone into a station for sharpening sequential appendages. "Not like that --", she found it necessary to clarify, "He's somewhere in this house -- I need to get him back for --" A motion to her face would explain enough. Carefully, she peered over the edge of the polished slab. The room was empty, save for a single ominous, oozy trail toward a vague destination.