[SP-F1] | Desperation in Agony | Inception: Part 1 |

[Milkers 0]

Spoiler

|Milkers| Level 1 |

|HP: 20/20|EN: 20/20|DMG: 1|MIT:0|

|Skills| Heavy Armor - Rank 1 - 6 MIT |

|Current Gear|

Weapon: None

Head: None

Torso: Basic Green Nightshirt (Vanity)

Hands: None

Back: None

Waist: None.

Underwear: White Trousers w/ Red Hearts (Vanity)

Legs: Brown Cargo Pants (Vanity)

Feet: Black Sandals(Vanity)

Accessories: None

 

     Mike lunged lunged up in bed, gasping for virtual air that he already knew didn't exist. Even in a video game, He thought. I can't sleep throughout the night. "What kind of sick joke is this?" After a brief sigh, Mike stood up out of bed. The virtual sensations of the rigid cold trickled up both of his legs like a million tiny spiders. Mike recalled a time before launch, when his son Carter, had mentioned that SAO would be able to replicate each of the five senses. A slight smile almost formed at the corner of Mike's lips. Remembering his previous life brings nothing but pain every single time. The gut wrenching pain. The never ending flame of regret... The constant internal suffering. He could never escape it. Not even for a few moments. As the sleep fog faded away, the current state of Mike's life came rushing back indiscriminately. There's no need to dwell on it. Mike grabbed his blanket from the floor, and took a few moments to fold it. But, it was too late. I knew that. A single moment is all it takes to send me back. Back to my carelessness. Back to Day 1... the day I lost my son.  

 

     "It could have been prevented." I told myself. "How could we have known this would become a game of death?" We never could have known. However, none of that matters anymore. I should have went with him, or made him stay. I could have saved him! I never should have let him go alone. Video game or not, I should have been there for him. To protect him. Just like any father should. I'm no father. I'm just a failure. Worth no more than the virtual air that I breathe every second to just feel remotely alive, again. A shell of a man, who can't even protect his family. It should have been me. Yet again, as Mike's thoughts started to quickly spiral out of control, a sense debilitating self-deprecation nestled into the corner of his brain once again. Though, this time, Mike could no longer endure. It was as if his mind cracked, ever so slightly. He crumbled to his knees, erupting in excruciating physical pain and frustration on the bedroom floor. His gasps for air condensate against the freezing wooden floor, as he lay keeled over. Mike let out wails of agony, gripping both sides of his skull. As the pounding in his head grew more intense, so did terrible ringing in his ears. It felt as if his eardrums may burst. Nobody came bursting through the door to help him. Not a single soul came looking for the source of his screams, though it surely rang aloud throughout the Inn. Within an entire minute the pain had gone just as soon as it came. Left bewildered and in shock, Mike was at a loss for words. He was terrified to question it, or what it could have been, at the chance it may choose to come back. However, as he made his exit out of the Inn, Mike contemplated if he would be okay or if his condition would worsen.

 

     Contemplation was never really Mike's forte. But he'd drive himself mad if he couldn't find a way to occupy his mind. For most players in Aincrad, they chose to move on from the Town of Beginnings, but after the horrible incident on Day 1 of SAO, Mike hasn't left a single time. Begging on the streets of Aincrad to stay fed, and with enough Col to rent the inn, it was enough to get by. Though, on the inside, Mike truly felt completely empty. Numerous times, he'd contemplated joining his son in the afterlife. After all, it'd only take a single st- NO! I will never resort to that. I am not a coward! I'll never-    clink "What, GIVE UP?! You won't give up, you say?!"   Mike jumped off the ground, and swirled his head around numerous times, searching for the source of the voice. "Having a hard time?" clink. That noise again. I heard it only moments ago before that voice. The voice rang much louder this time, echoing within Mike's skull. He could hear it so clearly this time, the voice all too familiar. But, who? The ringing started to creep back in. Mike gripped his ears, squeezing and scratching at the try and silence the static that was bubbling within. The pain was going to get worse, again. He could feel it. "Show yourself! Who's t-".   As his teeth clicked together to shout, his body jolted in pain. Saliva spat out through the cracks in his teeth. Though he tried to hold it back to no avail. He tried to rise up and run to try and escape it, but he only collapsed before he could even stand. It came again, this time even sharper. "What's wrong, coward!?! Are you afraid!?! Worried I'll shatter your castle of glass!?!". A maniacal laughter set in. In what felt like a loudspeaker to the back of Mike's head, combined with the force of a brick. It shouted, again. "Can't take a little truth, to SHAKE things up a bit?" The horrid piercing through his head, and high pitched ringing showed no signs of slowing down as they only intensified. As Mike laid there, incapacitated, he did the only thing his body would allow him. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD! DAMN YOU, I SAID GET OUT!". Mike's ferocious screams filled the alley he had rolled into and the street alongside it. He lifted up his head, diverting it towards the solid ground. He could only hope this would work. However, just before Mike could connect with the ground, an older gentleman with grey hard, fair and trim, clad in dark steel weapons and armor approached. With a swift single motion of his hand, he stopped his head. "Woooah, dere big fella, You alrigh pardner? Calm down, young man! You're safe, it's all gonna be ohhhh-kay. Just relax". Mike thought he was dreaming. Within a moment or two, the mind-boggling pain had started to drift away. In any other given scenario, Mike would have been furious. However, the pain was still embedded in his brain, leaving him susceptible to any helping hand. He'd have barked the man up and down a tree for talking to him, let alone touching him. As much as Mike wanted to jump down this guy's throat, he figured he should at least be a tad appreciative. However, it could just be the pain talking. Maybe it's because the geezer looked like an old school counselor. Regardless, Mike accepted the helping hand for the first time in a very long time. And he had no idea just how far this hand alone would carry him to his destiny.

Edited yesterday at 06:21 AM by Milkers
Fixed battle ready inventory, though I have no use at the moment.

[Milkers 0]

     Mike didn’t utter a single word. After the old man helped Mike off the ground, the remaining discomfort within his head had almost fully dispersed. Another moment or two and surely, it'd be gone. The strange gentleman led Mike through the bustling streets of the Town of Beginnings. It is undoubtedly the busiest hub in the entirety of Floor 1. With how busy it is at all hours, it becomes hard to imagine that changing anytime soon. Only time would tell the significance of this incredible town and what it holds for the future. It truly is a sight to behold. One could spend all day exploring, and still not see the Town in its' entirety. The coziness of the some of its' Inns are just enough to leave you content in your own hypocrisy. The man sped up, just slightly. "Keep up, young man!" He huffed, as he hustled on. Who did this old fart think he was? What could he possibly want? I didn't even ask his name. Does he know me? Better stay on my guard. As Mike bickered on in his own head, the old man scurried onward. Mike began to internally berate the man. Unbeknownst to him, the intentions of the man were far from sinister. This rotting sack of potatoes and I couldn't possibly have anything to talk about. Why did I even choose to follow him...? Surely, it couldn't be the fact he reminds me of Mr. Dickens. He trailed on, but nonetheless, continued to follow. Something about this guys' attitude was just off to Mike. Far from his particularly bitter self. It truly bothered him.

     After a few more moments of senseless, brooding, they closed in on their destination. "We've almost arrived. You can thank me later, though from what I've heard about you, you probably won't." Wh-Huh!?  | Mike's feet dug into the ground as he halted to a stop. Taking a quick stir around with his eyes, Mike realized they had arrived at a much cleaner, and more costly Inn. Mike's face went sour. "I can't afford to stay here." He grumped. "Bah, nonsense. Nobody said anythang about you payin, now get your tail inside."  He stared at Mike, almost dumbfounded. "Go on, get movin!" In unforeseen fashion, Mike complied. Mike was astonished to meet someone so kind, yet so stern. It undeniably pushed his buttons. He could worry about that later. Mike made his way towards the entryway, as the man followed along behind him.

Edited 8 hours ago by Milkers
Added another sentence. Fixed some mistakes.

[Milkers 0]

     The interior of the Inn opens up into a bar and restaurant, filled with dozens of other players and NPC's alike. Quite of few them looked familiar to Mike. Some of them being scumbags who harassed him, while he begged for Col. Others, had never even cast a look at him. Towards the center of the room , a 15 foot wide staircase leading up to an open,  but fenced off second floor. Perhaps, a common area for guests of the Inn. The heavy shift in lighting upon entering the room was enough to make Mike dizzy. He theorized if it could be the aroma, from the dozens of candles everywhere. No. Not even an amazing world such as this could emulate the aroma of this many candles. Mike got smacked with another whiff as he made his way over to the bar counter. Or maybe I'm a wrong. He thought to himself. 

     Mike made haste towards a booth in the far left corner of the restaurant. They would be positioned perfectly. "Lemme run over there and grab us some meals, and I'll come find ya." There were no menus here, just a few dishes to choose from. Directly next to the bar, and the main staircase. Now, they would be out of sight from most of the restaurant, aside from anyone at the bar, or anyone standing by the second floor railing. As soon as he sat down, Mike instantly felt at ease, properly sandwiched into the corner. He laid his head back into the wooden railing of his seat, closing his eyes for a brief moment. chink A few seconds of relaxation are interrupted by a familiar feeling. The ringing in his head was striking again, but less intense than before. Though, the pain was still evident. It had went just as soon as it'd come, which was more than Mike could ask for.  

     The elderly gentleman returned to the table with two large wooden bowls full of Boar Hog Potato Soup. As he sat down ever so slowly, a long drawn out grunt escaped his lips. "These soup bowls are Deeee-licious. Just wait till you get a taste!" The man said excitedly. Maybe it was because of the pain, just a few moments ago. Or maybe he was just done. Regardless, Mike had finally reached his limit. Mike raised his fists in the air. "All right, what the hell's your deal, you crazy old bastard!?!" He shouted, as he slammed his fists onto the table. The piping hot soup, sloshed around in the bowl as the table shook. The old man's smile didn't fade. In fact, it softened. "What do you want from me? Hmm!?!" He demanded. The old man's wrinkly, squinted eyes opened. Momentarily, his gaze veered off to the side. Shifting downwards, and then ultimately back up at Mike. Any day now. Mike thought to himself. 

      "I know what happened to you, Mike." Tears began to well up in their eyes. "Name's Arthur. And it happened to me too." 

     Tears fall.

 

 

Edited 3 hours ago by Milkers