[PP - F:10]] Time to Leave

[Mari 1]

Between the second and third day…. Mari had not slept. She was tired - near the point of exhaustion, and it was evident on her facial features. Dark circles lined erratic eyes as they kept glancing to and fro. Every now and again her head would lull forward and her eyes would close just that little bit slower - and if Mari hadn’t been using her polearm as a makeshift cane - she would have most definitely fallen over.   Every now and again Mari would mutter something to herself, then get annoyed- and retaliate with a fuck you or a shut up. It was clear she had seen better days.   The absolute crushing pressure of the floor was not made for long term stays - the game even advised heavily against it - claiming it could cause severe mental anguish, even dementia. But Mari was stubborn - and she knew she would be fine after this encounter. All she needed were some answers… and a good nights rest.

If the plague doctor were to approach she’d still - entire body frozen as she watches him approach. As he draws closer Mari would stand upright - the erratic behavior dissolving in a veneer of precarious confidence.

“Ah. Well if it isn’t lil’ Solnyshko?”  She asked, her tone low. If memory served her correctly, it was a term of endearment - something about a sun? The exact nuance didn’t matter to her, simply - the use of Russian. “The Filoviridae family…” Mari began as the cracks already began to form, a twitch of her eye - a blink that was too long and too heavy.

“Zaire…Sudan…Budibugyo….Tai Forest….Mahburg…” With each strain, and each name Mari took a step, and with each step she tapped the ground with the butt of her weapon. “Each identifiable by a very obvious…tell tale rope…” Mari paused. Her back to the man as she looked up at the ceiling. Even as she said it, it wasn’t believable.

“It was such a pretty colour…” 

Mari shook her head as though she were trying to shake away the perverse thought. No, such a thing wasn’t pretty. “It was so obvious from the start. Even so..I spent two days creating a makeshift centrifuge - a bastardized form of magnification…I was close to using blood and testing it on that - ahh…but I didn’t have microscopes…no ampules…” Her tone lowered, as she began to mutter again. “Maybe if I had some kind of glass..perspex box - rubber gloves…it could - I wonder if an artisans tools would work with - but the bunsen burner would melt it…” Her spoken thoughts were broken. Mari blinked. Shit. She was rambling.

Mari turned back to face him. “It was obvious. You even graciously had it steeped in that telltale hue of violet and lavender - I just didn’t see it. I didn’t think it possible. So why. Why?” She asked again, slightly more erratic.

“Did you fashion an Ebola Virus, Solnyshko?”

 

 

 

 

Spoiler

Assist System Engaged Final EXP +0%
Name: Mari
True Tier: 9
Level: 4
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 90/90
EN: 31/31

Stats:
Damage: 12
Mitigation: 30
Accuracy: 3
Evasion: 2
Battle Healing: 5
Stealth Rating: 3
KEEN: 1
HB: 2
FLN: 2

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket:
- Darkened Bore | T4 Perfect | ACC I | Keen I | Fallen I
Armor/Trinket:
- Infernal Shadow | T4 Perfect LA | EVA II | Holy Blessing
Shield/Armor/Trinket:
-

Combat Mastery:
- Combat Mastery: Damage R3

Combat Shift:
- AOE Shift

Familiar Skill:
- Rending Familiar

Custom Skill:
-

Skills:
- Battle Healing R5
- Charge
- Energist
- Light Armor R5
- Polearm R5

Extra Skills:
- Survival
- Hiding R5
- First Aid R2

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:
- Focus
- Precision
- Resolve
- Stamina

Mods:
- Meticulous
- Surpise Attack: Trickster
- Untraceable
- Vanish

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:

Housing Buffs:
- Bedroom: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat
- Living Room: Increases out of combatHP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild Totem:

Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:
- Alchemist[exp] R10
Gathering Profession:

 

Edited 3 hours ago by Mari

[Vitreous 1]

Three days of silence came and went. Days of isolation and intrigue, filled to the brim with nothing more then tests upon tests. The analysis had gone swimmingly, and both stagnant waters had bore fruit.  The stygian had proved a fair source of highly potent muriatic compound while the bioluminescent was a fester site of some bacteria that could be cultured in ways that the game would never be able to perceive. More then enough to work away at even more synthesis, a way of creating things this game had never thought possible. Ingenuity in an extreme that no skill would provide, conveyed in ways that would slip beneath the perceptions that even a most hardened safety net could misread.

*Tap, Tap, Tap*

Simple footfalls adorned in those very same tattered rags, as mundane as one could come to bear. A cloth cover that had been eaten, worn, melted and burned. Beneath, the thicker leathers transformed in ways to prevent even the strongest and most volatile concoction from piercing that thickened skin. A rich black with a slight gloss, giving it the illusion of almost a plastic. The one major feature to break up the nigh vanilla appearance? That long bill of a mask that covered his face. Within seconds of entering the cave, the woman would become stiff as if his prescience set her into a spiral. A blade slides down his right sleeve, a long and waved sacrificial knife with a foot long blade. Already coated in a tripartite protein that would prove fatal with even the simplest thrust. It glimmers from even the slightest touch of light, as its clutched in that dense leather grip.

Expecting her to either A. have absolutely no clue what she was given, B. Not appear at all because she ate it or something else equally stupid, or C. which was the likely this case, given she looked like she'd huffed a fist full of uppers and was now spinning her head into a frenzied spiral. She understood.

That head of his would tilt as his movement would stop, allowing her the stage to speak her findings. Even offering an open left palm as if passing her the feather to release them. Her speech dwarfed the crazed rantings of a homeless spouting the end of the world from an alleyway. Once it seemed as though she was finished, posing a question to him as her mind struggled to maintain its grasp on possibility. That weapon of his remained at the ready, as he'd offer it to his left arm pit. Three times, those thick leather gloves would slam together.

*Clap, Clap, Clap*

After all, such brilliance deserved applause.

---

<<Assist System Engaged>>
Level: 4
Paragon: 0
Tier: 1
True Tier: 1

Final EXP: +5%

---

Event:
Free SP | 185
Taken | Reflective (18)

---

Vitreous | HP: 80/80 | EN: 26/26 | DMG: 1 | MIT:18 | Thorns: 156
 

Spoiler

 

Name: Vitreous, The Grim Physician
True Tier: 1
Level: 4
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 80/80
EN: 26/26

Stats:
Damage: 1
Mitigation: 18

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Armor/Trinket: 
  - Vanguard's Heavy Plate | T1 Heavy Armor | 232786 | MIT 3
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 

Combat Mastery:
  - 

Combat Shift:
  - 

Familiar Skill:
  - 

Custom Skill:
  - 

Skills:

Extra Skills:

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:

Mods:

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild Totem:

Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:

 

 

[Mari 1]

Clap

 Clap

  Clap

 

The muted sattico sound of accolades snapped Mari out of her rambling stupor. He was…clapping? Mari stared at him - brows furrowed in confusion. Why was he clapping? Still.. The action caused a sense of pride well within Mari’s chest. At least someone understood. There was a certain…je ne sais quoi when it came to discovering things - learning things. And there were few here who really understood. Instead of thanking him, Mari gave the plague doctor a curious nod of acknowledgement.  He wasn’t being volatile… he hadn’t shown her any cause for alarm except, yanno, making a potential virus

Her eyes shifted to her weapon. Right. Last time she had it out he didn’t take too kindly to it, did he? With a heavy sigh, a twist, and a sudden jerk - Mari freed it from the ground and set it away in her inventory. “Sorry… This floor gets to you after a while.” Mari admitted, tapping her temple for good measure. She didn’t need to explain further. She knew she was already struggling with it. Could feel herself slipping into rants she’d otherwise keep hidden.

Her eyes shifted to his open palm, unsure of what he was offering, or expecting. “I threw it in the Stygnian.” Mari said flatly, taking a step closer to him. There was a hesitation now.

She still had one question. Why. Her eyes shifted up to his crystal. He was marked a player killer. Something Mari never used to judge anyone. It’d be too hypocritical. After her time in jail…she wanted to be more trusting. And there was something about this person, what he offered. The potential of things yet explored - there was an excitement in Mari’s eyes - before she shook her head. Not allowing herself to get swept up in it.

“Why?”

If he wanted to get out of here, why? Was it aimed at NPCs? If so - Mari couldn’t give a damn about them. But Players? She couldn’t fathom anyone wanting something like that to eviscerate the chances of leaving here.

[Vitreous 1]

The clapping ceased after a brief time, causing him to fish the knife out and slink it low to his right side following the direction of his leg and the handle just above his kneecap. That stagnant and thick air between them would clear briefly, as a pair of colleagues on opposed world views. There was a certain level of annoyance at the thought of having to gut her after all of this, and weighing his options he did. Perhaps she could be chained up? repurposed if she had the kind of mental acuity to understand even a minor pittance as that. Such biomechanics would easily go unnoticed by a large portion of the children running around Aincrad, so finding even a single person with more then a single digit IQ was about as rare as getting struck by lightning 3 times in a week or winning the lottery twice in the same period.

“I threw it in the Stygnian.”

Ah, the magnificently pathetic response he'd expect to hear by an emotionally compromised exposed nerve. Afraid to push the boundaries of possibility to even see what such a method could bring. A simple minded approach of brawn over brain, because its too 'unfair' to level the playing field against an endless onslaught of digitally constructed cells or too 'dangerous'. The crow saw no difference between them and a disease. What he had given her could easily be reproduced in a day or three, and legitimately proved unacceptable for the end result anyway. The real world virus couldn't provide the proper transmission or gestation periods he needed. He'd offer a shrug of dismissal, because to him it was no big deal. All she did was get rid of a sample he already was going to.

“Why?”

Sheathing his blade into his right sleeve, on the instep side where his wrist is. It clicks into the spring powered linkage ready to fire off again as it locks into place. That hand grasps the rags and pulls them to his left side, revealing the array of vials and syringes of plenty. The man was a walking armory, and into a singular belt loop, he'd clutch the small little bottle of familiar grey liquid. The very same he'd hosed them both down with. Out and in his clawed fingers, he'd wiggle it out in front with a little slosh. Would it click, after all she had managed to come this far.

[Mari 1]

Mari didn’t expect an answer, not outright at least. The man whom she thought was mute was simply was one of few words. Rather, the only word she had ever heard him say was Atan - one she had no idea the meaning behind. One of Mari’s professors in college had been Russian, one of her colleges, a real Casanova that one - but beyond that - she had never really studied the language. Never had a need to. 

Still. He answered her - and in a way she could tell his intention. Mari took another step closer to him, one that echoed in the cavern around them - it being the loudest sound shared between the two. With a flourish he showed her the very same liquid he doused her in. Oh

She had almost drawn the wrong conclusion. She had almost assumed he meant harm. When by his actions alone - it was clear what his intention had been. “You…wanted to improve upon that spray… No… that…makes sense…”

He’d done nothing to her - Mari felt a little guilty having messaged Freyd now. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. Her eyes shifted to the side as she tugged on her hair. The mutterings of exhaustion mixed with the miasmatic effect the floor had on her mental acuity slipping through again.

“I almost didn’t throw it though…” Her words were spoken more for herself, than the man before her. “It was so hard to but…what choice…it seemed inert…but…oh…the applications - it’d make sense…it’d depend on the pathogen…but…”

You’re loosing it Mari

She blinked, then groaned as she rubbed her very tired eyes. “Dammit. Sorry.”

It was clear she was struggling, she took a staggered step back - almost swaying til she righted herself - straightening her back and kept her focus back on the strange enigma before her.

Edited 2 hours ago by Mari

[Vitreous 1]

The girl was clearly compromised, the sway and the slurring of her words. The step toward him just increased the invitation, cutting the distance between them so comfortably would make it even easier. Again, it would be a waste to slit her throat but there was room for a gambit. At worst, he'd have to kill her. But maybe just maybe, it might end up being useful. The man would pivot and return the vial to his belt loop, and without any abrupt movement he'd reach for a long syringe held in a strap slung across his chest. A safety measure that he'd hardly ever needed, given it was a lot more barbaric. Slipped out, he'd hold it between them with the sharp end straight toward the ceiling, pointing to the tip and making a show of it as he'd wave a gloved hand down its length. As the girl would lean in for closer inspection, that's when he'd spring into action.

A sudden grip of the girl that dwarfed him by a foot or more, he'd clamp her wrist and shove it into her upper arm. A refined and potent tranquilizer, caused the brief fight to immediately turn to a limp and heavy load. He'd lugged around dead weight that was easily twice the woman's size, as well as plenty of manual labor. She couldn't be more then around 50 kg. The almost doe eyed and absent stare of her eyes confirmed, with the trickle of drool as she'd struggle out a single word. Leather gloves shut her eyes, as he'd use her limp hand to orchestrate her HUD and strip her weapon and other potentially hazardous or problematic crap from it. Even going as far to set her to asleep, to discourage the pings from rousing her too early.

'Freyd, Baldur, Macradon, Beat, Shield, Oikawa, Oscar...' The rip of her contact screen as he'd gauge her attachments, using her chest as a table to write them down. Folding up the paper, he'd slide it into a pocket and then pick her up and toss her arms over his right shoulder carrying her spear in his left.

---

*Moved to Floor 11, ???*

Two days later, when she awoke she would find herself in a laboratory in different clothes made of simple cloth that was soft as if treated in something that had caused the fibers to become fried. It would smell of sulfur, and around her would be a simple cot and table held aloft by two chains that made it dangle. A prison but one with a bit more class, the floor walls and ceiling without a speck of dust on any of it. Just outside the solid glass she would see her gear sitting on a metal table, as well as Vitreous and subject #26 strapped to another. The man was slowly pulling out a needle, as the orange marker floats above them both. Subject #26 screams out in agony, as his blood boils.

[Mari 1]

“Listen…” Mari began. “I…this has been…” She paused trying to find the right word. Fun? It had been, but not so much the jovial haha way, the intriguing way.. “An experience but I need to leave this floor before-”

Leave? Are you insane?
    Isn’t this what you wanted? An opportunity to do things?

Don’t you miss this?

Mari drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She did…She missed researching. Learning. Adapting. But not like this. Not at the cost of her sanity. First she’d need to go back to her home - then, let Freyd know she was okay. Then sleep.

What if you never see this man again?

She paused. That…was a possibility. He didn’t seem like the type to share much with anyone. Still…Mari had to prioritize her health. She didn’t want a lecture from Raidou or Freyd. She didn’t want to disappoint Oscar.

“What?” Mari asked the man as he pulled out a syringe. Mari eyed it curiously, cautiously. There was enough distance between them for her to feel safe enough. He showed her the length of the needle. “Compensating?” Mari chidded. Why was he showing her this?

Mari shook her head, and turned to leave- and that’s when he latched out - gripping her wrist with his free hand. “H-Hey get the fuck off.” Mari hissed. She bought a leg up to kick into his chest - but she already felt heavy.

Shit

Shit.

It felt like hot lead - travelling up her up. Her legs buckled then collapsed. She struggled to move her limbs. A mild panic set in and Mari had to remind herself to calm down, else her panic would only let the toxin pump faster through her body. Her eyes shifted to the exit - resting on a nearby shadow. Damn…if only Freyd had been here.

You knew this was a probability, you practically begged him to do it with your guard down
  You’re just that desperate aren’t you?


…

–

Two Days Later

Mari woke with a groan. Her limbs were still heavy. She glanced down at herself - she wore…plain black clothes. Pants, and a long sleeved shirt. “What the…” She hadn’t been embarrassed at the notion of being changed - her modesty filter had been set on - so all anyone would see would be a flourish of pixels.  Her hands ran across the material and it felt soft. But it smells acrid…familiar. Like the -

That fucking plague doctor!

Mari jolted. Now fully standing. And it didn’t take long to realize Mari was in a cell. Great. Another prison. This one though…was different. Her cell didn’t have bars - rather it was surrounded by thick glass. The floors, ceiling, and wall, were all pristine - and had the distinct sting of bleach to the air.  There was a single sink - hung by chains, and a small bed - also hung by chains.

Her eyes shifted to beyond the confines of her cell, where she saw movement.

Him

He stood by a metal table that housed her belongings. His back was to her - but Mari knew better than to open up her menu right now. It’d take less than a second for him to turn and see what she was doing. 

What was more pressing…was what he was doing.

Strapped to a table - was what looked to be a Player Killer, the telltale orange crystal floating above his head. As he pulled out a long needle the man began to scream - Mari flinched. Just what the hell did she get herself into?

“HEY!” Mari screamed as she banged a fist against the glass.

“The fuck is this?”

Did he experiment on Pkers? Mari felt sick - was she next? Maybe she should have worked toward redemption sooner but...if he wanted to do that to her, wouldn't she be the one on the table? Why was she given these amenities? 

Edited 59 minutes ago by Mari

[Vitreous 1]

The man continued to scream for a few good seconds before he'd run out of breath, then would end up in a stupor of whimpers and mumbles having spent what he had left in the tank. The good doctor leans and plucks up a clip board and begins to scratch away, lifting an eyelid to inspect his pupil and checking the subjects left wrist with his index and ring finger pressed flat against it. A glance to a clock that ticked away at the wall, he'd note down the time and tap an IV filled with a green fluid attached to the subjects vein.

“HEY!”

*Thung, Thung*

Th abrupt banging rung through the room, causing the subject to flounder and pull a bit. The long beak would protrude over his left shoulder, like sickle as he'd look back to find Mari roused and puffed up. Her demeanor and her lean on the glass despite banging on it conveyed that she wasn't all together yet. The good doctor would turn, lift his hands and cross them briefly before spreading them apart. A wide sweep of the chamber, as if to say 'Take a look around' revealing all manner of refined equipment, cooled racks filled with tubes as gears and steam pumped in the gentle hissing. Like a locomotive the place was alive, running much like the clocktower that sat some 60 feet in streets above them.

“The fuck is this?”

He pauses, removing his leather brimmed hat and pressing it into his chest flat. Folding forward for a moment, before placing it back. He'd move for the table holding her gear, picking up two things that had been waiting there. A copy of her friends list, and a nice and fat manilla folder. Pressing the folder against the glass, it would reveal the sharp label on an adhesive sticker in front of it.

Subject #26 - Johnathon Drake

He'd point to it, and then back to the man sitting on the table as if to identify him. Then he'd rip the label off, opening a slot in the cell and placing it into the awaiting brass drawer. The crow then disappears off to the left, moving back within a few seconds. A simple pair of vices meant to hold test tubes, and a single Bunsen burner. In one, he shoves the label on her left and in the other he sticks a copy of her loved ones on the right. Setting the burner directly in the center, he'd take a marker and begin to write on the glass.

Left? or Right?
Which is more important to you?

With that, he pushes the brass drawer forward. In that folder it revealed all of the mans biometrics (height, weight, age), what he did to get his orange marker, and how the current strain of Ricin was functioning in his avatar. The man was surviving it, but it clearly was causing him excruciating agony. He'd look on in silence, folding his arms and presenting an open right palm as if to gesture 'Go ahead, I'll wait'