[PP-F01] Curiosity's Edge

[Bael 1]

Bael crouched just beyond the tree line, eyes fixed on the field where Arsine had paused. The orange cursor above her head pulsed faintly, signaling her presence even amidst the grime and debris clinging to her avatar. He watched as she slammed her fists against the dirt, cursing softly in her native tongue, and then finally drew a long, measured breath. Composure returned, but not the unguarded chaos he had seen earlier.

A smirk tugged at his lips. The woman moved differently than the other players, her focus never wavered, her movements deliberate even in frustration. Something about that drew his attention, kept him rooted in place instead of wandering the plains. He could follow her, he decided, but not too closely. There was no need to intrude. The hot spring she mentioned yesterday, he remembered, was not far from here. If she intended to cleanse herself, he could accompany her, keeping watch from a discreet distance, a silent shadow at the edge of her path.

He rose slowly, greataxe slung across his back, and moved with careful economy, every step measured to avoid disturbing the undergrowth. The plains were quiet this morning, save for the soft rustle of distant wildlife and the low hum of the game itself. He noted the scattered players still lingering at the edges of the field, orange cursors jittering nervously as they observed from afar. None were bold enough to approach, and he allowed himself a brief chuckle. Today, they were merely background noise.

Adjusting his hood, Bael tilted his head toward Arsine's path. The journey to the hot spring would take her across the low ridge and into a sheltered grove where steam would rise from the water. He considered the mimic she had mentioned, spawned in town, something for her to deal with, something to keep her hands occupied while he maintained his vigil. He wasn't here to interfere, not yet. He wanted to see how she handled herself, how she moved through the small chaos she had carved out for herself in this world.

With a silent sigh, Bael settled into the shadow of a rock just off her path, greataxe resting lightly against his shoulder. The sun glinted faintly against the black metal of the haft, catching his eye for only a moment before he returned his focus to her. The plains stretched out around them, quiet, tense, expectant. And he waited, the predator among the tall grass, curious to see how the poison girl would navigate the next part of her day.

* * *

Spoiler

Bael | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 6 | True Tier: 1

WC: 423

Edited 11 hours ago by Bael

[Arsine 0]

“Did not want such things…” She mumbled to herself, trying to wipe the slime off her body, memories of the mimic and how it felt still clear in her mind. Disgusting… She hadn’t expected a creature to spawn in the confines of the safe zone. Again, the mans words ran out in her ears, Complacent.

Right…The rules of the game could realistically change any time. Arsine knew that, it's why she was so indulgent. She had attempted to message a number of people, consorts for the evening to aid her - but when they found out she had an orange cursor - they had all told her they were not interested till she was green again.

“Bores…” She muttered. It was a shame she would not find a body to warm her bed that night, and a bigger shame she could not enjoy the comforts of a hot shower in an inn, but at least she would have the hot springs.

Arsine prided herself on being able to keep her composure, so as she leisurely walked down the path, hating the scent, hating the feeling of everything against her skin she didn’t show it. Even as a player caught sight of her, and turned to run in an opposite direction all she did was give them a small smile and a nod. Of course they’d fear her - they would glance upon the orange cursor and assume the worst.

Arsine pulled a cloth from her inventory and paused by a river that would lead down into the sheltered grove. She dipped it into the water and used it to wipe the grime from her face at least, then her arms. With little care to the environment she let the dirtied rag fall to the ground by the riverbed and continued on her path.

Arsine paused just before the hot spring, finding a small patch of Nightshade. “Serendipity, I believe…” She said to herself as she crouched down and collected the sprigs, carefully, meticulously ensuring she didn’t hurt herself, nor squish the dangerous berries. She wrapped them up in a separate piece of linen and placed it safely away before continuing on.

Every now and again she’d stop to collect another herb of some sort. After an hour she had hit the hot springs. No one was around, not that she would care if they were. The woman immediately took off her shoes, clothes, and jewellery and lowered herself into the waters. Leaning back with a sigh.

She really needed this…

No noise. No fighting, no NPCs laughing at her, just peace.

WC:428

Arsine | HP: 320/320 | EN: 50/50 | DMG: 8  | TRue Tier 2

[Bael 1]

Bael had followed at a distance, his boots silent against the soft earth, eyes fixed on the faint shimmer of her cursor ahead. She walked like someone who had accepted the game's cruelty long ago, each step deliberate, neither defiant nor fearful. Her orange cursor pulsed softly in the dim light, a warning to others, an invitation to him.

He watched her pause by the river, dipping a cloth into the water, cleaning her face with slow, methodical motions. She didn't bother to hide her disgust for the slime or the grime, nor did she rush the task. There was something in the rhythm of her movements, careful, almost reverent. He found himself studying the small things: the way her fingers brushed over the linen, the small flicker of relief when she saw her reflection clear just slightly.

When she let the rag fall to the ground, he tilted his head. Wasteful, but fitting. Arsine never pretended to be anyone other than what she was. Indulgent. Controlled chaos wrapped in refinement.

Bael stayed within the shadows of the trees as she made her way toward the grove. The air grew thicker there, warmer. The faint hiss of steam told him they were close. He saw her stop to collect herbs, her precision almost scientific. She handled even poison with care. He smirked quietly to himself. It was an oddly fitting image, her crouched over deadly flowers, serene amidst the danger.

When she finally reached the hot springs, Bael stopped at the edge of the clearing. Steam rose in soft curls from the surface, blurring her form as she began to undress. He didn’t avert his eyes, but neither did he leer. He was watching her ritual, the shedding of grime, of fatigue, of irritation. The slow return to calm. She slipped into the water, leaned back, and exhaled. The sound of that sigh carried across the clearing like a spell meant to unravel the silence.

He waited a few moments longer before moving. His boots pressed softly against the soil as he stepped from the shadows, his presence a quiet disturbance in the peace she’d carved for herself. He stopped behind her, crouching down just out of reach of the steam’s edge, the faint smirk still ghosting across his lips.

"So this is the infamous hot spring, huh?" His voice carried low, rough around the edges, but not hostile. More like an observation than a challenge.

Arsine didn't startle, not that he expected her to. The woman had the composure of someone who had long accepted the unpredictability of the world around her.

Bael leaned his elbow against his knee, eyes scanning the rippling water. "Not a bad place to hide from the world," he said after a pause, the faintest trace of amusement in his tone. "Steam, solitude.. silence. No one brave enough to bother you."

His eyes flicked briefly to the faint shimmer of her orange cursor reflected on the surface. "Almost no one."

* * *

WC: 496

[Arsine 0]

"If you want peek, will cost you." Arsine muttered as she heard heavy footsteps approach. "Must warn, have modesty filter on, still more than you deserve to see."  Arsine made it a habit it turn it on and off during the day and evenings, and it seemed to have been a good call. Not the first time someone tried to take a peek at her - and then yesterday at the docks with the mimic. Her odd habit saving her much grace in those times.

Then, she heard that low growl of a voice. "Ah." Still not moving, she acknowledged who he has. "May need a different name for you. Not sleeping beast." Arsine finally opened her eyes, and ran a wet cloth over her arm. She wouldn't allow his presence to ruin her moment. "Wandering Beast, perhaps?"

She washed her other arm, taking her time to even get the dirt between her nails before finally turning around to face the man. She folded her arms beneath her and sat her chin on them, watching him curiously. She hadn't expected him to come here. Maybe he hadn't planned to. "Stalking Beast." She said. Making the assumption that he had followed her here. He didn't have that same energy in his voice as he did the day he attacked the players. The same static wasn't in the air. His movements were slow, languid. She was currently in no danger.

He was kneeling forward, beside her. Elbow on knee as he peered into the water. Even now she couldn't see his facial features, but thought she could see wisps of hair protruding, so he wasn't bald at least.

"Not many know of it." Arsine said quietly, watching his movements. "Most use the teleport gates, do not walk the floors. I found it by chance. Is nice, no?" She offered him a smile as he said no one was brave enough to bother her - a slight against her cursor?

"Is not permanent. I shoved fisherman into sea. Slapped Mayor. Was not happy with how the...mimic situation was handled. Will return to green by tomorrow. Of this I am sure."

She shut her eyes, falling quiet for a moment. Enjoying the steam, deep slow breaths. She felt much better now she was clean. "So, why do you approach me Bael?"

WC: 385

[Bael 1]

Bael's head tilted slightly as Arsine spoke, her dry wit filtering through the steam like a breeze through smoke. "If you want peek, will cost you." The words carried no fear, just that teasing cadence of hers, one part mockery, one part warning. He couldn't help the quiet sound that escaped him, a low, rough chuckle that reverberated in his chest. "You overestimate my curiosity," he replied evenly, though the smirk that lingered on his lips said otherwise.

He rose from his crouch and began to circle the perimeter of the spring, boots pressing against the damp ground with deliberate calm. The steam thickened between them, turning his form into a silhouette, broad, steady, little more than a shape moving through the mist. "A modesty filter.." he murmured, voice faintly amused. "How disciplined of you. Most players these days don't think ahead that far."

Arsine's next remark, about his name, made him pause. "Wandering Beast," she called him. Then "Stalking Beast." The latter lingered in the air longer than it should have, and Bael allowed himself a quiet hum in response as he stepped through a denser patch of mist, positioning himself on the far side of the pool. From there, her outline was a blur of movement, graceful, unbothered. "You give too much credit," he said finally. "I don't stalk. I observe. Difference is intent."

He crouched again, lowering his hand toward the edge of the spring. The heat from the water licked his knuckles as he traced a small ripple across its surface. "Besides," he continued, "If I wanted to harm you, I'd have done it already." The words weren't a threat, they were simply fact, delivered in that same even tone he always carried.

Her explanation about the orange cursor drew a faint, almost imperceptible nod. "Shoved a fisherman and slapped a mayor," he repeated, his tone shifting just slightly, something like amusement layered beneath curiosity. "You've been busy."

He leaned back, resting an arm against his raised knee, his dark silhouette barely visible through the haze. "You're not wrong about the others. Most don't walk the floors. They hide behind gates, menus, and false safety." His gaze drifted upward, following the swirl of vapor into the open air. "That's why places like this still exist. Untouched. Unseen. Forgotten."

When she asked why he approached her, his gaze lowered again, meeting where her eyes might be through the veil of mist. "Maybe I was curious," he admitted. "Maybe I wanted to see if you'd still speak to the man everyone else runs from."

A brief pause. The corner of his mouth lifted, faint but visible even in the haze. "Or maybe," he said, voice softer now, "I just wanted to see if you were still alive."

He shifted his stance slightly, letting the mist swallow him further until only his outline remained, half-there, half-gone. "You don't seem the type to stay quiet long. I figured it was only a matter of time before the world found you again."

* * *

WC: 501

Edited 8 hours ago by Bael

[Arsine 0]

Arsine found the man odd. He seemed almost insatiable in the way he approached those other players, a small part of her told her to leave. There was something clearly wrong with this man, he was not safe. He killed, she had been witness to several of them. So then, why did she stay? “Why observe me?” Arsine chanced to ask. She opened her eyes and watched him walk the outside of the small spring, she had to turn her body round to keep him in her sights. “It goes off at night.” She said, hints of amusement in her tone as she lifted a hand to brush her hair back.

Her soft green eyes regarded him, she didn’t know what she looked like beneath the cowl, the cape - strong arms with taught muscles, a small smirk as he told her he’d have harmed her if he wanted to. She knew that. Maybe that’s why she didn’t feel like she was in danger right now - because he was fully capable of harming her, and yet at every crossing chose not to. But why? The question lingered in her head.

Then, it gave way to a brief look of annoyance as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Fish man deserved it. Mimic had me pinned on the ground, tongue around my legs and the man did nothing. Nohl!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Had audacity to make joke. So I make joke of him. Of Mayor too!” She gestured up toward her crystal.

“Is why it is orange. Harming NPCs. KNow now not to do again. Not much. Might be hard.”

Arsine sighed. “I could not do as you do, Bael. I prefer, as you put it. The false safety. I prefer warm beds. Delicious foods. A body to share bed with. Not…” She gestured around them.

“This.”

"You don't seem the type to stay quiet long. I figured it was only a matter of time before the world found you again."

Her head tilted to the side at his words, she didn’t understand the meaning of them. “Can explain? I do not understand what you mean with those words.”

WC: 362

[Bael 1]

Bael watched her as she spoke, his crimson eyes faintly aglow in the steam curling up from the spring. Her words carried the familiar defiance of someone clinging to normalcy in a place that had none. He found himself studying her gestures, the way her hands cut through the air when she grew frustrated, the flicker of humor and irritation that traded places behind her eyes. Despite everything, she still felt human. That was rare here. Dangerous, too.

He took a slow step closer, boots crunching lightly against the gravel. "You misunderstand," he said, voice low but edged with something like amusement. "It wasn't a warning. It was an observation."

His gaze drifted toward the darkened plains beyond the trees, where the faint glow of cursor lights shimmered in the distance, other players, always watching, always moving. "This world.. it doesn't stay quiet for long. You draw attention, even when you don't mean to. A spark in the dark, someone loud enough to make the silence notice. And when it does, it remembers your face."

He looked back to her then, meeting her green eyes. "That's what I meant. People like you don't stay hidden. You burn too bright."

Bael crouched by the edge of the spring, trailing his fingers along the surface. The ripples distorted his reflection, a dark figure, blurred and faceless. "As for me," he continued, tone quieter now, "I don't live for the false safety you speak of. Comfort dulls the edge. Makes you forget the rules of this place. You let your guard down, and something takes it from you, your health, your pride, or worse."

His hand tightened slightly around the water, droplets slipping through his fingers like blood. "But I do understand wanting warmth. To remember what it felt like to be.. normal.” He glanced back at her. "Maybe that's why you're still here. Even after everything."

He stood, the faint light catching against the metal of his blade as he sheathed it again. "You don't need to understand my words, Arsine. Just.. remember them. Because when the world finds you again, and it will, you'll wish it stayed quiet."

Then, almost as an afterthought, he smirked faintly. "And next time you see a mimic, maybe let the fish man take the hit first."

* * *

WC: 381

[Mari 1]

delete me 

Edited 3 hours ago by Mari

[Arsine 0]

"Voyeurism." Came Arsine's amused reply, she slowly cupped her  hands and picked up some water, letting it fall over her head. "Just an observation, Bael." Again with the small shot at the man, an amused tone. Maybe this is why she didn't flee. Even has he moved further away Arsine couldn't help but shift closer. Toes barely touching the bottom of the spring as she closed the gap between them.

She was right in front of him. Perched right in front of his bent knee, she could practically pull him in if she so chose, and the temptation was there. He still smelt like wet grass. He was looking elsewhere, now she was directly beneath him she could see it - the small glint of red in his eyes. "Ah, is red. Like ruby." 

He seemed distracted by something the woman didn't care to see. Still, a glance in the direction he looked - there was movement there, sounds that normally wouldn't be. Were players approaching? That was rare, of all the times the woman had come to this place this was the only time she had company. "You giving me warning?" Arsine asked quietly, trying to think about what his words meant. English. Such a hard language. "Is it not good to be remembered?"

She turned to face him, and found him staring directly down at her, his presence stifling. She swallowed. and re-positioned herself, just to his side. That little bit further away so she could breathe. She watched as he trailed his fingers along the waters surface. "Sounds like none can take from you, you already took so much from yourself." Arsine closed her eyes, resting her chin on folded arms again.

"Next time I see mimic. Will throw it at fish man - or at you."

A silence formed, the woman wasn't sure how much time had passed - enough that she felt like she had been soaking long enough, but not enough to want to move. Her limbs hurt, they felt like jelly. Heavy with exhaustion. She wasn't used to it. Wasn't used to so much questing. "Is hard to forget someone like you, Beast."

WC: 356

[Bael 1]

Bael's head tilted slightly at her words, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. "Throw it at me, will you?" His tone carried a dry humor, quiet but edged with amusement. "Perhaps. But you might find yourself washing off the slime and dirt again."

The steam between them curled lazily, softening the sharpness of his outline. Her composure, her willingness to speak to him so casually, still surprised him. Even now, sitting vulnerable in the spring, she looked back at him without fear.

"Is hard to forget someone like you, Beast."

Although not staring directly at her, Bael gave a short, low chuckle. "You shouldn't call me that," he murmured. "Names tend to stick." A pause followed, then his voice deepened slightly, measured, deliberate. "Still.. I don't think you're someone I would forget. Intriguing."

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, gaze drifting toward the water’s surface. "You speak of comfort like it's something to be ashamed of. Warm beds, full plates.. there's no fault in wanting them. But they make you soft. And softness gets people killed here."

A droplet from his hair struck the water, breaking the reflection between them. "You learn that once. You never forget it."

Bael's eyes flicked toward her again, faintly visible through the mist. "Still," he said, voice quieter now, "You've survived this long. That says something."

He fell silent after that, no challenge, no lecture, just the faint hum of thought as the heat from the spring wrapped around them both.

* * *

WC: 254

[Mari 1]

oh ffs my browswer keeps resetting this; delete me too

Edited 26 minutes ago by Mari

[Arsine 0]

Arsine couldn't help but laugh softly at his response. "Maybe. But I would not be the only one needing to wash myself. That alone would be a victory to me." 

She was beginning to feel a little light headed so lifted herself up and out of the hot springs, immediately donning a towel to wrap around her torso. Arsine allowed her legs to stay in the water, kicking them back and forth slowly. She enjoyed the contrast, the cool wind against damp skin, the heated water below. "If not Beast. If not Bael. Then what would I call you?" Arsine asked. She shifted her gaze back to him - he was close. Very close. And still she could barely glance at what he looked like. Ruby red eyes, hair. gruff voice. Not much to go off of. A man who seemed to enjoy solitude. Felt the life she wanted made others soft. Maybe it did make her soft, but Arsine didn't care.

softness gets people killed here

"I do not believe death here is permanent." Came her quiet reply. "Is strange. No? We are all trapped here, and we must believe the words of a mad man in the sky? Who is to say he is telling truth?" She shrugged. "If is truth, I prefer to indulge than live in fear. Why fight for frontlining, when those outside the game have more of chance to release us?" A reason she didn't fear him, was simply because she didn't believe in the death game. If it were true - then so be it. But Arsine refused to let fear dictate how she chose to live.

There was something else about his words though... it sounded like he had lost someone.

"I am sure. Whomever you looking for. Is out there waiting." 

An attempt to console the man.

"I..." ARsine lifted her eyes to gaze at the glade that surrounded them, the way fireflies danced between trees closely woven together. "Am not sure what secret is to surviving. I do what I wish. When I wish. Nothing more. Nothing less."

wc; 346