[PP-F2] Hills (Nirvana, Toothpick)

[Helios 0]

Sitting upon a large hill was a young, tall man. He was leaned up against an oak tree with his emerald green eyes shut tightly. Helios, the boy I've mentioned, wore his usual school-like uniform and had his scimitar at hand. The wind brushed through his black hair as he yawned. After doing some exploring on floor 4, he decided it would be fun to travel back down to the second floor to relax. Actually, it was the exact opposite. He was dreadfully bored and couldn't think of a single thing to do. The boy flopped over onto his stomach and groaned. All he could hear, other than the wind, was the loud, annoying boars that roamed the grassland beneath him. Their obnoxious voices made Helios want to slay each and every one of them, and he definitely would have if he had a better weapon. Unfortunately, he was stuck with the sword he was given when he entered the death game. To be completely honest, the noirette wasn't in the best of moods. It was most likely because he was tired though, since he had been sitting in that spot doing absolutely nothing for the entire day. He stuck his scimitar back in it's sheath, since he had taken it out to play with earlier that day, and began to roll down the hill, for no reason whatsoever. Of course, he never noticed the large rock that was lying in his path, so he rolled right into it. It was shaped like a ramp, and since Helios had built up enough speed from the roll down, he managed to launch himself up the rock and further down the hill. Quickly, the boy fell, hitting the ground and causing him to groan in agony. "Why did I do that." he sighed.

[Toothpick 0]

The Tobacco pipe spouted no fumes, yet it stuck out of Toothpick’s mouth regardless, it’s shaft the perfect subject to gnaw on. While he didn’t choose to make F2 the center of operations for his profession, it still remained one of his favorite floors, hence why it was there that he chose to go on a walk. A simple Mat farming stroll, nothing out of the ordinary, save for the hills. Toothpick prefered the peaking mountains over the hills on most days, but that day felt special, and thus, he trekked through grassy hills, rather than rocky paths. His path was uncharted, and potentially dangerous, but he didn’t mind, overconfident thanks to his recently purchased whip. Cloth flapped in the wind as his clothing fluttered, shirt parting from belt to reveal a dark brown belly, if only for a moment. He eyed a boar grazing a few meters away as he walked past, clutching the whip from its sheath, it snorted, and he loosened up. Another player was revealed to him as he walked around the slope of a hill from which they stood, they didn’t notice him, but he noticed them. “What is he…..” Toothpick muttered, he’d never seen anyone roll down a hill before, let alone with a ramp. He approached, “Are you ok?” the pipe bounced in his lip’s grip.