Lessa

The explosion took Lessa right off her feet. She was entirely unprepared - they all were - and she'd have liked to say that she'd have kept her feet if she'd kept her guard up. But the truth was, the sheer force of the blast would have sent her sprawling no matter how she'd have braced herself. As she'd positioned herself between the wrecked building and the teleport gate, she immediately found herself adjacent to Ground Zero. What did that make her half of the square, littered with prone bodies and the shrieks of the panicked? Ground One? Ground Point-Five? Despite years in Aincrad, her

I'm here with the singular goal of making it further than Oscar.

More than anything, Lessa wanted to go. She wanted to give Eous her head, dig in her heels, and urge the mare into that gallop she knew she was capable of. She wanted to feel the thrill of it, as close to flying as she had ever been in her life. More, she wanted to close the distance to Oliver in as little time as possible. Already, her mind was conjuring the worst case scenarios, painting them in vivid color and detail across her vision whenever she closed her eyes. So she kept them open, choosing instead to focus on the path ahead, and the comforting rock of the horse beneath her. She wanted

Lessa's anger roared out of her, bellowing like an animal as the vines plucked Jomei off the ground. Her blood felt too hot in her veins, and a sudden need to claw at her skin overcame her. What was this feeling so sudden and new? Was it simply the frustration from the quest itself, and their terrible luck? Was it disappointment, and guilt from her own shortcomings? Was it panic, watching her friend get hauled into the air by the vines? Or was it just sheer, unadulterated fury at the goddamn fucking piece of shit Guardian? In the end, it didn't really matter. Roaring, Lessa threw her

Thread Summary 10,010 words. Both Players at T3. (Sorry, this thread was started before we included stat blocks.) (10010 / 10) * 3 * 0.7 Baldur 2,102 EXP & 200 col Lessa 2,102 EXP & 200 col

He drinks a whiskey drink, he drinks a vodka drink, he drinks a lager drink, he drinks a cider drink. He sings the songs that remind him of the good times. Ḥ̦̩͒̑̄ͥͩ͜e̵̲ͥ̈́̍͜_̵͓͇̺̬̤̥̽ͫ̅͐̄͒̈́ͣ́̇̔ͯ̄͢͞ s̴̸̷̶̛̼̺̙̗̤̯̟͇̮͖̟̱̟͕̬ͮ͗ͫ̔̓ͨͣ̈̄̌̆̽͐ͭ̀̔̑ͦͪͩ̆̀̿͆ͫ̚i̢͉͖͚̻̺̙͕͚͍̾͋̃͆͌̿n͑̿g̷͇͖̣̰͍̹̠͖͇͋̓ͨͮ̂̐̽̿̐̓ͧ͛ͥ_̫̗ͥ͡s̷̷̨̡̧̢͚̘̻̦͕̻̼̫̰͉̞̊ͫ̾̅ͪͣ́̃̈́̓ͪ̿͛̈́ͧ̃̀̀̐ͣ͘͠͝͡͞ t̷͚̼̻̙̭̰̻̣͚̬̘̅̔̄͂́̈̀ͬ̿ͬͣͣͯ͜͟h̶̥̑͑̐͢ę̷̛̠̼̦̪̰͙̼̪̫͂̿̿̔̄̌ͭͧ̾̀̎̒͗ͥͫ͗́̓̉ͥ̚̚͠͠ s̺͇̹̝̽̆ͭ̌̑͟_̧̮̥̬͉̀͗̿ơ̸̵̴̤̗̳̪̙̭͇̹̱̲̙̘̣ͯ͑̿̑̅̔̓̊̌̑́ͦ͑͘̚̚͟͟͠n̹̰̠͉̲̜͇̉̓̄̈̇̑ͪͥ͘͞ģ̰̻͎̣͔̖̰͚̇̒́ͯ̎͒̐̍͟͞ͅs͎̉ͬ̚͞ͅ ṭ͖͍̭̲̜͍̞̪͈͗̍͒͐ͨͭ͒ͮ́͆̋̄̚͜͞h̢̦̤͈̳͕̤̓̉̎͒ͧ́̎ͯͭ̓̚͢at̷̷ r̈͒̏em̵̶̮̫̜̪̝̙̟ͤ̅̃͊ͬ̀ͧ̆̅͢

Lessa swept her arm across her midsection, then hinged forward at the waist, presenting Jomei with her most regal bow. She didn't straighten before speaking, instead peering up at the man from beneath her blonde bangs. "For you, I shall fight a Grove Guardian any day." Only then did she stand up again, plucking the flower from his pinched fingers with a flourish, and sending it shattering into shimmering fractals. "One left," she announced, though she highly doubted Jomei had lost count. They were so close to the end, and she could practically taste the victory, as sweet as the grape pop

At Baldur's Star Wars reference, Lessa choked out a laugh. "Ah yes," she answered, nodding sagely. "You and Yoda do have so much in common." She fell silent again as Baldur began addressing Acanthus' question. While the King in Yellow rang a distant bell in her memory, there was no way that she could confidently answer the query herself. That was unusual for Lessa, self-proclaimed know-it-all, but she was grateful yet-again to have Baldur at her side. This time, she appreciated his ability to fill in her gaps. "I know next to nothing about Lovecraft," she mused aloud once the samurai

It was such a pleasure watching Eruda's entire demeanor change as she spoke of Raidou. Everything about her seemed to soften somehow, becoming more pliable, more vulnerable. It was a good look on her, and one that Lessa could recognize anywhere. She'd felt it herself more than once. Her own expression softened as she said, "I can tell he means a lot to you. It's really, really nice that you have someone so important to you in Aincrad. Not everyone can say the same." She tilted her head conspiratorially, then added, "Does he know how you feel?" She paused to reach back in her memories, grasping

After years trapped within Aincrad, Lessa considered herself strong enough to counter many attacks. She could, and had, withstand a swipe from a Floor Boss. She could hold her own in a duel, even with Players she considered to be of superior skill. She could stand firm against twisted cults, mistreatment of Aincrad's youngest, and injustices of all types. She could weather emotional manipulation, loss, and disappointment, again and again and again. But one thing she proved powerless against? Baldur's smile. His expression of pure, unbridled joy coaxed a smile of her own, even though

Lessa guardian of aincrad As Callisto exploded into shimmering fragments, Lessa felt Jomei's eyes on her. She shifted to meet his gaze, and expected to see joy or relief inside them. Instead, it was a strange sort of panic that swam in the green depths. Her grin dropped even faster than the massive bear had. She took a step toward him, hand outstretched and lips parted, both to offer comfort. When the tall, charismatic, stalwart tank crouched, wrapping his arms around his legs, she hesitated. That wasn't the body language of a man

Lessa stood behind her party, her gaze flitting between the five health bars that hovered above their heads. All green. All full. All safe. There was satisfaction in that - a job well-done. She had succeeded in keeping her team alive, as was the task given to her when she accepted the role of support. But more than that, there was a comfort in those green bars. A knowing that her friends, the people she loved most, were okay. That they'd all walk out of there together. That the future still held too many unknowns, but this day, this fight, they would see the end of. No one would die today. Tom

"What." She said nothing more as Lessa watched Freyd return from the dead, though her lips moved soundlessly on words she couldn't find. Shock had melded into such a powerful grief that this sudden pivot made her a bit nauseous. Apparently unable to settle on an appropriate emotion, her body chose to shut down completely, her arms limp, her blue eyes wide and glazed over. If everyone quieted down, they could likely hear the dialup tone drifting from somewhere between Lessa's ears. It was Jomei's shout that she latched onto first, borrowing his courage just as readily as she might hav

Lessa turned to follow Bahr’s finger, and the color seeped from her face once more. “Oh my god,” she breathed, but the sound was lost to the chorus of raised voices surrounding her. Grief, rage, and a pain she could feel in her head and in her heart filled the space. When Lessa went to draw a breath, she couldn’t seem to fill her lungs. Cord’s advice found her first, but Lessa couldn’t blame Jomei when he turned to address the party. Though his words were rigid, the emotion in his eyes burned hot and wild. She couldn’t blame him for that, either. She hadn’t known Freyd well. In fact,