Lessa

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 54 HP: 820/820 EN: 120/120 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 45 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)

For transparency's sake, I'm signing up as a casual poster. I bet this shocks no one.

Spring Fling What? Spring Fling is a brand new OOC event. Rather than interacting IC, players will be given a list of "prompts" or "elements" to incorporate into the writing they are doing around the site. This allows writers to participate even if they're slow about posting, or their characters are just not the partying type; sometimes it can be difficult to shove your character into the "mold" of a site-wide IC event. Who? Players will be split into two teams. First, they will be separated by "casual poster" and "power poster," to ensure there is about an equal number of each o

Lessa grinned at the stranger, lifting a hand in both greeting and reassurance. "No, don't worry about it. Stay comfy. I get it." And she did, every cell in her body giving a collective sigh of contentment as she eased into the warm water. "This is heavenly," she breathed, closing her eyes to simply savor the moment. When it had passed, and her eyes had popped open once more, she swung her gaze to Jomei. "I saw Baldur on my way over," Lessa explained, shifting to position herself a few feet away from her red-haired friend. "He didn't have his PJs on, so I don't think he's sleeping yet. Bu

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 54 HP: 820/820 EN: 120/120 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 45 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 54 HP: 820/820 EN: 120/120 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 45 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)

At the sound of Baldur's voice, Lessa rocked onto the toes of her boots to peer over the horse's back. "Howdy yourself," she called back, grin somehow managing to grow with the man's arrival. Greta, on the other hand, gave him an appraising stare. Then she gave a non-committal hmph. "Definitely a warrior," she decided after a few seconds. "Definitely not a horse person." The Player laughed again, shaking her head as she watched Baldur circle the mare and come to rest beside her. "We won't hold that against him," Lessa replied, responding with an obligatory shoulder bump of her own. "

She grinned as he bowed, and of course, she replied in turn. With a flutter of her eyelashes and a practiced "princess wave," she let him shower her with praise. "Yes, yes, I know it may be overwhelming being in the company of such raw talent and immeasurable beauty," she crooned in a horrendous British accent. "But don't forget, I am a mere mortal. I bleed, just like you and all the other filthy casuals." Only when she'd dropped her hand again did the booming laugh escape her. "I'm glad you're impressed," Lessa told him, her usual Michiganian accent returning. "360NoScope and 420BlazeIt just

The short walk back to the party left her exhausted. The actual journey itself wasn’t the culprit, of course - she wasn’t that out of shape. But the few moments alone allowed her to finally decompress. Two fights, two victories, with the second a perfect performance. Or maybe it might have, had Alkor not been her partner. Nothing between them was perfect, as demonstrated by their exchange during and after the duel. He’d emptied her out, and filled her back up again, rubbed her raw, and still somehow left her feeling better about everything. Good and bad, black and white, he was so damn complic

“Yup,” Lessa confirmed, loosing a small sigh at the mention of them. “They’re my brothers. Triplets, actually, and older than me. I was the odd one out, but I did everything I could to be ‘one of the guys.’” Now she laughed softly, shaking her head. “I figure that’s why I’ve always been a little rough around the edges, and something of a tom-boy. I have no idea how to do my makeup right, or style my hair, or match my shoes to my shirt. But I dont shy away from hard work, and I like getting my hands dirty. Plus, my Call of Duty K:D is pretty impressive, which is what really matters, right?”

She'd showered him with compliments, and he hadn't responded in turn. In fact, he'd made quick work of reminding her that they weren't actually good for each other, and probably never would be. Charming, a small part of her thought wryly. But in truth, Lessa found she didn't particularly mind the lack of a response. Granted, a significant reason behind that was sheer exhaustion - why keep drilling in a field when you know there's simply no oil? But she also figured, just maybe, she was truly beginning to come to terms with what he was - and what he wasn't. And maybe that was enough.

"Maybe," Lessa replied, flashing him a grin as she plunged the tip of her massive blade into the ground. She leaned on it casually as she regarded the red-haired swordsman. "I was honestly a complete noob when I joined SAO. Now first person shooters, I was awesome at. Having to keep up with older brothers definitely improved my own skills, and more often than not, I beat them. I was decent at sporting games, too, and driving games. But all this stuff?" With one hand, the woman motioned to their surroundings. "Swords, and magic, and quests, and all that fancy stuff?" She blew out a hard breath

I didn't think you had it in you. Regret pricked at the back of her mind. Trash talk had been her second language before Aincrad, and she'd thrown insults around with the best of them. In fact, Alyssa had told many a young man to do wildly inappropriate things with their mothers in the heat of battle. So it seemed so foreign a concept that some people may not know that side of her. That they hadn't known her before this black cloud firmly affixed itself to the space above her head. But that's a lie. A small sigh of relief. If Jomei could see through that mask she couldn't s

“I’m…” Her voice trailed as Lessa lifted both hands, then let them drop again. How did she feel? Was she unhappy? “I’m nervous,” she finally decided. “The last time he and I dueled, it had a very big impact on us. And not in a good way.” Absently, she wiped her damp palms across her kimono’s pretty fabric. “It messed us up pretty bad, and I’m not sure we ever really talked it over.” No, that battle topped the list of times she and Alkor never came to an understanding. When he had run her through with the weapon she’d forged him, Lessa had seen him as a monster. His complete disregard for

Even as Alkor corrected himself, and encouraged her not to answer his question, Lessa lifted a hand to quiet him. “No,” she interjected, “I’ll answer it, because I do think you’ll understand.” That same hand found his, and as he drew her to her feet in a swirl of blue fabric and blonde hair, she offered him a smile as warm as the sun-streaked sky. And even if the expression was a bit sad along the edges, it was still a smile. “It’s just instinct. It’s that voice, telling me that if people love me, I must be doing something right. And if they’ve left me, then I must have wronged them somehow.”

Lessa tilted her face to the sun, focusing on the way it warmed her skin throughout Alkor’s dialogue. So many times, she wanted to interject. Every time, she caught herself before she could do so. He asked for quiet, even begged for it, when all she knew how to do was speak. He might as well have asked a bird to stay grounded, or a fish to cease its swimming. It was no wonder he drained her. He fell silent, and for the longest time, she said nothing. A splatter of applause from the nearby dojo marked the end of another fight, and the twinkle of windchimes and gargle of a water feature pai

"Hardy har har," she drawled, though she couldn't keep the smile from creeping onto her own lips. While the miss had been embarrassing, she recognized that she was not the first to ever whiff it, nor would she be the last. It was a game, after all, and sometimes she simply came up short. Jomei's good natured teasing also worked to lessen the blow. "I got the first one," she eventually replied. "I suppose I just wanted to see what kind of man you were, and if you could manage two of them." With a wink, she stepped between her companion and the three newcomers. As it always did, the need f

Cosmic lottery. Lessa couldn't help but grin at the man's use of the term. It had been a while since another Player had seemed genuinely pleased to bump into her, and the thought of it warmed her. "I'm always up for some exploring," she answered him, reaching down to scratch behind Okami's ear. Riker, apparently jealous of the attention, shoved his way between her leg and the other familiar. She snorted a small laugh, then gave her wolf a soft swat on the butt. "You need to learn to share," she informed him. Straightening, Lessa adjusted the belts that had gone askew as she'd bent over. H

For a moment, all Lessa could do was stare at him. She had just confessed to treating him like a trophy, not a human being, and he hadn't batted an eye. In fact, he seemed to ignore her words entirely, simply latching on to what she considered a less important part of her speech. Even his closing statement, my conflict might never end, felt like the echo of a long-ago declaration. How many times had she heard him speak those words, or similar ones? How many times had she attempted to change his mind, to provide comfort, to offer guidance. Her lips parted to do so again, but only a slow exhaled

At his reference to Lessa's new friend, she couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, I'd hate to let her down," she stated. "I'm entirely certain that woman could crush my skull with her thighs if I displeased her. Not saying it would be a bad way to go, but I'd rather not." Perhaps sensing that his prey's mind was elsewhere, the third and final hellhound gave a hellish growl, his maw twisted into a gruesome snarl. Had she not just seen his two companions go down so easily, Lessa might have found the visual for more frightening. When the creature hunkered down and prepared to strike, she did the sa

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 47 HP: 800/800 EN: 118/118 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 44 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)

꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, Guardian of Aincrad Level: 31 Paragon Level: 47 HP: 800/800 EN: 118/118 Stats: Damage: 28 Mitigation: 142 Accuracy: 4 Battle Healing: 44 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC)

It appeared that the sense of foreboding settled on both Freyd and Lessa at the same time. Even as the dark-haired man cautioned Levi, Lessa drew away from Baldur and along-side the NPC. Her hand came to rest on Arcael's Might's ornate hilt, and for the moment, all thought of the punishing cold left her. Even as the biting wind tugged at her loose hair, and sent snowflakes spinning like throwing stars, she remained on high alert. "I've got him," she reassured Freyd, her voice a mere murmur. Her intention wasn't to baby Levi, but rather put Freyd's mind at ease, so he might be more willing to c

Lessa wasn't sure that she believed in fate. But when Alkor's pivot took a second too long, and he exposed his back to her, she knew what she was meant to do. A sick sense of humor, she mused, even as she slid up behind him. Her body brushed along his, a featherlight touch that ended with her sword pressed to his spine. The pressure lasted only a heartbeat, before it, and she, disappeared. Withdrawing to her side of the mat, Lessa lapsed into silence. In a perhaps poetic parallel, their second fight had ended in much the same way as the first - quiet contemplation rather than whoops of joy. On

A lifetime ago, before duels, before Aincrad, before Alkor, Alyssa had spent a Tuesday morning in her childhood development class. The topic had been student anxiety, and the discussion had centered on something called ironic process theory. In essence, a person is more likely to think about something if expressly told not to. For example, telling a class not to worry about an upcoming test might, instead, trigger the opposite effect. "It's always better to get things out in the open," Professor Schab had explained. "Just talk through them. Address them. Don't lock them away, or convince yours