Pinball

His damage was buffed. He was quick to throw another attack. He had settled into his role now; the other teams seemed to be on top of popping Perpetuate crystals, so that meant he could take a less active approach to the boss fight and instead focus on helping his party in the best way he could. Delay seemed to be an important effect to try and keep active. He wasn't sure how much it helped, really, but if it could help at all then it was probably something worth doing. The last thing they wanted to do was to face tank another party wide AOE. Watching his health drop down to less than half was

He was mostly unfamiliar with what lighting the lamps would entail. But he didn’t need to. Mishiro was always quick to fill him in on such things. He was not surprised to find that it involved airing out incredibly personal information, but he wasn’t too happy about it either. Pinball tried not to let that show. “You can,” he said. "I'll listen." Pinball got quiet. He let her speak. She had parents. Or did she? Her form lost clarity in the shadows, not entirely unlike the past she couldn’t quite seem to grasp. Pinball watched her struggle with the memories. The disconnect was not lost on him,

He let the others talk. His health was back to full -- like they'd planned for them to, the crystals did their work. Lessa had respecced into a Support role at some point, too, and she played a big part in the restoration of their party. He could breathe easy, for now. They hadn't yet reached half health, which is when there usually was some updated mechanics, but if they could keep the pace without crashing and burning. Callisto showed no real sign of letting up, but neither did the frontlines. It didn't seem as though anybody was in trouble yet. They'd keep fighting for as long as they could

She seemed surprised to see him here. A part of him was surprised, too. Unstealthed in the thick of a festive crowd, it made him feel naked, exposed; it went against his very nature. He focused on her. It grounded him. Made it just a little more bearable. His response was automatic, reflexive, though no less genuine for it: “Of course.” The NPC was hesitant, understandably, but Sibyl offered him his lantern. Pinball nodded, quiet. It had been a long time, and there was nothing he felt he could have said to appropriately fill the silence that followed. They hadn’t talked in weeks. H

The bear flew into a frenzy, hitting the entire party for absolutely massive amounts of damage. Pinball's heart skipped a beat as he watched his health drop to nearly a quarter of what it was -- and then he steadied himself. He couldn't afford to freak out. It was a good thing he couldn't remember the last time that he did freak out. Pinball swiped his inventory open with haste -- Jomei and Bahr were quick with the crystals, and he knew Lessa probably wasn't going to let the AOE slide without healing them back up too. That gave him the time that he needed to redo his antidote. Pinball chugged

He didn’t mesh well with festivals of any kind, really. Too many people. Too many bad memories. Staying home was usually preferable. Usually. He was on the 27th Floor, walking beneath Ronbaru’s perpetual night, and he followed the lights. Pinball walked through the festival in stealth, slipping through the crowds of players and NPCs, taking little notice of the stalls lining the streets. Food, trinkets, clothes -- a colorful assortment of vanity items to clog the inventory of those who were interested in such things. There were games, which seemed to occupy the attention of most of the p

Morningstar didn't respond to Wulfrin's question. Pinball didn't either. ph ***

Nope, wrong. Incorrect. He'd made a bad play, and wasted his Vanish. He'd done it out of reflex, following his usual combat rotation, but he wasn't fighting alone anymore. It wouldn't be of the same benefit to him if he only refreshed a select few DoTs when the whole raid had their own as well. He had to be a team player. Pinball (begrudgingly) emerged from stealth, his expression sour and his blades in hand. He didn't run up to the boss. Too crowded. He hung back and flung a pair of knives into it for some more chip damage and retrieved another crytal -- this time a Perpetuate -- to hold alof

He'd experienced boss fights twice now (three times?) and each time, there was a whole bunch of people who would shout out threats and quirky one liners. Why? It couldn't understand you. Not in the same way that a person could. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Was it something they did because they were scared? Stupid? Did it make them feel better? Sometimes he couldn't help but feel that people forgot they were trapped in a game. Wasn't that a funny thought? Whatever. It wasn't hurting him, and it wasn't his place to comment on it. He emerged from the shadows like an animal from an

They'd made it through the first attack squad well enough, and they weren't at all in bad shape in terms of health and energy. That was a good thing. The soldiers seemed much more concerned with breaking through the town's defenses and razing it to the ground than actually fighting back against them. That was also a good thing? Regardless, hey were doing a good job of keeping the soldiers incapacitated. Stunned, paralyzed, frozen; whatever worked. He was thankful that the army opted to attack in waves instead of deploying in full force. Another one of reality's reminders, undoubtedly. Had they

"You wouldn't be," he assured her. His mind was already made up on the matter; but he'd let it rest. They linked arms and vanished in a pillar of light. Glyndebourne. Pinball had never been. There had never been a reason for him to. The floor was certainly pretty, but he'd stopped visiting places for the views alone. He mostly kept to himself, wandering the dark stone halls of Green Garden and working his way through the sometimes admittedly boring tomes collecting dust in his library. He left to quest, occasionally, and not for much else. But there was something about the city that seem

"Huh?" Whatever trance-like state he'd found himself lost in, Bahr's voice snapped him out of. Pinball hadn't noticed Bahr's approach at all; when had that ever happened? He grimaced. Shook his head. "Sorry." Despite the quiet surrounding the entrance of the boss room, he couldn't help but feel as though Bahr was thinking the same things he was. Pinball wasn't sure what he was doing, or why he was doing it; and more importantly, it bothered him to no end that he was allowed to. An orange cursor helping out on the frontlines. What a joke. Pinball exhaled sharply. Bahr reminded him that he

He was placed on Team Four. He didn't know their tank, Jomei, except by name; but the others he knew fairly well. Bahr, Lessa, Arabelle, and Cordelia -- though his relationship with the latter two was underdeveloped (for lack of a better word) compared to the former, he was at least thankful to be placed in a team full of familiar faces. Pinball was able to pick out the members of his group conversing among the other frontliners. He had no interest in joining them. He went off to linger by himself, working his way through his consumables and getting his Battle Ready Inventory organized. In his

accepting everything

yoinking luminous ty

The last minute prep was real. He was able to track Demian down again, thankfully, and found him on a floor different than the other two(? three?) times he'd found him before. Pinball was only after one thing this time, however. He found the Overhealth consumable that he was after and paid for it quickly. He didn't want to take up too much of the young man's time, and similarly, Pinball didn't have the time to waste. He accepted the presumably tasteless Beef Stew, paid his dues, and disappeared back to where Pinball had come. All that was left were the Antidotes. He could visit Oz for that. He

It was late. Really late. The raid was today, and was slated to start in just a few hours; it was under this context that Pinball slipped into Bahr's shop, his eyes darting from corner to darkened corner. "Ring, ring," he called. Was anyone home? He spotted the man, hopefully not on his way out the door. He was surprised. He expected him to have been at the raid already. Maybe he was also making last minute preparations. "Sorry," he apologized. "I need these items fused. I've got the scale and shard for you." Pinball sent them over quickly. Time was of the essence. "Into the cloak,

yoink!

tossing this to @Morningstar [228814] Unidentified T4 Perfect Armor/Shield with one guaranteed Unique Enhancement

<<THREAD SUMMARY>> Pinball Receives: Pinball | [Word Count: 6903/10 = 690.3] * [True Tier: 8] * [Group Factor: 1] = 5522 + 2880 (Dungeon Reward) = 8,402 EXP TOTAL COL: 432304 + 828 (Laurel Wreath) = 433,132 COL MATERIALS: 220 Materials And all this shit:

He was trying to get prepared for the boss fight. Had the fight been announced sooner than he'd expected? Yes. Should he have started his preparation a lot sooner anyways? Also yes. But he hadn't, and now he was scurrying around at the last possible minute trying to get his gear situation fixed. He hadn't joined a frontline fight in a long time. His set was woefully outdated. Pinball slid into The Evening Star, the only place he knew where he might be able to get a fusion done quickly. "These two need to be fused," he said. He left them with her. He'd be back as soon as possible for them

thank you so much!

Four left. The last of the bears. The final countdown. Pinball cut through the rest of them. He stabbed, sliced, and gutted them to his heart's content. He enjoyed it to the fullest; not the act of killing them. Grinding mobs had lost its charms what felt like years ago. But there was something still very satisfying about completing a task, or about finishing the job. He was happy, knowing that his yard would once again be cleared, and his garden would once again be quiet. He looked forward to walking back into Green Garden and resting his head for a nap. He killed the remaining four with ruth

Eight left. He could see it now. The clearing was clear, in a way that it hadn't been for a good long while. Pinball cut through the remaining four of them in rapid succession. He got close. Still, even though they had all the room in the world, and he was very obviously mowing through their siblings, cousins, friends, whatever; the bears did not react. They kept huffing and trampling the grass and being otherwise fat and annoying bears, and Pinball wanted them gone. He cut through them, one by one. His knives flash and the blades glowed violently. How long had he been at it? Maybe an hour, ma

He didn't stop. He didn't slow. The bears kept grunting and ambling around aimlessly, and Pinball kept killing them. There were only a few left, now, and he was getting rather eager to see the last of them gone. All this fighting had made him a little tired, though of course not physically, and he was looking forward to going back inside and taking a nap without any bears outside his window trampling the flowers and being loud and obnoxious. Pinball cut through another group. They were shattered, scattered, destroyed, and like clockwork, Pinball set his eyes on the next group of them. How many