Arabelle

[11/12/2024] # aarti: 14

# this is a work in progress. i am bundling this into a single mass eval. [DIWALI]: Of Celebrations Near and Far | 30 Aarti

[11/11/2024] # aarti: 16

--

"...i must have pocketed some of andromeda's junk." (received.)

she is almost embarrassed to say -- she has ridden horses so few times in aincrad that she has to be retaught at every occurrence. but why not try again today? she is on a leisure trip and perhaps the lesson might stick for once. the stablehand, who introduces herself as ashvini, sets aside her work for a moment to teach her the basics. mounting and dismounting, the correct posture, the correct hand and foot movements to direct the horse where and how fast to go, the do's and the do not's. she guides the gentlest mare out of a stall and offers arabelle an apple to feed it. arabelle ginger

foolish half-dead beast! it is not even moving! who pauses if even to take a breath in the middle of a hunt? if she had stopped even once, it would have been a strike across her name! another shot rips through her scythe. as the great bear stews in its fury, in its arrogant incredulity that it cannot crush these wasps to death with a single move, arabelle swings wildly, searing another gaping wound into its side. and she makes it back in time for roll call like a good girl. "right here...! i'm fine!" she gasps. she lands at -- bahr's -- side, smiles brightly as though she were m

the beast opens its emptied jaws. arabelle prises herself from her own violence at the last moment, and the air shakes with a tremendous howl. through no will of her own, her weaker hand races up to cover an ear and her balance tips sideways mid-evasion -- amaterasu is heavy enough for two hands, near impossible to hold with only one. an entire swath of green vanishes from her health bar. 40%: she is struck by the strange sensation that she was sent flying. that callisto had caught up to her with a swipe of its massive paw though all system mechanics dictated she would never have been a t

-> aoe-i vs hellhounds 1-4 [4/9 hellhounds slain]

another! she is on the hunt and she is reaping the benefits of a slow-moving quarry. ah, but everyone else is swarming it! she'd rather not the trouble of accidentally cleaving one of their own in half. she waits. someone lands beside her. "oh..." the judder of a note. light. callisto the tainted rampages -- and arabelle is holding up her free hand, finding it covered in a blue-violet glow. very lovely. very useful. she nods, a smile softening her expression when the support player finishes explaining. lessa, her name is? she knows what [hyperactive] does but a little encou

all dice thrown. her piece barely makes it a third of the way through. the woman looks faintly dismayed, but her mood brightens when jai turns around and starts to rummage about his stall for a prize. from a bowl, he takes five individually wrapped treats and places them in a small paper bag, which he hands to her with a smile. "thank you very much! see you!" ...are these sweets? arabelle exits the game stall, already peering into the bag. she fishes out a 'ball' but doesn't unwrap it and lets the info window do all the discovering for her. they are called 'laddu' -- unfamiliar

rot. rot. rot. she reaches into the air and catches a fistful of falling petals before they could be trampled into the ground like the rest. vibrant red, shapes narrow and curled at the ends, she rubs the leaves between her fingertips and the sap that comes forth dirties her laced gloves. they died the moment they were plucked from their stems, but she could still press them. entrap their image in a place under her care. she did the very same for the diseased plants in her garden, one lifetime ago. but when she opens her hand, the flowers are already withered. she had not saved them

stranger things have happened. arabelle doesn't question it. (received.)

arabelle takes the proffered hand. they exchange a firm shake, then her hand rejoins the other behind her back, fingers locking together like a cradle. "maybe i do believe you. eva tanking, is it? only the boss can judge its viability in the end, but then again, that goes for everything we've brought to the table. either way, the entire team is here to back you up, if i may speak in their stead." here comes one of them now. "arabelle." another handshake. another return of her hand to its concealment afterward. "aoe dps -- oh my, your sword. it's beautiful." glimmering red eyes linger on t

buying t4 immolation potion [1200 col]

got this, thank you! ♡

the third and final stop: floor 28. far too many things have died here. she passes wide open gates, quiet, almost-reminiscent of bygone days, when the places further beyond had been as unreachable as oblivion itself. she's here, lars. but you're too dead to care. she thinks of a weight on her shoulder, a piano, and endless hours spent in a worthless imitation of a church, and she presses forward into the darkness. "thank you kindly." a faint liquor scent clings to the woman, compliments of a single drink from the sour rumor. of course her shopping spree was for the boss battle,

the second stop: some equally seedy-looking boy in the middle of a random wilderness. arabelle is beginning to see a trend within the price comparison charts she had drawn up. she’s thinking of ignoring them entirely the next time -- it is not like she is wanting for money. but that aside, she’s already here. “hello! accuracy and overhealth buffs, please. one of each.” should she buy a feast for her party? she thinks on it as the wandering chef prepares her order but eventually decides otherwise. too little time. she makes mental note of that for the next boss battle. if there i

the first stop: some seedy-looking bar in floor 13. …floor 13? she can’t imagine this place gets plenty of surprise customers. unless-- “hello! i need an antidote, damage and mitigation buffs, and healing crystals,” arabelle recites as soon as she reaches the bar. “all of the-- oh, just five healing crystals should suffice, then. and one each of the rest.” she’s guessing the restriction disallows richer players from buying out the tavernkeeper’s stock in a single night. as they both busy themselves with their respective transaction windows, her red eyes drift over to the drinks menu.

Arabelle: They're beautiful. Arabelle: Thank you! [Arabelle has left the group chat.]

the document bounces from one player to another, names quickly filling up the party and role slots. not everyone announces themselves while jotting their name down, and it is to the relief of the entire meeting that a few support-oriented builds had been lurking among the attendees, they were just waiting to be called on. and the latecomers and no-shows: arabelle is surprised that there are even any at all. isn't this one of the most daunting trials in this world? the only step that cardinal counts as their progress -- and they are unable to take it more than twice in a single year. so ar

--this godforsaken floor again. she's ahead of the other two and unaware that the quest had taken in more players in the first place. gravel crunching beneath her feet, the sting of sulfur in the air, her white robes are gone, replaced by light but practical traveling gear. the last thing she wants is to dirty her favorite clothes with soot. arabelle had been here an entire lifetime ago with less than pleasurable company. she's not eager to be making the trip back but cardinal had thought it funny, apparently, to rewrite the whole quest and lock a new sword art behind it, and just ye

after freyd calls the meeting, arabelle floats over to the refreshments table to drop off her donuts. she tucks the plastic down to the boxes’ side and cracks open the top carton. a player from their circle whom astralin had called jomei trails after her and avails himself of the first sweet treat, but being in a rush to find a seat herself, arabelle simply gives a polite nod at his thanks. she swipes a hot drink and squeezes into a seat just as freyd begins to talk. so this is how it goes: aincrad’s strongest guessing at vague impressions in the dark. at least two players appeared to be

arabelle waves as koga points her to... the man quite literally beside him. "hello! congratulations and best wishes to you and your wife." (wouldn't it be funny if one of you simply up and died in the boss raid?) "and a spectacular one it is," she confirms to koga. "my own offering seems so awfully quaint in comparison. perhaps next floor i'll bring an entire food truck. better late than never, right?" the next proffered hand, she takes with ease. "good to meet you, star." she lifts her head to look this one in the eyes properly and recognition hits her like a bolt.

she remembers every face she comes across. coincidentally, everyone here is a stranger. all the circles she ran around players who were far stronger than her landed her in an obscure position. she seeks to amend that. "arabelle," the woman says gratefully, shaking koga's hand. so, contrary to her assumption, one (or two) of them is mad enough to disrupt one of the most important days of their lives for something so tedious and nerve-wracking as raid planning, and the rest had simply let it happen. there's a fascinating story here; she already wants to pry into it. "i did not hear of