Arabelle

floor 24. raitoboru bay. __/__/____: __:__. tipsy, bored, and scheming, arabelle picks up the call. except -- the lines must have gotten twisted up somewhere and the sources in her web fired off a different message entirely. this venue is clearly holding a wedding reception. rows of plastic chairs divided by a petal-salted aisle, a makeshift altar framed by pillars of lovely flowers, catering, and attendees in clothes far too thick for the weather. her best wishes to the husband and wife, however, she's already charged up her killing mood. the uninvited(?) guest(??), holding wit

well, that was an awful idea, arabelle realized as she was testing her equipment loadouts the other day. dropping as many damaging enhancements on a weapon as she could was useless if she wasn't hitting a certain level of precision. fortunately, she had a stack of tickets from years back that could help her with this exact scenario. and a sweet, easily-charmed appraiser who lives in her shop 24/7. "an, love." one hour before opening, arabelle presents a familiar weapon to the appraiser. "do a favor for me? i need to take back this roll and turn it into an accuracy slot."

you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand. 20(28) between her fingers, margaret turned and turned a glass. stars, planet, void, and cosmos swam in languorous circles, like tiny fish drifting away from disturbances in the water. trapped in a palm-sized orb, the model universe comprised a kaleidoscope of colors, none of them aligned. every movement produced a different image than the one before. pinprick celestial bodies crashed and stuck together like magnets, then split against a stronger current. the orange planet dri

fin.

| HOUSE | FAMILIAR

| EXHIBIT

| inventory [□][-][x] ▓ PRESETS | glossary [□][-][x] ▓ WEAPONS ▒ ARMOR ▓ ACCESSORIES ▒ CONSUMABLES ▓ KEY ITEMS

Skill(s) Being Dropped: Parry Mod(s)/Addon(s)/Shift(s) Being Dropped: Vengeful Riposte SP Refunded: 16 Cost: 16,000 Col

LEVEL 38 BASE 33; PARAGON 5 HP 680 | EN 106 | DMG 23 MIT 20 | ACC 1 | EVA 1 | BH 5% LD 5 . ❀ . ▓ PARAGON LEVEL REWARDS +20 HP; +2 EN; +5 SP PARAGON 5 | Laurel Wreath | Earn Col equivalent to 15% of player’s EXP earned in thread. ▒ SKILLS ▓ PERMANENT BUFFS

it's your favorite magical girl! ♡

no matter, she will tolerate being part of the flock until she found answers on her own. she had moved up from the place where she previously stood -- upwards to the peak of a barricade made up of piled-up desks, then to a second-floor ledge when a couple of npcs attempted to follow, the mount sent crashing down behind her. she turned her head, peered into the window in mild curiosity, and only saw drawn curtains and her reflection. ladonian, galtean, they all looked the same to her. charcoal covered hands. clothes sticking to their skin with sweat. they were a single wriggling body

(oh, she thought, she must be doing very well, to draw that out of him.) up went arabelle's sword, and she would've socked the man on the underside of his jaw had she not reduced the momentum at the last second. the resulting hit became a soft tap. they were back to the same score, but there was one point left between them and she expected the increased pressure was getting to him. because it was getting to her: the blood thrumming beneath her fingertips, the feeling that she was on the knife-edge of breaking the contemplative calm of her expression. she liked the occasional c

good fortune that it took more than a failed plot for arabelle to lose her wits. she wasn't going to fall back on less tasteful habits; far from it in a harmless duel with a crowd on every side, but surrendering had been the farthest thing from her mind when the sword came straight for the peak of her shoulder, she wanted to angle her bokken differently, to thrust the point into morgenstern's knee milliseconds after his blow was slated to land. mid-swing, morgenstern stopped. immediately, arabelle locked her movements in place. and stopped breathing. it was easier that way. the

. . . . . . . 鏡 if anyone were to point at the newcomer and say "this woman came from the nobles district. i saw her indulging in a glass of wine through a third-floor window," arabelle would have about a dozen choreographed responses ripe for the picking from the time she spent dwelling on the subject within her mind as she hopped from roof to roof in hastily changed musketeer attire, nobles district to lower ladonia. however, as the present crowd looked like a moral bunch, she would have to cross out the one closest to

. . . . . . . 鏡 strolling to the center of the dojo, arabelle let her gaze wander over the guests who kept to the walls. it was in good sense that the dueling pairs would only have their eyes on their respective matches, so if there were any pair of eyes she felt she needed to devote her spare energy worrying about, it would be from those dedicated to spectating. oh, was that cordelia? arabelle slowed her steps, and if the disturbance within the flow of movement in the dojo caught the other's attention, she would hol

鏡 arabelle had been here before, at the periphery of a floor boss meeting some couple of months ago. she had left educated on the goings-on within the frontlines, the landmark battles, and not much else. with a frontline-tied trading guild in attendance, anything an independent crafter had to offer was plain redundant, so she had taken the courtesy of making herself scarce right after, leaving quickly after she gave her regards to the few people she had greeted. she had to tamp down her natural embarrassment upon her recognition of the venue before she sent an e

. . . . . . . 鏡 text color (top): #aaaaaa

no matter, she will tolerate being part of the flock until she found answers on her own. she had moved up from the place where she previously stood -- upwards to the peak of a barricade made up of piled-up desks, then to a second-floor ledge when a couple of npcs attempted to follow, the mount sent crashing down behind her. she turned her head, peered into the window in mild curiosity, and only saw drawn curtains and her reflection. ladonian, galtean, they all looked the same to her. charcoal covered hands. clothes sticking to their skin with sweat. they were a single wriggling body

the prize location is a rarity; a willing companion not much so. (aka inactive writer needs to shock themself back into writing.)

Approved.

Approved.

Approved. Edit [09/25/2021] + 1 Demonic Shard from here.

Approved.

Approved.

Approved.