Mishiro

are you looking for that appraiser, dear? an old woman stopped her before she could pass the closed shop by. mishiro's eyes went upwards to the yellow cursor floating above its head. go right inside; she doesn't turn anyone down no matter the hour. the last thing she expected, then, was for said merchant girl to barge into her own shop and immediately accuse her of thievery. the last thing she expected, following that, was for said merchant girl to let out a high-pitched gasp as soon as their eyes met and immediately bow her head and apologize. perhaps this was also a p

"'m fine." she keeps walking, her eyes trained on the ground. had she given him any reason to ask? she mentally sifts through the events of the past few minutes but doesn't turn up anything in particular. "i just need to finish this." and i could maybe use a lighter cloak. true to pinball's word, it doesn't take them long to reach their destination. the journey was relatively painless compared to the last one but that was because it wasn't the point. the real danger waited ahead. at the brink of it, they slow to a pause for a moment (or she does, and her shadow doesn't leav

shale, screen your worry, from what you won't ever find. not long after the transfer, lyudochka called her over to headquarters. let’s make a habit of this, she said upon receiving her at her tea table. the last pair had gotten away with speaking almost exclusively through messages, apparently, and she had found the level of detachment disagreeable. she had incentive prepared: a slice of cake, even though mishiro would have come without it. i’ve read through your files and i have my own opinions from personal observation

her eyes linger on her companion. "...mn." after, then. there is a point where they would have to wait out the second quest's spawn timer and she can't imagine doing so in the middle of a volcanic field. she's dignified in this kind of suffering. she shakes her head sympathetically at pinball's complaint, doesn't offer anything more. best not to dwell on it. and she follows. they walk in silence, closely matching each other's pace. scarcely a few steps outside of yogan, and the land breaks into adjoining parts, narrow and wide, a peninsula of islands amid flowing river

the quest completion window appears in their individual views after a few moments delay. she had been staring emptily at the sand where some of terra firma’s shards still lay scattered, hardly cognizant of the loudest individual of their group celebrating the intactness of his hat, when the screen flashes before her eyes and pulls her back into focus. she studies it, almost disbelieving. this was… too easy. abdullah didn’t even want them to come back. their rewards are 5,000 col, conveniently sent through the quest system, a single scale that they can each take from terra firma, and

"you're in for a tough fight." they had agreed from the very start that information gathering, among all other things that had to be done in the safe zones, would entirely be left to her. it was a task she was rarely stuck with, if she were ever given any orders outside of the usual script at all, but fermata, as a guild specialized in the free exchange of information, liked to ensure that it is at least part of its members' basic skill set. so, she had found the broker without issue. conveyed to the only clinic in yogan from knorilt village in order to receive better treatment for its gr

all evidence of their skirmish, or that they had even been there at all, will soon be buried by the storm. mishiro, pressing her back against the inmost wall of the cavern, lets herself slowly slide downwards until she hits the ground. she hasn't let go of sibyl's rapier since. hadn't returned it to its sheath when the battle was done, hadn't quite realized what she was doing until they found shelter at the overhang. so, she does it now, detaching the longer sheath from her belt and sliding the bladed half back in. she sets it down beside her, strings side up, her wrist delicately balanci

"..." at half hp? "we're fine." the greatsword's blow had sent terra firma sprawling, the agile beast unable to so much as twitch a muscle as it lands in front of their fourth member. it is a perfect opportunity to land that strike they were waiting for and he squanders it, approaching the beast without raising his weapon. he pats it down, circles around it, and opens its jaw and puts his head between its teeth? mishiro hovers nearby in an almost open display of concern, unable to attack it lest she jolt the thing into dropping its jaw straight into their troublemaker's sku

the remaining two are furious. alone in the middle of a sandstorm, she had looked like an easy target but now their companion is dead. their attacks embolden. she tries to chain her sword art onto the second spear wielder, but against her expectations, the bandit doesn't care about taking a hit. she does. the blood in mishiro's veins turns into ice. another moment of indecision locks her into the system assist and directly into the weapon's path. and then -- a dagger through its back. another takes out the third. pinball lands halfway down the dune and mishiro races up to meet him. "zamek

in the distance, the horn sounds once again. she forces another sword art. a mind connected to a body connected to a weapon feels the soft warning tap as it knocks against the absolute limit of its abilities. the wild, uncontrolled burst that comes out clears half the two bandits' hp and allows her to break away. lurking behind, the third begins to shout in a different tone. heart racing, she skids further down the slope, the bandits following in hot pursuit. a single hit takes out a third of her hp. a third. they're scaling off of pinball and he isn't here to deal with them. she can

the man says west but his feet take him east. mishiro, a few steps behind, opening her mouth to correct him, realizes it's pointless since he's leading them in the right direction anyway and flutters her hand to her lips to cover a small, amused huff. pinball would recognize it for what it is, but on her mien, it is nearly indistinguishable from an exhalation of her breath. her humor in this moment is just as faint. as the awkward, mismatched band of three approaches the gate, mishiro, glimpsing the preview text of a notification at the corner of her eye, pulls her hood over her head and

none of those demands were addressed to her. mishiro backs up a step, her hand frozen over her weapon's hilt. the sandstorm picks up speed, obscuring her view of her companions down below, and the desert dwellers, unfazed, jeer at her in a loud and harsh tongue as they advance. they jab the points of their weapons at mishiro, sending her skittering backwards as she snaps her rapier out of its sheath, but they don't press the attack. she doesn't, either. she's paralyzed by indecision and can seem to do no more than draw back in retreat. a grave mistake. she runs out of level ground an

as soon as they concluded their triple quest relay, mishiro had wanted to go straight back to the desert. a few quests still remained that from her estimate were entirely within their ability to complete as a pair and rather than keep those dreaded lines in her books, continually having to consider some point in the future where they'll have to undergo the misery of venturing out of fortaleza again, she thought they could knock them off entirely while they were already miserable and the momentum was still high. it's just another day compared to the bliss of never having to come back here again

"stay back," mishiro tells zamek, who nods frantically in understanding, its eyes wide. she's leaving it behind. it won't come to any harm as long as they kill the sandworms fast enough. by the time pinball vanishes, she's already racing forward to assist. she unsheathes her blade, resists the instinct to sharpen her eyes against the dust kicked up into the air by the skirmish as the sandworms collapse into a massive writhing mass of tangled bodies and snapping jaws, each thrashing about in search of their prey. he can handle it. he does. daggers rain down from the air, nailing the m

despite it all, the tailor remains professional. she likes that in people. there is a moment where it appears as though he would ask, and not minding at all, she's already reviewing the usual script she has in her mind. but that too passes, and he's soon excusing himself to his crafting area, leaving mishiro some time to wander about the shop's interior and absentmindedly inspect the clothes on display. the wait doesn't take long. she takes her new cloak and the pristine white fabric spills into its full length as she unfolds it. as a light armor class, it is heavier and more durable

she doesn't look like she belongs here on this side of town but she doesn't appear lost either -- at least until she takes notice of the scene before her. the crusty bahrnacle's shop owner, standing behind the counter, handing back an item, stares down the man across from him with a dark scowl. tension lies thick in the air, and she immediately knows to avert her eyes to the floor at the first hint of either (or both) of the men turning to investigate the sound of the doorbell. she's clearly preparing to turn, politely apologize, and exit the situation when the men disperse on their own.

they pass the skeletons of structures once stood in the lands surrounding the settlement, now destroyed by sand. zamek doggedly walks on, battered, yet untoppled by the intensifying winds, the ends of its cloak flapping like a banner. it walks at half the speed of an ordinary person, and mishiro learns to dread every ascent along the dunes, where its pace slows to a crawl and they have to trudge along one step at a time. if they let it out of their sight for too long, zamek will simply vanish and cardinal will materialize another copy of it -- all the way back in fortaleza. they do k

at least the girl looks harmless, something in the intelligence driving this npc must have decided. it looks to her after receiving the fright of its life and, miraculously, it isn't excusing itself yet. it is driven by urgency. sands trickling down to the bottom half of the hourglass. who knows if another willing adventurer would soon pass this road? she has no sympathy for these creatures, but if pinball's sudden appearance had barely provoked a change in her expression, this wouldn't either. "we happen to be leaving town as well," mishiro amends, "for a simple gathering expedition

she listens to his steps fade into the distance as she polishes off her tea. she doesn't like leaving food (or drink) unfinished, even if it is bitter, even if the spoonfuls of honey that he added had settled at the bottom of the cup from her waiting and turned the last few sips nauseatingly sweet. he had made it for her. isn't it only fair to pay it back? before she returns to her room to prepare, she gathers both cups and deposits them into her inventory. any leftovers will eventually dissolve, given enough time. the heavy wooden door slides shut. the sky is stil

at first, it is as though she hadn't even heard him. the silence returns, and it wraps around her, a heavy, tangible thing, the hum of the ornamental rapier sliding back into its sheath muted even amidst echoing stone walls. "here," pinball speaks again, and the expectation in his voice compels her to finally turn and meet him face to face. he's fully armored, if one could call it that. her eyes wander from the clasp of his tall black cloak to the pair of identical teacups he's holding in each hand. the sight of it warms her a little and she accepts the one that he passes to her. mis

a corpse is talking.

-> WRAP YOUR NAME TIGHT AROUND MY RIBS AND TELL ME I WAS BORN FOR YOU ->

a corpse is talking. sometimes sword art online rewrites the rules of its own reality and jolts them all with a cruel reminder. that everything in this world they have been living in for the past decade is just data. fallible. somewhere in a place far out of their reach, a governing entity decides upon these changes according to a purpose none of them have been able to discern. and this is not peace. this is not bliss. she does not know how she could have believed otherwise. mishiro had awoken to a sky yet untouched by the su

Name: Jack's Lament -> Walpurgisnacht Item Type: Martial Arts -> Rapier Tier: 3 Quality: Demonic Enhancements: Cursed, Fallen, Blight, Vampiric (Offensive) -> Cursed, Fallen, Absolute Accuracy, Vampiric (Offensive) Description: No one knows where it came from. -> [ref] It is a talisman. Your victory lies not in bloodshed, but in your own survival. Do you understand? Even if the skies are never rent open, Roslyn, Lyudochka, you will live another day to watch the falling snow gather on your hands. 'Til the end of this holy night. Post Link: [>>] [Used:] Braso C

I FORGOR Braso Crystal-A | Removes one enhancement on a weapon and replaces it with Absolute Accuracy. (This effect cannot override the Absolute Accuracy enhancement cap. Consumed on use.)