Oscar

Oscar had certainly made his bed with this party. Now, he had to lie in it. He was in good company, he thought. But he thought that he could handle it. His own den of desire, a corner of their virtual prison clawed out from Cardinal’s hands. It was his. He wanted to share it. But now, his entire being screamed at him to leave it behind. This was dangerous. Intense. She would be the death of him. Some part of him, at least. Notions he had about his own state of being shattered as she looked up at him. She trembled. He did too. Why? What wound them so tightly together? What a

“I know enough,” Oscar said. Best to not get too close. Last thing he needed was the guilt that came from humanizing his targets. His last mental had brought him to the edge of Aincrad - almost careening off of it. It was a complicated thing, his little blood feud. He was sure that, at some point, the members had their reasons. But that had long since become irrelevant. So long as their mission was to kill other Players, someone needed to be the one to kill them back. “Shop talk is boring, anyway,” he said, an air of conclusion to his tone. He’d not brought Mari here to plunder her for in

“Most would call that hedonism,” Oscar replied, his voice muffled against her jaw. There was something intoxicating about this woman. Like the stiffest drink he’d ever had - he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so foggy. There was something about her. The way she carried herself. As if she were partaking in something she had long since denied. Or… Perhaps she was ignorant of its existence. Words spoken just moments prior seemed so far away. But it was in her manner of speech, the way she carried herself. Magnanimous in every sense of the word. Grace that the geniuses of old had the hubri

Approved

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