Oscar

ph

Skill(s) Being Dropped: Charge, Grappling Familiar Mod(s)/Addon(s)/Shift(s) Being Dropped: N/A SP Incurred Towards Limit: 20 SP Refunded: 20 Cost: 20k Col

Maybe it was a bit too hopeful to pull a repeat of the last round. As if insulted by Oscar's simple logic, the bear made sure they were all tripping balls at the end. A welcome turn of events. It was hard to conceptualize the risks and dangers the game when a bear was befuddling your perception. Oscar could see it all. The fire of creation. Everything was a cycle, like a hot dog on a gas station roller. Trundling on and on, molded and changed by its environment. The searing, blistering heat. Life was like a hot dog, he realized, as he watched the cosmos unfold before him. Swirling nebula

Oh, Freyd was alive. How exactly had that happened? Oscar had been overcome by such a raging hate boner and now the source of the hate had dried up. Happy as he was to see his homie alive and kicking (though he had to make a mental note to pour one out for the realest one, Persi), it was all rather deflating. Oscar had been so ready to go on a tear and now he felt as if he had dove face first into a bucket of ice. The bear was doing some vague bear shit. It was like Alice In Wonderland with some topsy-turvy pizza scented nonsense. Perhaps it might have sent them down the proverbial rabbit

“Get behind me!” Oscar could scarcely recognize the voice. The desperation in the tone, the urgency in the inflection. It forced him to swivel his head towards the source. He could scarcely believe what he saw. Oscar had never known Freyd to lose his composure like that. There had been only one time in a throwaway quest where he’d seen the man come close. As Oscar watched the man throw himself into the line of fire, something shook him to his very core. A gnawing dread gripped him. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Oscar trusted Freyd. Implicitly. But he also knew what was about to hap

Ph

At last, the blindness effect had lifted. Oscar paused for a moment, rising back to his feet and taking stock of the status of everyone. It seemed that despite their rocky start, the team had fallen into some semblance of equilibiirum. It was a struggle, but they had adapted to the boss mechanics. This was good. Now, perhaps Oscar could have some impact beyond wrenching Alkor loose from a bear. His hands were slick from the mire. That was fine, he decided. The first time had caught him by surprise. If the team could adapt, so could he. He swapped hands, freeing up his sword hand so that

After the chaos of the last round, Oscar was able to breathe a small sigh of relief that things were now relatively calm. That being said, this confounding blindness was certainly making things difficult. His vision was still mostly dark, rendering effective combat all but impossible. Still, he felt that, perhaps, he could lean on the System just a bit and try his luck. 20 percent was 20 percent after all. It would matter how blind he was if his swing resulted in a crit. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to pull it off. A swing and a miss. Still, the din of combat and the sound of bladed coll

That hurt. That shit really hurt. What made matters worse, Oscar's vision quickly became obfuscated by an effect not unlike a blot of ink on a screen. Peering through the holes in the umbra, he made his way toward the feasts from before the fight. Nothing was going to plan. He'd yet to deal any damage and the Boss' AOE had cut through the party like a 4000 degree knife through butter. The team was quick to respond, however. The damage was quickly healed up while Oscar fumbled towards his diamonds. If he couldn't do damage, he could at least try to take a hit. Before he scarfed down his pr

Things were starting to unravel a bit too quickly for Oscar's liking. Looking around at the other groups, he felt fortunate that his team only had to contend with Alkor being grappled by the bear. Oscar needed to make a change. Plans had dictated he would endeavor to deal damage, but given Alkor’s struggle, the plan had changed. What they needed was a little luck. Oscar slipped his ring from his finger and produced a pair of gloves from his inventory. Perhaps one of the oldest items in his ownership. Across the way, his eyes affixed on Bahr. A smile crept onto his face as he remembered th

ph

Oscar was glad that everyone he had called had actually shown up. He was rather certain that this boss wouldn't pose much of a problem, but he also didn't want to exert all of that effort to turn up nothing. As everyone arrived and set about consuming their feasts, Oscar stepped up in front of the group. It was a dangerous place to feast - outside the city. Roaming mobs could set upon them at any moment. Of course, that would certainly end up badly for them. Though there were some new faces, there were familiar ones too. Oscar felt confident that between himself, NIGHT, and Cordelia, they coul

Comcast had not yet failed him as it had so many times. Figures, the first time that he's not tanking that his provider wouldn't lag him out. There was something liberating about being a DPS. Less responsibility meant that he could, for better or worse, let his chaos shine through. Of course, he would need to hit the thing. It was his first time really fighting anything without Absolute Accuracy carrying him to victory and basically allowing him to operate on autopilot. So he hit that Charge button and took off like a bat out of Hell, ready to carve into the bear's fetid flesh. Only to im

“I can’t believe the game let me make this,” Oscar said. It had all begun with him hijacking an airship on Floor 24. From there, his own chaotic creativity took over. Everyone seemed so depressed. Ice cream helped with that. A strange amalgamation of ice cream and confections prowled the Floor. Hull replaced with a waffle cone. Engines that ran on Rocky Road. Bullets replaced with sprinkles, missiles with chocolate-dipped ice cream cones. It was a beautiful sight. Oscar took some small satisfaction in his mobile base. It was always a good pastime to menace the very real and super ser

The place smelled like death. Oscar stepped into the fetid arena with a look of sheer disdain upon his face. It was one thing to hold ten thousand people hostage with ticking time bombs on their heads. It was quite another to assault their senses with the smell of decay. “Insult to injury, Kayaba,” Oscar murmured as he joined the ever-growing throng of people. Despite the gut-churning stench of the arena, Oscar kept a deadpan expression. Unusually so, in fact. The type of blank expression one might keep when they’re specifically trying not to expel the contents of their stomach. A brave f

Accepted item, shard sent.. Dents.

"Well you got me there, Mina," Oscar said with a laugh. In truth, it only benefited Oscar and his craft to absorb as much knowledge as possible. Even if it might have been something so provincial as cooking classes. But his Magnum Opus still called to him. It might have been precisely because of that that he was able to set his pride aside for the sake of his current, ultimate goal. But still, he didn't want to spoil the surprise. That was half the fun, after all. Confirming to all of the Players that bosses were not threats, they were food. It would do wonders to bolster morale. Still, being

raid crafts 10/20/24

"Who the Hell you saying needs cooking classes?" Oscar was upset. Offended. Fundamentally insulted. His visage had twisted into some strange expression, not unlike one would make when they realized they had stepped into something foul. He thrust his hands into his pockets, stepping forward to take hold of one of a quartet of brilliantly-glowing crystals left in the enemy's wake. As it discorporated and added itself to Oscar's inventory, his expression morphed again. A wide grin stretched over his features as he turned to the face his companions. "'Cause I know you ain't talkin' to m

It was always such a delight to watch Cordelia work. Poetry in motion - movements flowing like water with the speed and brilliance of lightning upon a night sky’s canvas. Had Oscar blinked, he would have missed the maneuver. What a horrible tragedy that would have been. Her attack was punctuated by flashes of white, crackling holy energy following the arc of her blade as she carved through the multitudes. The way the light lingered, an arc of radiance wreathing her body. She was the picture of grace even as she laid waste to the enemy. Her quip earned a chuckle from the man. Calmed, or pe

Odds and ends and bits and bobs. Certainly there might be something interesting or amusing within this assortment of esoteric equipments. Oscar had never been one to fuss with Trinkets. But he was doing this new thing where he tried new things. Things were, at his level, becoming incredibly boring. Variety was the spice of life and Oscar was, in fact, a chef. A cook, if you will. Rambling aside, Oscar wanted something fun. Something interesting. Something, specifically that would make him immune to status effects because he was all about that breaking the game nonsense. And who else would he a

Oscar found it frustrating that their moment of pure bliss was interrupted by the NPCs. He didn’t consider the fact that he had been the one to make a choice to pursue it while in the middle of a Quest. No, the quest needed to bend to him and not the other way around. How could one be expected to experience the sheer majesty of two people’s souls collided together only to have to lower themselves to deal with something as provincial as this entire scenario. The temptation was to say to Hell with it all. To take Cord by the hand and be done with the irrelevancies. Because this was that. Irrelev

For the entire duration of this fight, Oscar had not saw fit to draw his blade. The battle was well in hand. The deep-set eyes of the Ancient had not wavered from the targets of its ire, even as Oscar's companions unleashed Hell upon it. Hand still in his pockets, posture still entirely relaxed, Oscar gazed back into the creature's glowing orbs. The two remained motionless for a while, the seconds ticking by in their silent stand-off. The wizened creature's tactics were as they always were, clearly. Slow, resolute. Like the ever-winding roots that split even stone asunder. Why would it deviate