Acanthus

Morningstar left before Acanthus calculated an appropriate response. Hadn’t she performed admirably at the boss fight? She had contributed her fair share to the damage in the raid. She had maintained control of herself. But Morningstar didn’t want to see that right now. Whatever trust Acanthus had built up, adventure after adventure—it had shattered with a single orange cursor. She resolved to make him see her worth on the frontlines. Acanthus hadn’t killed her own fears to be discarded as useless. Teion remained, her jaw clenched. The woman's presence drained the anger that formed in the

Acanthus listened calmly, keeping her thoughts carefully guarded. It was cold comfort to know that many others struggled to journey for the same reasons Acanthus had. At the same time, she worried just how many of the 10,000 were still locked inside their rooms on the first floor, adamantly hiding from the game. With a silent sigh of relief, Acanthus listened as Wildfire changed the subject. “I’m what people call ‘DPS.’ I think there’s a few kinds of those, but I’m something Bahr called an ‘off-bruiser’? Which seems like an odd turn of phrase. Basically, I can take hits and hit back.

THREAD SUMMARY Experience. [Word Count: 8572/10 = 857.2] * [True Tier: 8] * [Group Factor: 1] = 6858 EXP (Note: I did not count the weird spammy code ChatGPT I wrote in the post #10. I *did* include the words that the binary spelled because those are actual written words :eyes:) Col. 400 (bonus page) + 1028 (Laurel Wreath) = 1428 col Other. The ability to get toasty, baby. (<<Lightweight>> debuff applied. Can now get intoxicated.)

Acanthus came to sprawled in the floor of the filthiest bar in Aincrad. Her head pounded without mercy—not a new experience, regretfully. Her eyes shot open. “Edict—” As she expected, he was gone. Not a trace of their conversation remained. The bar had been emptied, as if she had never been there or made a shipment. Instead, the same vile bottles from the bar’s initial selection graced the shelves. The only evidence that last night had been real were her memories and a strange status effect that refused to go away. Her memories. She bolted upright. Didn’t she try to kiss Edict? Oh, *

A Drink on the House 243551 | CD 4 | Peach Cider ----- Entering the bar one more time, she rubbed her eyes in shock. Her legs grew weaker with each heartbeat. “E… Edict? Oh my god. Edict. I thought you were dead.” “That’s funny. I don’t really feel alive.” He stared at the back of the bar, avoiding her gaze. She continued with trepidation, as if every question bore the risk of disintegrating her friend. “...I saw your name on the Monument. You’re dead.” “Different guy.” “Different?...” Edict cocked his head, still talking to the far wall. “In a game with 10

It was time to head inside the bar again. Somehow the sight of her first gruesome mob fight on the floor had become a sight for sore eyes. The door limped open and closed on an invisible wind, and the cracked windows let in more rain than they blocked out. Part of her eagerness was the vain hope that led her here in the first place. Two hours ago (assuming that freakish distortion hadn’t prolonged her sense of time), a message appeared in her inbox in duplicate. Apparently, she had sent it to herself a week ago. Why it was only appearing now was anyone’s guess. But the invitation made her

In all honesty, Acanthus liked the taste of beer. It didn’t burn like hard liquor, and the bubbles were oddly soothing to her palate. She tried heavier beers and didn’t like them—they were overwhelming. Plus, they needed to be nursed carefully. Acanthus liked having drinks, not nursing them. So whenever she went out, light beer was her weapon of choice. Haru felt for the flask in her bag. The smooth, cold steel soothed her nerves. She preferred beer, or sake if liquor was a must, but practical concerns required vodka: odorless except for that necessary sting, and easy to mask. A test of t

“Isn’t this steak incredible? I had it imported. My chef only works with the best cuts, but the work he produces is undeniable.” The membrane that separated Haru’s thoughts from her words was weakening. I don’t even like steak that much. I would kill for a large bowl of ramen. “It’s sensational.” She cut into the entree with the enthusiasm of a distracted toddler and forced a bite into her mouth. The taste felt rubber and artificial. She panicked. No, I liked food back then. That’s not how this memory goes. She pleaded for Cardinal to stop. You can’t alter these. It’s all I have left

Akihiko and Haru drove up the mountain in comfortable silence. After twenty minutes, Haru asked in wonder, “Are we driving to the next island over? How far away does the director live, exactly?” Akihiko chortled. “He does appreciate his peace, quiet, and luxurious mountain view. The only thing he loves more is showing people how good the view is.” Another few switchbacks brought the house into view, and Acanthus struggled to take it all in. “That’s not a house. That’s a mansion. It looks like the size of the hospital.” “The Director really does live the good life.” “Does being o

Eiji appeared next to Haru’s desk again, his usual cheer noticeably absent. Haru spoke without looking up. “Another dinner, then.” Eiji groaned in confirmation. “That stuffy old man ruins the mood without even trying. I swear, he—” “—he is responsible for funding our branch of the hospital.” Mr. Nakatani cut in. “And he’s taken a special interest in the work we’ve been doing. Work that’s ended up spearheaded by our used-to-be intern, Haru.” Mr. Nakatani glanced sympathetically over to Haru. “I know it’s not how you’d prefer to spend your evenings, but networking is unfortunately very impo

Meter by meter, the carriage overtook the mysterious player’s steps. Despite the rattling wheels, the figure did not so much as glance behind. Had she been on any other floor, Acanthus might have written the oddness off as a person lost in thought. But Floor 29 lived to play nasty tricks on its victims. Close enough to make out the figure’s light copper hair, Acanthus prepared for anything. In the single, sharp sound of bone splintering, the mimic’s head snapped around like an owl, staring Acanthus in the eyes. It wasn’t just a mimic. It was one of the Gemini. How else did the thing know

Acanthus piled the last box onto the carriage. The work had moved slowly, but that was fine with her. Blood was still finding its way back to her fingers after her brief encounter with… the quest? Whatever had happened did not conform to any question she had been on. Even her experience with the glitched monsters on level three hadn’t quite compared. Those were still things that she could see and process. Her experience on the boat seemed like a burst of data she could not possibly process—like an ant trying to comprehend the lines of a book as it crawled over something it had previously regar

The atmosphere was anything but celebratory. Eiji had barely touched his food. Akihiko had a sober frown that she had only seen on the worst of work days. The entire team seemed devoid of their usual personalities, and it made Haru sad to see them so muted. “I understand your team has refined the workflow in a profound new manner. The reports seem to confirm that: more productivity than the rest of the hospital combined, and with half the manpower. Truly an impressive achievement.” “An achievement impossible without our newest member.” Mr. Nakatani signaled to Haru, who stood up clumsily

“Haru Masuda.” She seized, noticing the Director’s gaze. “Noboru Masuda’s daughter, yes?” Haru nodded meekly. Center of attention was worst of all. And today, she did not have her fermented weapons to protect her. The Director returned her nod. “An able doctor. Though less efficient since he took a sabbatical six or seven years back.” The rest of the table paled; Mr. Nakatani quickly jumped in. “Haru has been—” “I was talking to Masuda. Which you should also refer to her as, unless there is some closeness that I am unaware of?” The color from Mr. Nakatani’s face drained. He managed a

The world began to tremble. She could already tell that no handhold or foothold would keep her in place. It was like being at the peak of a mountain, and hearing the echoing boom of a landslide, knowing that there was no avoiding it. She worked her sword deeper into the thing’s weak spot, and the colossus thundered with rage and pain. It was her only chance. Its mammoth foot hit the ground, so far away that the sound reached her seconds after she saw the shockwaves of earth tear through the land below. When the sound connected, it connected with a wall of force so intense that it knocked

Your help terrifies me Recovery. +4 EN. +7 HP Main Action. Rest +10 EN 243489 | CD 8 | No Madness gained. (0 total) [5] Acanthus | HP: 168/200 | EN: 26/38 | DMG: 10 | MIT:56 | ACC:3 | AA | FL.AURA: 4 | THORNS:18 | BH:7 | HB: 9 | LD:3 | Hype 1/3 | Sanity 2 [0] Hirru | HP: 138/200 | EN: 27/38 | DMG: 1 | MIT: 42 | ACC: 1 | BH: 7 | HLY BLS: 9 | MENDING: 2 | REC: 2 | THRNS: 18 | PARA | ENV-0 8 | LD: 3 | Hype 2/3 CD 3/3

smack

Initiative. 243416 | LD 6 “Hello, Oscar.” Acanthus had been curious to try out a few different personas in the previous rounds. The dramatic dance duo with Kiyabu, her quiet, angry monologue with Hirru, and… Morningstar. She didn’t have the energy to be anyone but herself this week. And this seemed as good a week as any to remain quiet and focused. Oscar had more than enough personality for both of them. He probably wouldn’t mind the extra limelight. “I’m looking forward to our fight. I don’t anticipate winning, but don’t expect to get off easy either.” She paused before drawing

Today, she was defenseless. She said at a long table with her coworkers; to her relief, they appeared just as uncomfortable as her. The Director had picked a restaurant far more upscale than the dives they usually frequented. “Mr. Nakatani, please try some of the quail eggs. I’ve had them all over Japan; nowhere else compares to Chef’s.” Haru hadn’t pictured Mr. Nakatani as a very elegant person, but he handled the conversation with an envious ease. Mr. Nakatani nodded politely, turning to the waiter an ordering. “Quail eggs, six oolongs, and a few other seasonal dishes that the chef migh

Unloading the Cargo 243249 | LD 16 | You hear a voice that only you can hear. It speaks in tongues but you understand. Terrible things whispered into your ear, Once you depart from the vessel, the voice is no longer with you. (Literally I was hoping for any of the outcomes other than this one. LET ME WRITE SOMETHING THAT ISN'T VOICES) ----- The moment her boots touched the boat, she knew something was wrong. Acanthus didn’t expect the boat to clip through the dock again. The fear was something more subtle, less describable. It was like the feeling in the back of her stomach the mom

I don’t know much about boats, but at this rate, the ship is never going to— docked right in front of her, clipping through the wooden piers. The massive galleon vibrated angrily, stuck between the textures. It promptly vanished, reappeared, zipped up into the air, came back down, did a flip, vibrated a little more. And then it settled calmly next to the dock, awaiting a player’s touch. Acanthus eyed the object incredulously. Maybe vocalizing her anxieties would reduce them “How fucked up would it be it you did that again and catapulted me three miles out to sea to be eaten by some f

A horseless carriage awaited her outside the bar. Acanthus slung herself up into the driver’s seat with an anxious impatience. One last bottle from the shop dangled in her fingertips. It had been the most disgusting of the beverages by far, something that had put even Oz’s most experimental elixirs to shame. “C’mon, hurry up. Go. ‘Yip yip,’ you stupid—” The cart lurched forward with an unsteady gait. Acanthus gripped the reins with her free hand, swigging rotten battery acid with the other. If it tasted bad enough, she could pretend it was working. ----- Waiting at the docks 24

Three bottles later, her nerves were still shot. It hadn’t been very long ago the frontlines had taken to this floor, looking for the labyrinth as quickly as they could manage. It was going well until some stupid, low-level players decided to let their curiosity overpower their common sense. The new floor had turned into a graveyard for some of that unlucky one-hundred. Not unlucky, she reminded herself. Stupid. The young, defenseless boy flashed through her mind. She recalled his final whimper vividly. Or what should have been, except for Jomei. Acanthus took a tired swig from the bottle

Waiting at the docks 243228 | LD 10 | You see the ship far away, on the horizon. You blink and suddenly the ship is right upon you, and much bigger than you were expecting. “We’re heading out. Same place tonight?” Haru looked up at Eiji. He seemed excited at the prospect. Haru was unused to people being excited to socialize with her. “Sure thing, Eiji. Just want to wrap a few things up and I’ll see you all there soon.” Eiji beamed, shot her a thumbs up, and disappeared. Haru looked back at her desk. She had finished her work hours ago; now, she leafed through her notes on alga

Acanthus drank in the tense silence. Maybe if she waited a little longer, he’d show. But two and a half bottles later, she began to doubt it. With a perfectly sober hand, she reached for another bottle behind the counter and cursed the game. Old enough to die, but not old enough to get drunk doing it. Fuck Cardinal, and fuck Kayaba. Fishing around in the dark for another bottle, her hand instead closed around something crinkly and dry, like the carcass of a large beetle. Her hand snapped back to her side as her anxiety spiked. A drink—a real one—would be perfect right about now. Slowly, s