Acanthus

Acanthus decided that if Titania were being upfront, she could as well. “Yes,” Acanthus confirmed. “Consistently for the last two weeks. But even before that, I had night terrors from time to time.” “Two weeks? Did something happen?” “I… yes. I don’t want to get into details, but a friend of mine passed away.” “Oh, that’s it?” Acanthus blinked. She wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. Titania frowned. “Ah, I’m sorry. I remember you telling me that death in the game was real.” “And I’m remembering now that you’re deluded in thinking otherwise.” Her response was tinged w

“I see.” Titania offered no further response. The awkward quiet began to bloom, so Acanthus decided to simply nip it in the bud. “Titania, you know I’m a direct person. And so I don’t really know how to ask this gracefully. Why on earth are you here so early? Surely you’re not just checking on me.” “Isn’t that what friends do?” “I believe so, but messages also suffice. As well as meeting during daylight. Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” Acanthus quickly added. “Like I said, I wasn’t really sleeping well myself.” “Do you also have awful dreams?” The abrupt question stu

Acanthus set the china teacup in front of Titania. “No coffee, but give this a try. It’s a leaf that resembles lapsang souchang—very smoky and woody. It’s like drinking a campfire.” Titania took the teacup in her hand, and sipped without a second glance. Acanthus winced. “The tea is fresh from the kettle. How does that not hurt?” Titania shrugged. “I like really hot drinks. My colleagues thought I was crazy because I’d always take the coffee hot off the machine and then microwave it. Perfect temperature.” She glanced down at the tea. “This isn’t so bad though. What did you call it ag

The door opened with a creak, and a shadow that resembled Acanthus snuck through the door. Her back was hunched, and years of sadness, compacted into mere weeks, had worn the shine from her eyes to a dull matte. Acanthus slumped into the same stool she did every other time she came in and gave the room a brief, haunted look before laying her head in her arms on the bar. She suspected that @Ozwas not the kind of proprietor to clean surfaces regularly, but it didn't matter. The mysterious, tacky film on the bar wasn't any worse than the swamp she had just fought through. After a few mi

Life and death literally clashed in Callisto’s domain. The great tree Hirru summoned struggled to stave off the creeping decay. Tendrils of death crept through the mire, grasping frantically at the increasingly desperate players. Team 3 appeared to be clinging after Callisto’s roar shattered their formation; no sooner did Callisto attempt to retreat to the spirit realm did Pinball appear from thin air, clawing it back to the player’s domain with unerring strikes. With every attack, the frontlines gradually took control of the battlefield. Cornered, Callisto lashed out at Yuki and the othe

Wulfrin arrived quicker than she anticipated. She fought the urge to apologize. Asking him for help and then immediately apologizing… the only word that came to her mind was “unbecoming.” Acanthus opened her quest journal and rotated the window so that Wulfrin could see. “Info broker’s guide mentions a quest up here that has some pretty good rewards—or ok rewards, depending on your preference for danger. I thought that with you and one or two others, we could probably make short work of the hardest option and earn some good experience. Given the time frame, I suppose rousing another pe

“Alright,” Acanthus started, heaving a bulging sack onto the table. A heavy sense of dread overcame Eulogy. It was time to start working in earnest. “Let’s start with the easy things to get you trained.” “Why are you talking to me like a third-rate convenience store employee?” Eulogy eyed the massive sack with trepidation. There was no way the bag was actually that full. It had to be some programming trick. “You’re not third-rate. I’m certainly not paying you to be third rate.” Acanthus reached into the bag, pulling out item after item. The bag remained overstuffed. “I’ve only brough

This was it. Callisto was close to its end. Wiping the sludge off botan’s edge, Acanthus closed ranks with Team 1. Hirru shouted from the close distance, "I'm done. I've had enough of this worlds \bullshit. We've toyed with this thing for too long! Everyone! Attack!" The fog around Acanthus lifted, and she became acutely aware of the effort the entire team had been putting forward. Yuki and NIGHT had kept the bear distracted throughout the entire fight so that Mina and Ariel could land powerful staggering blows. Hirru had been the quiet backbone of the entire fight. She suspected that

Acanthus walked Titania to the sitting room near the front of the house. It was her favorite: as the smallest of the three parlors, it had a cozy, comforting vibe that the larger rooms lacked. It was also the closest to the kitchen, and featured a large east-facing window with a gorgeous view of the estate. It reminded her of the times she would drink tea with her mom while they watched the birds against the backdrop of her garden. Titania flopped into a plush chair while Acanthus busied herself in the tea cabinet. “Green or black?” “No coffee?” “I’ll fix you some black, then.”

The entryway had lit automatically with flickering oil lamps that put out far more light than they should have. Acanthus could make out one vague shape through the frosted glass of the main door. The size and shape of the figure was unremarkable, but the long, bright red hair could only mean— “Titania!” She opened the door, motioning her friend inside. “What a strange hour to visit.” “Not as strange as you answering the door. I guess that airhorn of a doorbell woke you up.” “No, I was already up. Please come in.” Titania stayed out on the portal, looking around at the massi

And part of that opulence was the five-minute walk from her bedroom to the front door. I guess this is why rich people have staff to take care of things. She was lucky that Cardinal handled most of the housework. Dishes and cooking were handled with the touch and press of a few buttons, and the fact that food did not spoil meant that Acanthus could simply buy ingredients for months at a time without worrying about it going bad. The Villa also seemed permanently free of dust and cobwebs. The sterile consistency appealed to Acanthus. That consistency had been shattered by the painfully loud

The walk to the front door was a journey in and of itself. Acanthus still wasn’t used to the size of the villa. She’d purchased this house because it was the biggest plot of land the game had to offer. And because the rooms offered in-game benefits, it just made sense to have the ability to add as many as the game would allow. What Acanthus hadn’t counted on was that size translating into “real life.” The Villa of Coruscating Flowers (Acanthus already regretted the unwieldy name) sat on about ten acres of land, and the house itself occupied a quarter of that. The villa had a dozen or so slots

Acanthus stopped pacing to pick up the stack of papers and calm down Kumaki, who had come running from the other room at the noise. “Sorry, girl.” She reached down to stroke the bear cub’s fur. “Just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I need to keep you up.” Kumaki leaned into the pets, nuzzling Acanthus calmly. “I wish I could take things in stride like you, little bear.” Acanthus plopped down and wrapped her arms around Kumaki. Using her as a pillow, Acanthus began to drift off to sleep. A thundering chime echoed through the villa. Acanthus jumped up, dumping Kumaki off her lap and onto

Link to quest It had been two weeks since her strange encounter with Edict and the outer limits of Cardinal’s reach. She had not made it through a single night of sleep so far. Shadows clawed her from her sleep, and the voice of the monsters they had fought on the third floor jolted her awake constantly. Tonight, she had been chased by the many-faced monster that had come for Edict. It bounded after her through an endless version of the meadow where Acanthus first encountered Hatred. Every time she turned to fight it, Edict stood between her and the monster. Idiot. She kicked over a

“Hold on, did you—I thought you—” She impaled the last White Snow Soldier with a little more strength than she meant to and ended up wrist deep in frozen entrails. “Hm,” was the most constructive response she could manage at this point. “That does change things a little.” With an awful squelch, she retrieved her blade from the soldier’s belly. Wiping her hands on the edges of her tunic, she merely succeeded at spreading foul-smelling liquid all over herself. Morningstar suggested pretending that she was having a good time, so she put on her best efforts. “This is fun,” she said in a flat

"You alright?" “Fine. I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Acanthus burned with embarrassment. First she sat down and dumped backstory on a stranger like she was setting up a terrible novel. Then, she had decided to shout as she sat down on a crystal she had been too blind to notice the first time around (two more, as a matter of fact). She wanted to disappear, but she could only excuse herself so many times before she became the “weird, anti-social newbie.” It’s a quest, she reminded herself. Quests have setbacks. And sometimes setbacks are acting like someone from another planet. She list

“Got you!” Acanthus bounded in, unleashing Wilting Higanbana one more time. As she finished the combo, a strange, anxious—and horribly familiar—feeling washed over her. Acanthus blinked, and she was nine again. “Dad… What’s wrong?” Acanthus blinked, back in the moment. She fell back, regrouping with the team she had been neglecting, and began to assess the situation. Something had spurred the frontliners forward. Macrodon was shouting directions and oaths like a general on the frontlines of Armageddon. Vague figures, distorted in the deathly fog, charged with a reckless disregard. Mi

Acanthus effortlessly met the first three hellhounds and dispatched them. Then she thought about the new player’s words. “Wait. ‘Catch’? What are we catching?” A sudden blast of hot air drew her attention to the hound leaping directly for her. Ajisai made it about halfway up before the dog crashed into her, pinning her to the ground. Acanthus shouted out of surprise more than anything. Where the hell did that hound come from?! Hot sparks flew from the creature’s mouth, bouncing off her face and armor. Acanthus was suddenly very glad Survival shielded her from the worst of the fi

Link to Quest Acanthus relaxed in the teleportation plaza of Tomoika. The twenty-first floor was not a popular floor, which thankfully meant less foot traffic. The foot traffic was even more scarce given that Acanthus had decided to arrive late in the evening. Aside from the odd stragglers and a few NPCs, Acanthus had the place to herself. She knew she shouldn’t be out this late, but sleep had eluded her the past few nights. Between Edict’s disappearance and the upcoming boss raid, most of her waking time was clouded with anxious thoughts. She had noticed a discernible decline in her

Vines sprouting from the murky depths, wrapping around the entire party. Then, she felt the barbs dig into her own flesh as the tendrils dug in wherever her armor showed a hint of weakness. Knives on every inch of her skin, dragging themselves slowly and deliberately. Fake blood dripped from artificial gashes in her skin, mingling with the foul water. But all she felt was a familiar buzz. If Cardinal wanted me to take this seriously, it should have programmed my wounds to hurt. Acanthus reached down for the vines constricting her left leg, and with a single, savage pull, ripped them

The final station lay ahead. To Acanthus, it felt ominous. The air around the last lamplighter lay heavy with anticipation of great revelations and thoughtful insights. But trying to grasp at them as they flowed around her, Acanthus felt like a bare-handed fisher. Other players came and went, leaving Acanthus stuck at the final station by herself. “To those that come after us, we will owe you this blessing.” Acanthus looked at her unlit candle. What could she do to pay a blessing forward? It ought to be more than empty words. But who would be coming after them? A virtual world without gen

"don't stray too far from each other!" NIGHT’s disembodied voice rang through the heavy fog. Acanthus had lost sight of the party trying to flank Callisto. Callisto, in turn, did not seem preoccupied with Acanthus’ position. He was content to wreak havoc on the rest of the party while she whittled away at his health. Acanthus knew she should be listening to NIGHT. The safest thing to do was to stay in formation, continue to attack and delay the boss. But Team One was doing well. Their team had avoided the worst of the damage; Callisto’s biggest hit faded to a distant memory with Hirru’s h

The next station was almost too much for Acanthus. Just like the “friend” station was populated with groups of friends, the partner station was overrun with pairs of sickly-sweet players making awful, trite confessions to each other. Acanthus set her features to neutral before slipping through the crowd. She reflected in front of the closest lamplighter. “I’ve never really had—or wanted—a partner. It vexed dad to no end, but I never found anyone I *liked* liked. It just wasn’t on my mind very much. Either I was working to take care of the family, or I was trying to get ahead at work. Ther

Acanthus watched as the lamplighter burned the blessing. She visualized the flame driving off the fears and worries inside her. In some small way, it worked. When she focused on the flames in front of her, she felt a sense of peace that had felt rare over the last few months. Taking a deep breath of the perfumed air, she rose and exhaled, mentally preparing herself for the next blessing. She gently smoothed out her saree to buy herself some time before she turned her mind to siblings. A warm wave of emotions turned hot and rancid as she approached the third station. Siblings. She was

Acanthus glided through the streets silently in her Saree. She did her best to avoid eye contact. It seemed that everywhere she went, she accidentally locked eyes with a stranger. Eye contact meant conversations with strangers—or even worse, a conversation with someone she knew. It would be just like the raid planning session, with her wardrobe drastically out of place. She’d already envisioned the scenario; she meet a friend; there would be a quick glance up, and a quick glance down, the universal signal for “oh, I see. You’re wearing that.” The conversation would continue on, while Acanthus