Acanthus

Acanthus fought to remain neutral as Baldur observed her, busying herself with the tea instead. She gingerly picked up the teapot, pouring her mug a little too full. She cupped her hands around the mug and embraced its warmth as she pondered a response. First, Acanthus made a mental note to ask for details about the tournament. She hadn’t heard much about player versus player combat. It was a method of training she could explore in the future, perhaps. Acanthus decided to rip the bandage off the most embarrassing thing first. “Callisto was my first boss fight.” Acanthus watched the vapors

“Not as many,” she grunted back. She eyed the four nearest bandits. They would have to do. Acanthus ripped the sword art from the clutches of Cardinal, determined to bend it to her will. The need to stop and settle into position, or wait for the damn thing to “charge up”; it was all thoughtless obedience to her unsure beginnings. Before she knew how to handle a sword, Acanthus would pause thoughtfully, conditioned to hear the chime before allowing the system to finish the strokes. The game knew best, after all. Except it didn’t. Sword Arts settled into routines at the cost of efficie

“Thank you.” Acanthus took the seat she was offered, sliding comfortably onto the cushion. The peaceful sounds of the dojo surrounded her, and it took all her concentration to bring herself back to the moment and talk with Baldur, rather than listen to the sounds of wind and water. “There’s no need to apologize. We may live on the same floor, but it’s still quite a journey. I wanted an estate, which made it difficult to find somewhere inside town. And given my late entrance to the housing market here, many of the good locations were taken. I ended up settling on a nice plot of land outsid

The strange creature ballooned, and then deflated. Acanthus waited for the mob to crash and shatter into the typical blue triangles. Staring at the black puddle on the floor, Acanthus slowly realized it was not going to happen. Everything about this floor acted differently. First it was the lack of a safe zone, now the monsters. The frontlines needed to clear this floor as quickly as possible. There were too many uncertainties to linger. A scream and a crash erupted from the main square, and Acanthus was sprinted before she knew it. It had only been a matter of time before something big h

Acanthus followed her instructions dutifully, pausing for a moment to get her bearings. She had made it to the edge of the main island on Floor 24. Now, where was the boat? The lone swordswoman wandered along the coastline for a spell before she saw it—not the boat, but the floating Torii. She relaxed, confident that she was in the right place. Clutching her gift in one hand, she guided the boat gently toward the portal. A confirmation window asked if she wanted to visit Breidabilk. Her finger brushed “accept.” Without thinking, she offered a quick prayer as she passed through the gate. Let me

Maybe it was all the manifesting she was doing. But something about the fight *was* fun. The more she fought, the less she thought. The less she thought, the more relaxed she became. “I get it,” she said. “Oz is the king of the weirdos.” She didn’t actually believe that. Why was she saying that? “That’s what gives the competition some stakes. But if you’re not up for it, then I suppose we can make a loss more palatable for you.” Acanthus actually found Oz endearing the few times they had met. I mean, she wouldn’t trust him in a locked room with her shop’s inventory. And he was the kind of

Acanthus listened intently as Morrígan talked about her shop. She was a natural salesperson; despite Acanthus’ lack of interest in clothes, she found herself drawn in by the topic. “I’ll have to come by soon. I feel like I should have more than a handful of outfits to choose from. But frankly, most of the time I leave the house, I’m on a quest, and when I’m on a quest, my outfit is picked out for me.” She sheepishly adjusted some of her armor. “Even right now. I didn’t anticipate going on a quest in particular, and here I am, dressed in armor and carrying a sword when neither are necessary. I

“Alright, I’m back.” Acanthus had fully recovered from her unbecoming display during the time it took to hide a few of the fragments. She tossed a few extra into the tall grass, and promised Kumaki some treats if she were to find them. And if she didn’t… then Acanthus would start looking for bear-cub-sized saxophones in her shop. She thought about offering some kind of apology to the woman, but that could be making a bigger deal out of something Morrígan already forgot—or worse, it would invite further conversation. She decided to steer clear of the issue entirely. “I took the liberty of

Another crystal! And judging by the reflection, possibly transparent. Acanthus reached through the thick foliage to wrench the thing free. She was so close. If she wasn’t already winning, this would cement her lead for sure. Acanthus stretched her arm as far as it could, grasping at the miniscule glimmer. Her fingertips brushed the smooth surface, and the cool, hard exterior confirmed the crystalline status. “I’ve got you,” she grunted, extending her fingers into the brush as far as they could stretch. “Just hang on and I’ll..." An unseen force began to pull gently at her waist. “Not now,

THREAD SUMMARY (Thread eligible for early closure: no associated quest, and no combat or die rolls. Also, I omitted any repeated dialogue (like the stuff in the last post) from the word count. Any time I copy/pasted a phrase, I only used the first instance in my word count.) [Word Count: 3305/10 = 330.5] * [True Tier: 7] * [Group Factor: 1] = 2314 EXP Col: 347 (Laurel Wreath) = 347 col

“Why don’t we skip this cutscene with a cut?” In two swift motions, the Stranger retrieved Ajisai and drove it through Haru’s shoulder, smiling savagely. A boot, placed firmly on Haru’s breastplate, forced her to the ground, and Ajisai ripped its way entirely through Haru’s shoulder and into the dirt below. Pinned to the ground, the girl writhed on her back, trying to free herself. Seething hatred flooded the Stranger’s thoughts. A dozen times they had fought, and a dozen times the girl had died. But still she wouldn’t sleep. So if Cardinal would be unkind to her, she would simply be unki

Haru knelt in defeat again. With an intense effort, she raised her chin, staring at the Stranger proudly and defiantly. The Stranger decided to play her part and laughed at the beaten girl. “You aren’t a good copy. Just an entertaining one.” Haru knelt as she stood—far too rigidly. She didn’t put on a show or utter a word. The stranger continued. “So what now? Are you going to beg and plead; tell me how this isn’t like me at all, and I should come to my senses?” “No.” Haru said dully. She wiped blood weakly from her mouth before continuing. “This is you. Every cutting strok

The Stranger was nothing like Acanthus. She was a brutal and elegant driver of combat. Acanthus watched with a sense of amazement and terror—there was no blow the Stranger couldn’t land, no hit she could not weather. Her fights unfolded like an artist’s first decisive sketches of a nascent masterpiece, and the Stranger’s opponent served as the medium. The initial strokes did little to inform the viewer of the ultimate goal; with only a few lines, the art could be anything. Then, the linework grew complicated as the fight evolved—even her mistakes merged with the whole, making it difficult to d

“Acanthus, talk to me.” Haru rolled underneath a vicious swipe to the head. “Acanthus, talk to me.” Haru recovered from a solid blow to the head. “Acanthus, talk to me.” Haru stood up after the last hit nearly knocked her out. “Acanthus, talk to me.” Haru gave up trying to talk. The girl from the other side showed no signs of relenting; it was fight, or die. Locked in combat, Acanthus lost track of time. She had been so focused on her efforts, that she didn’t realize they were almost d

Just as before, Haru’s strength began to wane. Pity slowed Acanthus’ assault. She had come here hoping to quiet her nightmares, but seeing a mirror image of herself fighting for her life, Acanthus wondered if she was willing to pay the price with someone else’s blood. Just as before, Haru’s strength began to wane. Pity lingered in the back of Acanthus’ mind as she continued the assault. She knew killing the Gemini wouldn’t solve her problems, but she craved retribution. Just as before, Haru’s strength began to wane. Pity l

“You’re not welcome here any more. I thought once was enough, but… I feel you, still.” Haru returned to her feet, uncertain with her footing and trying to keep her distance. Acanthus continued to rant. “You… creep around in my brain. And my dreams. Try to tell me things that neither of us know. Like how it will all be ok.” Acanthus strode towards Haru. “I’m sick of it. None of that matters. None of it is real. But here I am, wasting time trying to kill you.” They wept together for reasons entirely similar and completely different. But Acathus was not here to understand why Har

“Fine. If I can’t reason with you, then I’ll just have to subdue you.” “You can certainly try. It hasn’t worked yet.” The Gemini collected herself, twirling Wormwood with a flourish. With a leap, she rushed Acanthus, Wormwood slicing down from the right. It was the same thing every time. With a leap, she rushed Acanthus, Wormwood slicing down from the right. It was the same thing every time. With a leap, she rushed Acanthus, Wormwood slicing down from the right. It was the same thing every time. Acanthus slipped under the blade, l

She enunciated each driving hook with bile in her throat. “Fuck”—crunch— “You” —crunch— “for pretending to care. Fuck this GAME for pretending to care.” Twisting the Gemini’s tunic in her right hand, Acanthus pulled her close. “You keep telling me to ‘take a moment,’ or to ‘catch my breath.’ You just want an even fight—that’s all this is, the game is just trying to make this an even fight.” Pulling her close, she cracked skulls with Haru before tossing the dazed girl away carelessly. The Gemini crawled to her weapon; Acanthus marched back to recover Ajisai, leaving a dotted red trail in h

Vague outlines marked different paths she envisioned. The clearer the image, the more brutal her conduct. Acanthus shook the thoughts from her head. That wasn’t her at all. Just a trick from a tired mind. She would tell herself whatever it took to move forward. No matter what. Haru took advantage of the lull and carved a swath down Acanthus’ side. She dropped Ajisai in surprise as the pain indicators forced her attention back to the here and now. Wormwood was now whistling towards her left side. Without thinking, Acanthus grabbed the blade with her gauntleted hand. Even made of wood, the

Haru fell to the ground stunned, bright red liquid pouring off her temple. She struggled to recover, but Acanthus was already on her. One fist, two—Acanthus held the Gemini by the collar, intent on driving her fist into the ground. Only Haru stood in her way. “Stop it! Stop waking me up.” Acanthus shouted on the verge of hysterics. “I’m sorry, but this is the only way.” Acanthus blinked away tears as she delivered blow after blow. “Please, if you stop… If you’d just stop, I’d stop coming back. Please.” She begged Haru as she drove her sword through the

Blink. The visions are getting worse. Just blink and they’ll go away. “See? Right there. You’re barely on your feet at this point. I don’t know why you’re back here. Just look at me and tell me you’re ok, and I’ll start the fight.” Acanthus couldn’t bring herself to look at the thing’s eyes. Her resolution was not allowed to waver—that weakness could kill her later. “Acanthus, can we take a moment to—” “—catch your breath?” Acanthus wondered for a moment how to proceed. “—talk this out?” Acanthus stepped in for the attack, then drew her sword.

Acanthus would have to ask others if they had any odd experiences with these creatures. This one was certainly giving her more grief than she anticipated. She hadn’t talked to many info brokers about the quest, but they all seemed to agree that the Gemini were just “evil twins” of the questing player: physical copies, but behavioral opposites. Silence settled over the two like heavy iron chains, tying them to where they stood. Acanthus’ chains were forged from habit; the Gemini’s, from willful disobedience. And for the computer to call itself a good copy? It was audacious. She was ha

Confidently, the Gemini closed the distance and started the fight with a fierce offensive. Acanthus widened her stance, expecting the first hit. Haru charged in, wielding Wormwood with a calculated efficiency. Acanthus widened her stance, hoping to get hit. Haru paused, then charged in, wielding Wormwood with a calculated efficiency. For a brief moment, the two waited in suspense. Haru attacked first. She always would. Oddly enough, Haru waited.

The arena looked a little different from the first time she fought here. There was no trace of the uncharacteristic snow from the first time around. Instead, the jungle air covered them like the atmosphere of a planet where gravity was just a little heavier than she was used to. Haru reached the other end of the clearing and began to loosen up. “I’m going to take just a moment to warm up. Feel free to take a second.” Acanthus glared. The Gemini was a program; she didn’t need to warm up or take a break—and they both knew it. This was an excuse for Cardinal to taunt Acanthus for her frailne

For Acanthus, the Gemini was at its worst when it treated her like a person. “Is everything ok? It’s a little unusual for players to revisit us.” “The weather today is nice for floor six, wouldn’t you say?” “Acanthus, you’re losing pace. Why don’t we take a quick rest?” The visions flashed again. Acanthus struck the side of her head with an open palm, and Haru looked back with concern. “You don’t need to beat yourself up about it. Literally.” “I don’t… That’s not what I was doing.” Acanthus rubbed her eyes. “I’m not here