[PP-F1] The Death Game [COMPLETE]

[Lycan 0]

Lycan, much like many of the other players, didn't handle the news of this death game very well. He spent what he could recall as the first three days wandering around the city in shock. Originally, he wanted to skip the instructions, dash out into the field, and learn the game the hard way through sword, blood, and failure. Now, the idea of that last part paralyzed him. These first few days proved just how important that last one was. Players that fell in the field scattered into hundreds of sparkling shards. Others leapt off the map edge, lost to the clouds below. None of them ever came back.

Compared to the others, Lycan was one of the earlier group to accept fate as it was dictated and take a stance. This day's morning, he tightened his scabbard's strap across his chest, pulled his boots tight, and walked the streets of Starting City with purpose. He ventured to the market district, the heaviest populated area of the city, to begin looking for clues, tips, and idle gossip that may prove useful before hitting the field. While there, he noticed a surprising number of players already kitted out with new gear, rare weapons, and wore special guild sigils. Even some of the shops were already player ran and well stocked.

He expected people to pick themselves up, just not so quickly. Perhaps some of them were in the Beta or Alpha Group?

Lycan took a deep breath of the aromatic, virtual air and found himself an exposed piece of wall to prop himself against. He crossed his arms, hung his head, closed his eyes, and began to listen carefully to the chatter around him.

"First step to any problem is to gather information," he mentally reassured himself. "The more information, the better equipped I'll be taking on the unknown."

Luckily for him, most people passed him by without as much of a glance. Luckily for him, he was comfortable with this. Unfortunately, luck runs out.

The real world waits for no one.

Edited February 25, 2016 by Lycan
Second Pass Editing

[Lessa 1]

"Why do I bother?"

She breathed the words without care of who heard her, her blonde brows knitted in frustration, her gauntleted hands clenched at her sides. Her boots rose and fell with more force than necessary, as she half-walked-half-stomped her way through the gate and into the city limits. The streets teamed with other players, and they milled about her like a cloud of tiny fish in muti-colored starter gear. She blew past as if they were not there, and those unfortunate souls who did find themselves in her path quickly scooted out of the way of the heavily armored Brigadier. If the enormous blade strapped to her back did not signify that she should not be messed with, the scowl on her face was enough to do the trick.

Another afternoon wasted. Wasted time, wasted effort, and wasted faith in this new generation of frontliners. They came to her seeking help. "You look powerful," they had told her. "Could you help us be powerful too? We want to help." She should have asked them why. Asked them what their motivation was, or what being powerful meant to them. What they thought they could do to help. But instead, she had exercised that same poor judgment that plagued her at least once a week, and agreed to help the players train. Show them the ropes. Help them survive.

But they complained, argued, and pushed her every step of the way. They questioned her, belittled her, and eventually left her standing alone in the field. The Lessa from a year ago might have shrugged it off and moved on, chalking it up to a good effort but failed attempt. But she had hardened, and now every day that passed like this chipped away at whatever calm she still possessed. She was furious, and all she wanted was a one-way trip to a tavern on a higher floor.

Until she realized that one player had not moved out of the way for her. The stranger stood as still and silent as a statue, his eyes closed, his shaggy white hair framing his face. She slowed to a stop beside him, the rage that pulsed through her veins encouraging her to plow right through him. But the smallest sliver of sanity that still remained within her won out, and so she spoke instead.

"Are you alright?"

[Lycan 0]

Her words sailed in one ear and out the other. At first, he paid her no heed. Then, as if the words that passed through were tied to a ball and chain, her presence and slammed into him with all the ferocity of a hammer against the anvil. Lycan's eyes shot open and he staggered forward, awkwardly spun around on the balls of his feet, and came to a halt in a half-standing, half-ready to pounce stance.

"Yes! Me! I'm fine! Dang it! Was I in your way?!" he stammered, struck dumb by her armored frame and massive weapon in tow.

"They can't PK in town right? I'm pretty sure I read that somewhere in the previews. Oh god, please don't PK me..."

Then, much like the delayed reaction to her, his nerves caught up with him and settled the panicked look in his eyes.

"Play it cool. No one would PK with this many witnesses anyway. Just apologize, and stop being an idiot."

"I'm sorry," he began with a deep, calm breath. "I lost track of myself there. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by... well... everything. Anyway, sorry, again."

"God I'm such a noob," he mumbled under his breath hopefully out of earshot and masked by idle chatter.

Edited February 17, 2016 by Lycan

[Lessa 1]

Another goofy, immature player. Her jaw worked madly as she stared him down, waiting for him to stop his blabbering so that she could move on past. She had places to be, and alcohol to consume, and his silly questions were not helping her achieve her objectives any faster. Why had he been standing there with his eyes closed? Was it a glitch? Was he on some sort of drugs? Or was he just crazy? His response to her words, and the strange way that he crouched before her, she decided it was probably door number three.

Just as she moved to walk past, she caught the second part of his hurried, crazed speech. This was enough to cool the fire that burned in the pit of her stomach, and like steam, a soft sigh passed her lips. Overwhelmed. I know the feeling. When she had been a new member, she had been overwhelmed too. There was so much to do, and so much to see. And those feelings had only intensified with the announcement of their new prisoner status.

But strangely enough, she found herself more overwhelmed now. With dents in her armor, bags under her eyes, and more scars than one person should ever be asked to bear. You're overwhelmed now? Just wait. The thought sobered her quickly, and where anger had been, she now found traces of sympathy.

"Don't apologize," she countered. Then, "seems like you could use some help."

Edited February 18, 2016 by Lessa

[Lycan 0]

"Help?" he repeated. "I don't want to be a burden; you look like you have some place to be."

"What are you doing? You know nothing about this game. Look at her gear! It's definitely not new player gear."

"I mean, if you have a moment, I would love it. I jumped into this game without reading the manual like most people do with a new game and figured 'what's the worst that can happen?'"

Lycan recalled the man in the sky, the mirrors, and all those faces... Panic, despair, fear, sorrow... The only thing worse would have been to kill everyone on the spot. Actually, that would have been far more merciful than this mess. From the rumors, even the fastest players to level were only to the 13th floor...

Out of a hundred...

Lycan's features dawned with the a tinge of depression. A small look of defeat found its way into his persistent and bright nature. It was fleeting, for he felt showing weakness only lead to being seen as weak.

"So yes, I would like help, but only after you've taken care of what you came here to do. I don't know how to add people to my contact list or I'd send you an invite... or something." 

Edited February 18, 2016 by Lycan

[Lessa 1]

He did not know how to send a friend quest? This boy really was green, which made the woman even less willing to simply throw him to the wolves. Or, the boars. Sure, only a short time ago, she had visualized herself giving up on every new player, but when push came to shove, there was still something inside of her that insisted upon kindness and guidance. It was a very small part of her, who had to scream to be heard over the bitterness that consumer her, but it won out nonetheless.

Clouded sadness drifted across the young man's expression, a stark contrast to the bubbliness he had demonstrated earlier. Such rapid changes were a sure indication that he truly was as overwhelmed as he claimed. He was peculiar, but that did not stop her from moving up beside him. Carefully, so not to bump him with her heavy armor or enormous blade, she eased closer. It was true that she could not hurt him in this safe zone, but that did not stop her from paying attention to things like that. Old habits died hard, she supposed.

"Here," she began, lifting one hand to demonstrate. "Like this. Go ahead and open your menu."

[Lycan 0]

Lycan smiled at her as she began to speak. Though he didn't want to start spewing gratitude, his eyes certainly didn't hold back. He nodded to her hand moved his hand just like hers. Low and behold, a semi opaque menu popped up form this air just in front of him. His name, stats, equipment, and skills all popped up from the menu. His HP, EN, and a stat of SP which showed a counter of five.

"What's SP?" he interjected while still trying to mimic her every move.

[Lessa 1]

The ex-Guardian winced. What is SP? "SP stands for skill points," she began slowly, trying desperately to keep from growing unintentionally condescending. Most of the players that she encountered struggled with combat, or organizing builds, or choosing consumables. Never before had she encountered an individual who could not call up his menu. Poor kid, she found herself thinking before she spoke again. "You collect skill points through combat, and you can use them to improve your skills." We have a long way to go.

"Hey," she continued suddenly, "why don't you just look through the different options for right now. Play around with it. I'll go ahead and add you to the party myself, alright?" As she spoke, her nimble fingers drafted and sent the invitation. Only seconds after selecting the green button, a transparent notification drifted just in front of the other player.

Edited February 19, 2016 by Lessa

[Lycan 0]

"Skill points? Hmm... That's kinda like the JRPGs I used to play. Makes sense..."

"Okay," Lycan began, trying to remain as attentive as possible, "I think I got it."

He fidgeted with a few of the on-screen buttons and with a little guesswork, plopped all five of the SP into his weapon of choice, the one handed straight sword. A small notification alerted him that he was now rank one in that weapon class. When he dismissed the pop up, another window appears showing a list of acquire sword arts. Lycan had read about these in a Game Informer before the release. These were the equivalent of special attacks and the core element of the game. Instead of magic, spells, or super powers, players had Sword Arts.

As he scrolled through the list and raised a brow at some of the numbers, another pop up appeared. This time, it showed a player name, Lessa, and asked if he would accept her contact request.

"Lessa..." he mumbled. "Is that your name?"

He pressed the green accept button and looked up to her with a warm smile.

"Pretty name, I like it! I'm Lycan, but you can call me Lye."

[Lessa 1]

"Mhmm," the girl murmured, her gaze never leaving his menu as her new acquaintance fidgeted with it. "My name is Lessa. It is nice to meet you, Lye." And it truly was. Though the negative emotions still lingered, as she wondered if she would ever be entirely rid of them, she found herself growing more relaxed beside boy with the snow-colored hair. There was a boyish charm that emanated from him, and it differed from what she normally saw in new players. There was no trace of manipulation in what he did. She could find no sign that he was simply using her to better himself, which was generally the case. He seemed genuinely curious, and eager to learn. Blame the teacher in her, but it was just a feeling that she had. Something about this kid was just good.

Choosing not to respond to his compliment on her name, save for the soft blush that painted her cheeks, Lessa forged on. "Do you know how to equip your weapon? And do you have any gear?"

[Lycan 0]

Lycan looked at his menu, tracing his finger along the different icons. He realized if he held his finger just above the icon, a small description would pop up.

"Hmm... Stats... Inventory... Skills... Party... Contacts... Settings... Exit... but no equipment? Wait! Exit?!"

Lycan mashed the exit icon as hard as he could press, his heart racing. A side menu popped up, and his excitement slammed into a brick wall.

"Blank..."

He took a deep breath, and let loose a long sigh.

"Suppose it wouldn't be that easy... huh?" he mumbled, utterly decimated.

He gathered his resolve, shook off the horrible flood of memories both good and bad, and returned to the core menu. Where he clicked on Inventory. In it, he saw ten Baker's Buns, ten Water Flasks, a Beginner's Straight Blade, and Begginer's Garbs. He selected the sword and the menu panned to several options, equip, trade, discard, and info. Lycan tapped equip and much to his surprise, his weight shifted. Something unexpected weighed on his back. Startled, he struggled to look a the source before his eyes fell on the handle of a sword. Impulsively, he had to draw it. From the leather sheath strapped across his back, he drew the longsword in a single fluid motion and held it in front of him.

"Woah," he commented. He turned to Lessa with a grin so pure and jovial, it looked silly "Guess I figured it out! I have a sword!"

He tilted his head toward his acquaintance's back. 

"Not as big as yours though," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Edited February 19, 2016 by Lycan

[Lessa 1]

In another world, Lessa might have made a not-so-tasteful remark about size not mattering. She probably would have laughed for a few minutes before even delivering the words, and then gone on laughing afterwards, regardless of whether Lycan did or not. Once upon a time, she had considered herself a very funny individual. 

"Yeah, this is Demonic Gram," she informed him with a slight nod. "It is a unique weapon, so no one else has one like it. It is pretty crazy, actually, and I'm really lucky to have it. It was gifted to me recently." A soft light lit her features as she navigated deeper into her menu. "I do like Gram, but Hell Rose is even more special to me." Ribbons of color twisted and turned across her back. When they finally died away, flickering slowly out of existence, a claymore of more manageable size hung in Gram's place. After first ensuring that there were no players in close proximity, she drew the sword with a familiar, comforting, metallic hiss. 

"A good friend crafted this for me right after I started the game. He's not around anymore, so Hell Rose means a lot to me." Her smile was laced with sad nostalgia as she turned the weapon over in her hands. "This guy's gotten me through a lot over the years."

[Lycan 0]

Lycan looked over Lessa's weapons as though a child would over a new toy. That same childhood wonder sparkled in his eyes.

"You have more than one?!" he remarked. "Lucky... They both look really neat. They must be strong."

Feeling somewhat intimidated and reminded of how new he was, Lycan slid his plain old steel sword in its leather scabbard. He had some serious catching up to do, and he was only just now learning the basics. Just then, he remembered the circumstances of their meeting.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I forgot you were on your way somewhere. I'm sorry to have kept you with my noob-ness. Heh..." 

[Lessa 1]

"They're definitely not the strongest," she countered with a slight shrug, "especially Hell Rose. For a while, actually, this sword was one of the weaker in the game. I'm a blacksmith, so it would have taken no time at all to craft a better one. But, I'd become attached to this one." Her salmon lips paled as she drew them into a tight line. "I'm not sure if that's a side effect of being in the game or not, but I find that I keep making connections with silly things." Safer than making connections with people, probably, came a humorless thought.

The pearl-haired man's expression changed rapidly, and in a tumble of rushed words, he apologized for keeping her. To claim that no part of her wished to simply bid the boy farewell and move past would be a lie. In fact, that tankard of ale that she so often used to drown the creeping frustration still called to her from the closest tavern. But as her blue eyes held his, she found herself rooted in place. Lessa, you're such a sucker.

She did not speak to his apology, simply responding with a soft "eh" and a wave of her hand. "Do you know how to use that sword yet? If not, maybe I can give you some pointers."

[Lycan 0]

That spark of light often seen in children when they receive a large wrapped gift glimmered in Lycan's hazel eyes. Before spurting out the nonsense of the excited teen he was, the boy leveled himself before speaking.

"Could you? I've had a little training in the real world, but I have no idea if its anything similar to here."

Lycan opened his menu again like she had shown him, aware that there existed a party function, but unaware of where to find it.

"Let's see..." he muttered, fiddling with his windows again. "Should've read the manual..."

[Lessa 1]

Only seconds later, a party invite appeared, interrupting Lycan's tinkering. "I can show you how to do that later," was her explanation as Lessa closed her own menu. Right now, I'd like to get off these crowded streets. As the virtual sun perched atop its highest point in the blue sky, even more players were emerging from the inns, taverns, and shops that loomed around them. Even the social butterfly that lay dormant inside of her would have been overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people who now brushed against her as they talked too loudly amongst themselves.

"If you follow me this way," she continued with a nod of her head, "I'll show you to the gate. Have you been outside of the save zone before?"

 

[Lycan 0]

The party screen popped up in the midst of Lycan's fiddling. Lessa's name and a limited number of options appeared. The teen selected join and noticed a new health bar under his own. As he was busy focusing on the edges of his peripherals for more changes to his HUD, the streets grew infinitely more busy. The high noon rush began.

Lessa's voice broke him of his trance, and drew his focus back to her. She subtly gestured toward one of the gates leading out of town.

"I haven't," Lycan replied to her question as he matched her pace through the streets. "I heard that the monsters out there are like the old JMMORPGs like Ragnarok Online. They're weak, but almost on par with the level one player. Prior to... well... anyway... I was hoping to figure it out trial and error style."

Lycan nervously scratched the base of his skull with a sigh, but reminded himself to stay positive with a weak smile.

"This is much better," he spoke with the faint waver of a chuckle. He gave a slight pause, but his mind raced to keep conversation flowing.

"So, uh, silly question? Are you one of the front-liners?"

Edited February 24, 2016 by Lycan

[Lessa 1]

"Ragnarok Online?" the girl echoed, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall the name. "I don't think that I've heard of that." That fact surprised her very little. Before plunging into Aincrad, Alyssa had actually played very few games similar to this. Her preferred poison was first person shooters, and after her experience in Sword Art Online, she doubted that she would ever stray from that path again. "But the general idea is correct, yeah. The monsters definitely get tougher as you move up the floors, but that doesn't mean that you're safe just because you're on floor one. These boars are pretty unforgiving." She had seen more players die to their tusks than she would have ever dreamed. Of course, she would not tell Lycan that. She needed him to be aware of the risks he took every day, as that alone was an excellent motivator, but terrifying him this early in the game would be silly.

Then he asked if she was a frontliner. Her blue eyes slipped behind her eyelids for the briefest moment, but she did not miss a step. And when she finally spoke, her words were even, and bereft of emotion. The same could not be said about her eyes, when she finally opened them again. "No, I'm not a frontliner."

[Lycan 0]

The pair encroached the city limits. Unlike the marketplace, players were sparse here. Either they were venturing inward to earn a well deserved rest from the morning hunts or beginning their days late like so many did in the real world. As they approached the limits, Lycan stopped just shy of the semi-translucent marker separating the safe zone from the wilds. He halted for a moment before looking back to Lessa.

"I've seen the Monument of Life. Many of the names on there are marked 'F1'. So, I completely believe you about those boars," the boy commented, eyeing the few players that fought the swines vigorously. Were this still a normal game, Lycan might have found their behavior silly. However, as they shouted with each blow and block, he admired their fighting spirit.

"If you're not a front liner," he began, still watching the other players fighting, "then what are you?"

The question was innocent enough, but his delivery and tone almost crossed as if asking some deep, probing question. Almost as if he had asked her 'why are you here?' or 'what do you live for?' Meanwhile, he focused toward the fields, itching to start his first stint in combat.

[Lessa 1]

She felt the fire roaring in the pit of her stomach before she could quite comprehend what was happening. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. Wait, cried her conscience, voice muffled by the anger that worked to drown it out. Relax. He didn't know. It isn't his fault. She blinked rapidly, attempting to extinguish the flames before they reached her eyes, the one place she wore each emotion like a sign around her neck. Through clenched teeth, she inhaled deeply, tracing the cool air as it raced to her lungs, and imagining it settling there. He didn't know.

---

"So you're a frontliner, huh?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, look at your gear. You must be."

"No, you're mistaken. I'm not a frontliner."

"But, why not?"

"Because."

"That's really selfish of you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're a high level, clearly. You have a sword that I've never seen before. You have everything you need to clear the floors, and save people like us, but you don't. If I had everything you have, I'd be doing everything I could to win this game. Are you afraid to die?"

"No."

"So you're just selfish then."

---

She exhaled. "Nothing," she told him. "I'm nothing."

Without another word, she brushed past him.

Edited February 25, 2016 by Lessa