B0nse

[B0nse 0]

Profile

Username: B0nse

Real Name: Connor Blake

Age: 39

Gender: Male

Height: 5;11

 

Physical: Surprisingly, Connor is that rare breed who actually cares for their physical health, and as such he is well built. He is neither the six-pack wonder, the pot-bellied long distance swimmer, nor the lithe runner, but is a man of tight bulk. His muscles are thick, and while not absurdly proportioned, are pronounced clearly to any eye save that of the idiot, who would call him fat. Beyond this, he is cursed with an ugly face which starkly contrasts with the rest of his person, his skin without blemish, scar, wrinkle, nor wart; weathered in the most purest of senses. This particular quality is a symbol of Connor's essence: earthy purity.  

 

History: What is there to be said about that man that isn’t known already? He is that type which sulks underneath the surface, privy to neither the shallowness of the internet, the complexity of our world, or the depths beneath them both. He lives, and that is all. He becomes one of the many faceless janitors that stalk school halls in his work, those whose lives you thought nothing of as you walked past their shuffling form without even a thought of saying “Hello” or “Thank you”. This role fits Connor well, for his life, if defined by one word, would be called inconsequential for that is what he is in every regard. He keeps to himself and a small set of friends with whom he can emphasize and is generally independent in this age of ‘technological advancement’ and as such lives the hobbies of the ‘unpluged’. Make note that he lives in our world, and not that of another role, making his standing in Sao all the more perplexing. He was trapped in the game not because he was interested, but rather because a complex string of events left him in possession of a Nerve-gear and SAO. Ever the curious, he plugged in, created himself in that world, and entered the ethereal prison.

 

Spoiler

Is to fear to live? Is that our god-given right? 

 

The sky was the first thing he noticed, an uncanny and blistering blue that extended into the horizon so clear it couldn't have graced even his dreams prior.  As he stared in fascination from the city entrance, a small group of children each with their own green marker cheerfully dashed onwards, giggling about some joke. A few moments later, what was presumably their chaperon stumbled after them, clearly out of breath but smiling nonetheless. More passed by, each drenched in this same mirthful vitality, and he stood stunned by it all. The color the grandeur the incandescent gleam, from where did it hail?! What inspiration-what muse was responsible? He'd seen glimpses of this ethereal other but never could he imagine it's intense immensity. Was this the day to day experience of those students with whom he had become familiar, of the professor, of the administrator? Was this an emblem for the 'life' he had missed? It is a very horrible thing to look upon something and know you should know and be familiar with, but only feel an uncanny gap in your memory, or perhaps a void.  

 

He clenched his fist around his hand-axe, having yet to learn how to sheath the thing in his inventory, or fetch a vanity holster from one of the nearby merchants, both for the very same reason: he understood nothing of this world. What he had summarized thus far had stemmed entirely from his own intuition and semblances of reality that he'd encountered. He prided himself on being a quick learner but thought too is based upon something and in Sao he had little to nothing.  So, warily, he made the first step into a world for which he was sorely prepared, the wizened words of his martial arts master coming to mind. "Immerse yourself in learning, do not fear the change, simply teach yourself to use the new tools as if they were your arm, your leg, and your soul". It was thanks to those words that he motivated himself to master that clunky system, and it was through these words that he grew to understand that Sao functioned much like home.

 

~~~

 

The sunset painted a murky pink across the sky and there stood a boar, not his first enemy, but the one on which his sword arts would be tested. He'd seen the stance an Beta-tester Hatchet user had taken up, and so he too bent a knee and rose the blade to a rest on his shoulder. The boar charged, and blade gleamed in the bright light of death. He leaped, flinging all his weight towards the beast through some predestined path. He could see its red eyes glare in wrath and, suddenly, it all vanished away, and he was now flinging himself towards the form of another player. The poor soul gasped in fright, stumbling back to no avail as Connor crashed into him. They hit the ground, knocking aside another player in the fall.  A few quick words of apology and Connor rose, chuckling nervously as the players regained themselves.

 

"No worries man, this auto-port has got us all on edge," the second chuckled.

 

"Yeah, about that, what happened?" B0nse, the first, looked to the other.

 

"No-one knows, but we can't log out" muttered the third, his thick brow already twisted to accompany a troubled frown.

 

"What?!" First

 

"That's what I thought..." Third

 

"You haven't noticed?" Second

 

"Not at all." First

 

Then, Kayaba, and the terrestrial panic set in. In the voices of many trembled a primal horror that began to boil towards an eventual burst whose coming was nigh. The mirror emerged in their hands and Connor looked into his own. What he saw was himself, then the wave of shards washed over him, and he became what he had tried to create in the first place: Connor. The results were pleasing, but he only realized their implication upon looking up to the faces about him. That turned to other and what once was became what it couldn't have been. The second trembled, his form practically unchanged as he had molded himself into himself, much as B0nse had tried to do, but failed. On the other hand, the third had transformed into a beautiful young lady of pale skin, his thick brow replaced for her faint brow, both tense in worry. She turned to them on some instinctual whim, "We need to leave now." They nodded in agreement.
 

She took the lead, plowing through the crowd. The second followed with B0nse at his heels. They weaved through the sea of faces, that primal horror beginning to froth and burst at the seams. The pale glow of the sky upon them had the general effect of red velvet, the fright so intense that the faces didn’t seem to be connected to bodies at all, but the innards of some horrific beast.
 

All it took was one cry and the entirety of the mass shook and trembled. The flame had been lit, the maddening procession had begun its march, the Death the Glory and The End had begun. Those headless forms shifted and mingled among the faint line those three paved, overlapping and consuming such that B0nse became split from those two forever more. They pulled him away with their kinetic fright and he too began to feel it peck at his mind, but resolute he remained, plowing through on his own.
 

He soon reached the respite of a dead-end alleyway whose entrance faced the fright. Within were unfamiliar forms, each sat in a mournful and silent contemplation. He joined their ranks, leaning against the wall and staring up to the oncoming twilight. The procession beat faded away elsewhere and in those who lingered in its wake lingered an unanswerable question, “What now?”

~~~

Years had passed, and he now stood in the spot once again. The alley was empty and the hope that someone would hack them away was too. In the void hope left was the realization that he too must join the ranks of those out there, he too must fight, and he too must try and survive. It was a frightening thought, but even more horrifying was the notion that his inaction had lead to the death of others. He wouldn’t have with that anymore, no, today marked the beginning of the Fight, the Honor, and the Hope within him. No longer would he sit and wait for rescue for today he became a man of action.

 

13

 

Virtues

 

Humility: He lived a life in which even his very people, the ‘Native Americans’ (or whatever the politically correct exaggeration wants to call them nowadays) have been treated like dirt. To make matters worst, he was never exceptionally bright or driven, and as such, he was guided into the social caste of the faceless. In that sense, he ended up surprisingly well, fetching a nice janitorial degree and works in well-paying college; not a deed most in his standing would be capable of. His relative success stems from his natural capacity to take what he’s got and make the best of it, to see the best of it, and to feel the best of it. The best of his rationality and intuition, which are amazingly keen, express themselves in full intensity whenever he lives, and he lives humbly.     

 

Caring: He harbors no hatred nor grudge, not against the alcoholic mother nor to the father whose weakness allowed her to stumble astray. He understands the value of human connection almost instinctually and works to live with it, not just exist with it. From those with whom he is connected, he draws satisfaction and joy, the very tool with which an otherwise dull life is granted spice. It is for this reason that he normally strays from ‘the plug’, as, while he couldn’t articulate the cause or even the existence of his aversion, it’s inhumanness would leave him betwixt in an uncanny cone before long.
 

Practical, Observant, Thoughtful: He is aware of where he stands and how he stands among it. He is not stupid and has managed to get by in life solely because of the deftness with which he managed his affairs, regardless of what they might be. The Credit Card companies call his breed of budgeters the "Deadbeats" for they are the ones who neither accumulate debt nor give those hungry hands even a penny-all while their credit score rises. Despite his low lot in our world, he managed to live a comfortable life throughout his time in the real. Whenever a problem might arise, he cares not for the shiny path, but rather, for only the essentials.

Flaws

Meekness: The world itself expected nothing of him and so he fell into an almost instinctual meekness which he is aware of but near powerless against. He accepts what he is given and will work with that, as he has always done within his dull life. He is used to the colorless sky and the relatively empty apartment room not because he is content with living the life of the low, but because your definition of low and his own are two different entities. Naturally, the world of Sao is an exhilarating illusion in comparison. It should be noted that the danger Sao provides has begun to shake him from this natural willingness, as meekness will fail in any cruel land, and he knows this.

 

Indecisiveness: He values the human aspect far too much, he fears how his actions will harm others, he worries for the blood red murderer. Where some would see a dull NPC he imposes humanity. This particular quality, combined with the necessity of blade and blood, can leave him ensnared in indecision far more than wanted.

 

Awkward: He cannot put his thoughts to words, he was never taught to be social in his youth, he does not know the defining qualities of a man and a woman. Of course, he understands what ‘articulation’ means, the rules of socialization and gender roles, and what is expected of him in the present date. He feels what he thinks, but not on an instinctual level. Every action he takes externally is, in some sense, contrived and artificial. The ailment stems from the dull life he has led, for he has had no teacher nor guiding spirit; his master was Nothing and his reward was the intimacy of a temporary isolation.
 

 

Skills
Sp: 0/5
Non-combat:
»

Combat:
»

Weapon Skills:
» [Rank 1: -5 SP] One-Handed Battle-Axe

Passive:
»
 

Inventory:

» Starter Tunic
- A simple tunic was once associated with the word 'newbie,' now it is the brand of sloth and misfortune.

» Starter Hatchet
- A simple weapon for simple hands. It's pathetic frame is best suited for keeping the opponent away and was in no way intended to cause harm, but merely stun the threat.

» Starter Kit
- A small knapsack filled with food and drink, perfect for the novice traveler. The Mirror that Adventures of that highly selective brand are all said to carry dangles off its side, attached by a leather strap wrung through a small hole embedded on the ornate handle. [+10 Bread, 15 Water, Mirror of Awakening]

Relationships:
None

Story Thus Far:
Will be filled, probably, whenever I’m assed to.

 

Edited May 16, 2016 by B0nse

[Mack 0]

DENIED

Inventory needs to be changed to reflect the starting inventory for players (10 Bread, 15 Water, Starter Clothes, Starting Weapon of Player's Choice).

The third virtue needs to be lengthened. Virtues and Flaws need to be three solid sentences.

Approved.

[B0nse 0]

Updated!

Edited May 14, 2016 by B0nse