[PP-F1] Allision <<Nature's Treasure>>

[Pinball 1]

"Okay, okay, maybe I lied a little bit," he hummed playfully. "I've only mastered two weapons." 

He was cut off by the intrusive friendly familiar's attention grabbing theatrics stealing Mishiro from the conversation about how cool he was. And honestly, that was for the best. While there had never been a friendly tone in his voice, even when loudly proclaiming the greatness of Ares, he was beginning to find that the energy holding this facade together was quickly leaving him. 

So much so that when the little ball of flame drifted over to Pinball and reacted violently, he didn't react. There wasn't a hint of interest in his cold eyes, no lingering spark of care or flash of compassion. In a weird way, it turned his stomach sour. He felt disgusted. Disgusted by the dude who couldn't manage to kill one of the simplest mobs in the game, and disgusted by the way Mishiro interacted so naturally with him. 

The sight of it planted the seeds of anger and jealousy in his heart and they were aging rapidly. 

Resisting the urge to swat Felli out of the air, Pinball instead whirled around. "Well, would you look at the time," he sighed. "I've really got to go." To Mishiro, he gestured towards Huginn, tilting his head. "It looks like you've got all the protection you need." 

He spun around, waving. The jewel around his wrist flashed in the sunlight. "Nice meeting you both," was his curt farewell. Pinball shouldered his backpack and adjusted his cloak. He would start to walk, then; walk away from these people and the troubles they brought with them. He'd been stupid for sticking around as long as he had. 

The knapsack hanging from his shoulders didn't have a perfect cover. There was a leather cord you tied around the loose ends of it - but there was a small hole because of that. 

And maybe it was because of Felli's interaction with Pinball, or maybe Zomekko was just in-tune with her partner's emotions - but inside of the backpack she had flared up, sending up a steady stream of black fog into the air like a chimney. 

Evanescent globules of shadow, deep and dark and fleeting. 

[Mishiro 0]

Leaving. 

He was... leaving?

 

Mishiro dropped a handful of coffee beans into the wicker basket beside her. All of a sudden, she couldn't focus on her task. The coffee plants she had set out to gather were pushed to the back of her mind. He was at the corner of her vision but she watched him more than she did the little blue flame that had innocently floated back to her. She stood silent and unmoving as he spoke again, hoping that something would happen, that he would change his mind and decide not to go, that he would drop his mask and shatter all of her false assumptions, that she wouldn't be left alone spiraling deeper into thoughts of what she should have done, that there would be some sort of confirmation -

 

And that he would stay and talk, if her suspicions turned out to be true. She told him before that she would listen to anything.

 

But nothing happened.

 

When he turned his back, she was struck with the urge to move. Mishiro buried it deep in her consciousness and reactivated her <<Detection>>. She mechanically assessed her surroundings. Felli, floating next to her. Huginn, still engaged with the flytrap and much farther than she expected. The familiar coffee bean plantation at the other end of the <<Garden>> that she had yet to visit. Ares, turned away.

 

"It was nice meeting you too."

 

She turned back, but not without sparing him one last glance.

 

He carelessly raised his hand to wave them goodbye.

 

The crystallized sword on his wrist glinted in the sunlight - the same way it had when she looked closely at it months ago. She remembered that moment. She remembered flipping the shop sign to 'Closed' a few hours too early. She remembered the silence and the bittersweet scent of the coffee she made for herself as she seated herself at another table. 

 

Mishiro prompted Felli to return to her master. Pulling Roman's coat tighter around herself, she took a small step forward.

 

"Will we... see each other again?"

 

And then there was a shadow roused from its slumber. It passed through a hole in the cover of his knapsack and rose to the air like a plume of smoke, parting into clouds of black fog. 

 

Zomekko...?

 

Her breath caught in her throat.

 

She remembered everything. She remembered him.

 

Mishiro breathed in deeply and left her basket behind. 

 

This was what Pinball wanted. He made that clear the last time they met. He wanted to hide behind his mask. He wanted to leave.  He wanted to be alone. He didn't want her around, not anymore. 

 

But this was the same person who told her he wanted to die.

 

Her pace sped to a brisk walk. 

 

Perhaps he only spoke to her this time around so he could tell her all that he had ever wanted to say before he finally cut her off. He told her just that when they met earlier: don't run from her problems, don't make the same mistakes he did, and have more trust in others. He told her to smile more. 

 

But what about you?

 

He was nearing the edge of the <<Garden>> now. 

 

She threw caution to the wind and ran.

 

"Pin!" 

 

He felt the unusually cold grip on his shoulder first. Mishiro came to a stop in front of him and held him at arm's length as she caught her breath. 

 

"It's fine now. I know." 

 

The girl lifted his mask with her other hand and she thought she felt her heart skip a beat. How long has it been since she last saw his face - and not one that she drew herself for the police department's wanted posters? She breathed out a sigh and shook her head, suppressing the urge to step closer. Mishiro wasn't smiling just yet - rather, she looked more conflicted as she took a small step back and held the kitsune mask in her hands. At a loss for words, she could only manage the first question that appeared in her mind.

 

"Why?"

[Huginn 0]

Shiro’s spear twirls around again, his hand tightly grips the shaft as he throws his weight forward and the spear pushes clean through the monster and suddenly it explodes into blue shards and red pixels. The fight was finally over but Shiro still felt something weighing him down. Must be my low energy. He transfers his spear back into his inventory and whistles for Felli. Hoping the other two didn’t hear him as he turned around and slid his hands into his pockets, he had no idea what to do. They appeared to have something between them, whether it be a past or tension, it still pained the boy to watch... so he didn’t.

He closed his eyes, shook his head and started walking the other way. Why did I even agree to come here? I could’ve just as easily stayed home and accomplished the same goal. He frowns, watching the grass underneath him as he steps over it. Why did I stay and fight? Why didn’t I just make Ares do it and leave long before the monster died? Why did I watch them? He was hoping to disappear into the plains, maybe he would never see that stupid mask and cloak again. He didn’t care either way.

He just wanted to go to the inn and sleep for the rest of his life. Staying up and practicing seemed like it wasn’t working, but even still, he would keep doing it. Keep pushing himself to catch up with the frontliners, keep learning all the fancy tricks and nifty skills to try and find Muninn. He just wanted to know if his sister was okay.

Even in this world, the boy had learned to live life the same way as before. Reserved and secretive were always much safer than open and outgoing, because that reveals weaknesses. Shows kinks in your armor. That’s why he felt weak, weighed down and sluggish around them. His right leg pushes out further than the last few times he had taken a step, and the next step was even longer. The strides kept growing until he was running as fast as he could as far as he could. He had to get away, had to be alone. He needed to hide, escape, disappear. This was how he did it.

————————————————————

Spoiler

 

ID: 120152

BD: 8

Heft on Flytrap

5 * 2 = 10 DMG

10 - 10 = 0 HP

ID: 120153

LD: 5

CD: 7

loot: 120 col, (4) T1 Materials

 

Huginn: 80/80 HP | 2/8 EN | 5 DMG | 1 Para

 Flytrap: 0/40 HP | 12 DMG [DEAD]

[OOC: If no one stops Huginn, he’s leaving the thread. I won’t post next round unless he’s stopped.]

 

Edited July 27, 2019 by Huginn

[Pinball 1]

Shock. Shock and disbelief. He had no time to react, to gather his thoughts, to try and vanish. Nothing to protect himself with, and nowhere to run. He was at her mercy, and she removed the mask he'd forced himself to hide behind. 

In just a moment, Mishiro had plucked way the very thing that had caused him so much stress, and for that one brief instant, he was thankful. This is why he'd always thought... 

Pinball visibly recoiled. 

"Why?" 

How could he even answer that? Pinball took a step back. Staring at this girl who held his insecurity in her hands. Her hair, her eyes, her face. He'd missed her. Desperately. And he wanted nothing more than to fall at her feet. To break down and beg for her forgiveness. He'd hurt her so much more than she ever deserved to, and he wanted her to know that it wasn't something she had done to cause it. It was him. 

He was the problem. He was the one who was scared. Who had gotten angry and taken it out on her. Who had turned her down so many times that it pressed on his heart like a weight. Who was sad. Who was tired. Who was the murderer. 

But he couldn't. No words came to his mind, and his lips remained firmly shut. Pinball's eyes were pools of emotion. There were so many thoughts running through his head and it all just... 

Hurt. 

So very deeply. But there was nothing he could do to atone for the things he's done. The things he planned to do. The things he wants to do. 

Pinball didn't answer her. He lowered his gaze, whistling. Quick and sharp and short. Zomekko flung itself from the backpack he'd kept in her, spinning around his avatar and consuming him in black shadow. He was using Vanish to run away. Again. Like so many other times. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. 

And then he was gone. Zomekko's black flame reduced to naught but a smolder before blinking out of existence. 

Leaving nothing behind. 

[Mishiro 0]

Why, indeed.

 

It was difficult... increasingly difficult to maintain her outward composure when his eyes met hers. He wouldn't answer her question, but he looked so... sad. Tired. Deeper emotions she couldn't read swirled underneath familiar pools of blue. Mishiro wanted to scream at him. Pull him close, beg him to turn from his path of self-destruction and stop. She wasn't ignorant. She wasn't naive. He told her himself that he had sinned: he killed someone, cut another's arm off, and hurt many more. He told her he wanted it. Why was he looking at her - right now - in that way, then? Why would he continue to do something he already knew was wrong? Why would he reject help when it was already being offered to him? Why would he yell at her to leave then speak to her again behind a mask? Why would he have thought she would take a stranger's words better than his.

 

Why did he want to die?

 

She didn't understand. She wanted to understand. 

 

He drew away from her. If she had any humor to find in this hopeless situation, she would have laughed at the irony of it. He was the one backing away this time. He was the one running away when he wasn't supposed to. It was exactly what she did the last time they met. 

 

"Please," Mishiro breathed. "I'm right here. I don't want you to do this to yourself anymore! If you're feeling lost⁠—"

 

He vanished, leaving her grasping at empty apologies and the cold remnants of his familiar's shadowy mist. 

 

[He stood by the doorway, awkwardly looking about with an expression that dictated he was rather unsure of himself.

Curiously, she drew closer. She could recall feeling the same way when she first ventured out of the inn without Roman's company.

"Are you alone today?"]

 

—Then I'll be here to help you make sense of everything, like I once did.

 

Desperately, her eyes flared an icy blue. She clutched his discarded mask to her chest and scoured her surroundings for any lingering presence. Duels with Roman taught her how to fight against stealth. Keep her senses sharpened. Be alert to even the smallest disturbances. But she had never seen any need to learn what she should do when it came to finding someone retreating while in stealth.

 

There was no hesitation in her as she stepped forward and took off at full speed. She passed the boundaries of the <<Garden>> and disappeared into the thick forest beyond. Pushed her speed to the limits and felt the weariness from the sudden overexertion of energy seep in from the corners of her mind. Faster. There was no point. Faster. Roman's coat snagged on a branch and tore. Faster. But if there was the smallest of chances that he would see her and stop and turn around—

 

She came to a stop, facing the empty woods and the reality that she couldn't find a stealthed player who did not want to be found. Mishiro fell to her knees, panting. She wrapped her arms around herself and a small broken sound escaped from her lips.

 

Alone. Alone again. A mix of emotions brewed like a storm in her heart and she didn't know how to release it. Wasn't this why she chose to abstain from emotional attachments in the first place?

 

Mishiro discarded a gauntlet and rubbed her eyes. She picked up Pinball's mask and rose to her feet, catching her breath. Ice blue eyes surveyed her surroundings for danger and she steadily regained her bearings. Turning back the way she came, she delicately dropped the mask into her inventory and picked up her glove. 

 

She returned to the <<Garden>> and leaped over the fence. The girl looked about, searching.

 

"Huginn...?"

 

Pleasebetherepleasebetherepleasebethereidon'twanttobealonerightnow.

 

He wasn't there.

❄❄❄

THREAD SUMMARY

 

Huginn

• 1 SP
• 270 Col
• 4 T1 Materials

Mishiro

• 1 SP
• 100 Col
• 6 T1 Materials

Pinball

• 1 SP
• 150 Col

Edited August 26, 2019 by Mishiro