[SP-01] <<Shadowed Path>> Acquisition Thread

[Plot Master 0]

It was early evening, leaning towards twilight.  The sun raced at its celestial pace towards an artificial horizon that was hard to see from the tightly packed streets of the Town of Beginnings.  Darkness and the taint of long shadows had already swept over the city.  Most of the NPCs were already closing up their shops, making ready to switch to their overnight activities.  For some, that meant nothing more than vanishing until Cardinal called them back from nothingness to tend to their appointed tasks.  The lucky few had homes or haunts to frequent.  A handful were tasked to keep their shops open over later hours, serving nocturnal clientele, or perhaps as a nod to SAO’s future expansion plans to other time zones.  Prayers were sparingly offered that it had never been given the chance.  Rarely were there deviations from the established patterns.  Rarely.

A small figure lingered in the abandoned streets of one residential area, on the eastern side of town - the dawn side.  A grin flashed over lips unseen beneath its hooded features, cloaked as much by clothing as the absence of light.  Purple turned to indigo, overhead, then the first stars struggled back into existence. The metaphor seemed apt. Day had ended, marking the hour for bumpy things to play, and tonight’s would be a most interesting game.  

A knock on the door.  Two nearly-silent taps followed by a louder and unmistakable third rap.  A note scrawled in broken font on a loose leaf of perfectly square velum.  The figure vanished upon delivery, as if it had never existed.

@NIGHT

[NIGHT 0]

her.

the word, her name, felt like a stain on her tongue, in her mouth. she hated it. all night could do was examine the miniature script, over and over, eyes running over the broken scribbles and undecipherable intention.

jet karesanui. south quarter. 2am.

who the hell was 'i'? the messenger themselves, or a different unit altogether? the player's head was spinning, thoughts swirling, impatience rooted through her form.

the time was 1:25am.

they'd already decided it wasn't related to the matter of them. no players nor word of mouth; they'd kept their traps shut on the matter, and until proven otherwise, they weren't keen on finding any one guilty. then, how apt -- of course cardinal would take the difficult way out of speaking to her secondary only through another entity, another method of messaging, rather than directly speaking to the woman herself, halt her, even. just to complicate their lives a little more.

or, perhaps, it was to enforce the danger that night herself was about to face. 'no second chances', it meant. not like she'd ever liked her second chance, either way.

the player had every means to have gotten some bit of shut eye during the in between, the hours before that meeting time. and night knew better than to waste her time resting, of course, awake and pestering bistro on one of the many favours they owed to each other. sat at the kitchen table, a steel ring spun around and gently fiddled with her hand, its grating stirs against the wood grain were accompanied by the irritant tapping of her other index, a short nail upon surface.

she blinked. the mail indicator beeped. pulled from her distant stupor, her menus flickered open only to find... nothing.

bistro: sorry love, no luck.
bistro: tell me more about it when you get back from it, okay?
bistro: supplies at my shop. past closing time just for you.
night: thanks

and it was in distaste that she shoved her menus open to pour through her consumables.

it was bahr that once warned her against taking so many of them, on her guard when she shouldn't need to be expecting a fight. she reasoned civility. her 'benefactor' was meeting her in a safe zone, after all.

but she found her actions justified once she turned her head upwards again, that gloved hand leaving the door handle, one type of frost on her skin switched for another, swirl of cool breeze following her figure's trail.

upstairs, crumpled by the floor, a fraught cluster had her eyes open, cloak of white now grey in the dark spurned over her form. by the door she sat, javelin in her arms, blue pools losing their luster.

if cardinal wanted to toy with aincrad's residents, then so be it. the players were there for such aim.

 

but by the heavens above--

-- that's no way to treat a creation of your own.

---

a shuffle of footsteps. under the cover of darkness, she showed. almost a mockery of the night, coated white; she was taking her difference's place amongst the black sand, player careful not to fall as she paced over leading stones across the garden. that was her best guess from the missive; south quarter, one of the public zen gardens in the town of beginnings. the message hadn't been entirely detailed, and so doubt curled after her steps as her gaze scanned the vicinity, brows furrowed in agitation.

if they were here, and they'd wanted to talk, she was undoubtedly present.

	| NIGHT  | Status: [fingers sliding over the edges of the ring in her pocket.] Notes: estimated: lv31/p57.
	Spoiler NIGHT | HP: 1008/1008 | EN: 122/122 | DMG: 29 | ACC: 5 | EVA: 5 | MIT: 43 | LM: 1 | HLY: 8 | PHASE | LD: 8 | BH: 50 | TXV: 32 | PRLYZ | DOTE: 2 | Stealth Rating: 5  equipment Orgoth's Legacy ACC, PHASE, HOLY (8) Weathered White Duster+4 MIT (18), LM, HB Silver Crescent Necklace ACC II, EVA II  battle-ready inventory Jack's Executioner BLD (48), BLI (32/-20MIT), FRB (40/-1ACC), STC (40/24SPLASH) Silver Ring PROSP III Teleport Crystal (3) | Instant | TELEPORT Imugi's Inspiration (5) | Instant | MASS HP RECOVERY [10%] Imugi's Inspiration (5) | Instant | MASS HP RECOVERY [10%] Imugi's Inspiration (5) | Instant | MASS HP RECOVERY [10%] [ref] Waltz of the Damned (3) | Instant | INCARCERATION  skills Spoiler mod count: 7/7 2HSS | RANK 5/5 ferocity, stamina CLOTH ARMOR | RANK 5/5 athletics, nimble COMBAT MASTERY: DMG | RANK 3/3 SEARCHING | RANK 3+1/5 tracking BATTLE HEALING | RANK 3/5 EXTENDED MOD LIMIT ENERGIST FAMILIAR: PROFESSION extra SURVIVAL CONCENTRATION HIDING blindside, vanish, surprise attack-t [CS] METAMORPHOSES  consumed buffs Spoiler statue KUMATETSU | +1 DMG consumables One Beast's Defiance | ANTIDOTE II | [150565-1] Crème Brûlée | ACCURACY II | [176314] Smores | EVASION II | [176133-1] Liquor of Light | DAMAGE III  Breakfast Fry | PROTEIN II  Berry Crumb Bars | LOOT DIE III | [178063] Divinity's Protection | OVERHEALTH III | [164122-1] | FILLED [QR] Serpent's Tongue | TOXIC VENOM, PARALYZE [T3] Divinity's Wait | MITIGATION III | [166925-3]  misc buffs Spoiler housing Dimensional Backpack, Item Stash | +2 Battle-Ready Inventory Slots. Well Rested | -1 EN for the first three expenditures of each combat.  Relaxed | +(5 * Tier) HP per out-of-combat post. Full energy restoration occurs after two turns out of combat. Squeaky Clean | -25% DoT damage taken from the first DoT applied to this player in a thread. Skylight: Searching | +1 Expertise to declared utility skill. Cooldown of 30 days to reassign. Multipurpose | +1 LD/Prosperity/Stealth/Detection to one post per thread. Can be applied after a roll. Filling | +1 T1 slot to a food consumed by this player in a thread. Can exceed Cook enhancement caps. Col Deposit | +5% col from loot-minimum mobs, +10% col from treasure chests. paragon Lv. 5 | Gain additional col equivalent to 10% of EXP earned in that thread. Lv. 10 | +3% EXP Gain. gathering Greenhouse | +2 G.EXP, +1 CD&LD to gathering attempts. Familiar: Profession | +2 G.EXP Demeter's Cornucopia | +1 CD to gathering attempts.

[Plot Master 0]

Few lights remained twinkling in the south quarter at such a late hour.  Those that did were sparse and often served as safe harbour for lost souls with no other place to stay, offering pale solace against the terrors of the night.  Even safe zones have their dangers.

Bounded by a low, circular stone wall, roughly two feet high and the same across, the jet garden occupied the central space in an otherwise unremarkable plaza away from the main roads and paths of travel.  The surrounding area was largely residential, dominated by tightly packed traditional Japanese minka, adapted to various degrees to suit their occupants.  All were dark and shuttered, serving only as background to the slow drizzle of rain that fell as NIGHT approached. 

The garden itself was aptly named, composed of black stones, most rounded smooth and raked into unruly patterns.  Rain accentuated a stark contrast of dim lights shimmering on their slick surfaces and seeming to move like waves as the viewer's perspective changed.  Mid-sized, concave and elongated slabs served as bowls that slowly filled with water while several larger, dark lumps stood taller, like idle monoliths in a raging tempest at sea.  The entire scene seemed unsettled, despite being completely still.

“You came.”

No source revealed itself, but the voice sounded small, feminine, and relieved?

“You’re the only one I know to have treated us with this special degree of mercy.  Some spare us.  Others slay us outright.  All of them just want the prize.  But you…”

One of the dark lumps nearest the garden’s centre unfurled to become a slender young woman with long blonde hair paired in tails at her back.  Her clothes were those of a servant, and overly elaborate for the neighbourhood, yet also all too familiar to SAO’s source lore.  In the monochromatic darkness of the scene, the slowly spinning yellow crystal over her head stood out like a glaring beacon.  Wide eyes gazed upon NIGHT with desperate hope while also withered with the anguish of unspoken torment and desperation.

“…you kept one of us by your side.”

***

(Note: This area is considered to be in dim light.  ACC penalties apply, unless mitigated against by Night Vision, Glow Stone, etc.)

Edited July 18, 2021 by Plot Master

[NIGHT 0]

she couldn't see. the figure was a hazy outline; familiar, known all too well from her blurry gaze, in between the downpour and the late shadowy atmosphere.

(the time was exactly 2am.)

she didn't need to know anything further than the yellow diamond above her rendezvous' appearance how the subject of their topic arose from thin air. how, despite their best efforts to keep their secrets concealed, cardinal always found a way to toy with them and their emotions. how it always chose the types most likely to play on her own, especially on her lonesome.

a hazy outline, indeed. night would keep the figure that way, buying into exhaustion's temporary purchase as she fumbled further with the piece in her pockets, searching for the words she'd needed to be spoken.

--oh, she'd listened. the player hadn't thought she would've been the first out of many. was this about the gemini, or was this about constructs in general? she could've gone on a tangent about the undergoings of different players, keeping each of them company despite their differences in age, size and make. various sorts of interactions, as long as cardinal was willing to allow.

so hers was different. and though it scared her to know she was 'the only one' to have bowed to the will of cardinal, to have given into empathy, knowing the consequences of doing so, it scared her even more to think she'd be the last to extend that good will. how many more would the system be willing to mark for deviation?

night had a hunch, in that giddy, streetlight blur. golden sheens were the most she caught in focus before allowing her vision to slip away again, just as the rain stung at her lashes and dripped away down her duster. so cold, so blue. she bet the colours alone would've worked into a fitting painting, never mind the subject of the art piece, similar -- or different -- as they may have been.

i know what you did, the message had said.

night wasn't the type to memorize things, but the threat was fixed, stuck at the forefront of her mind.

her fingers gathered around the ring toyed with, index and middle curling it close. a whisper, tainted, with venom and a plea and an earnest curiosity--

"what do you want?"

-- for what more did reality want with her that cardinal could not provide without daily interruption?

[Plot Master 0]

The gentle press and clatter of stone on stone beneath slow-moving footfalls broke against the darkness.  The figure moved, its arms by its sides, without any evidence of weapon or malicious intent.   A cloak draped over her slight shoulders was too large and eagerly sought to swallow her frail form.  The wind whistled through nearby streets setting off shrill shrieks like banshees sweeping out the gutters.  Something drew NIGHT’s attention - a fleeting bit of movement at the edge of her peripheral vision.  Were they not alone?  

Her gaze had drifted but an instant.  It had been enough - the duration of a flick of an eye.  The young stranger stood barely two feet away from her now, slight shorter but of similar build.  It was hard to be sure when comparing the frills and puffery of a maid's dress against a track suit.  How had the stones gone silent at her passing?  Their surface shimmered, still, beneath the increasingly heavy waves of precipitation that threatened to turn into a torrent.

Desperate.  Anguished.  Those were the words leaping to mind as NIGHT gazed into the girl’s sallow eyes.  They looked like they should be blue and full of life, but something had drained their tone.  It was like looking at a colour photocopy of a colour photocopy, multiplied ad infinitum.  Stretched thin.  Haggard.  Bags belied the youth that should have been evident.  All of it could be false.

“I just want my freedom.”  

Rivulets streamed down her face, marred by stray hairs of gold fallen out of place and convention.  Her master would surely not approved, based on the manner of her dress alone.  

“Please,” she begged, lips warbling as they turned slowly from red to purple towards blue.  “I need you to help me die.”
 

[NIGHT 0]

she wasn't going to see it.

she didn't want to see it.

she knew cardinal was sly and tricksy in its ways.

even as the other's approach was simple, straightforward on their path, there was something night felt like she needed to do: figure in her sights, blurred once. she wasn't going to see it, when they drew in closer, and she had the gall to shift her sights away, so that only a sliver of their form was in view. a maid outfit? how quaint.

the bite against the side of her mouth would've bled had this been non-virtual, when she did, finally and accidentally, take in those eyes of caliginous blue. it was almost a betrayal of her will, her image of them, of her falling apart in the milliseconds between her blink and bounced gaze. sullied. mistreated. neglected.

a gulp sank down her throat.

who could've done this?

"i just want my freedom," she had said.

don't we all? night's reply would've been.

but then there was the rain, and the crying. the tears she'd so desperately wanted to wipe from her face. their face, night had to remind herself, feeling a tilt in the world just as one might've observed sliding down a slippery slope on one stormy hour. and she was parched, wanting to care for something so ruined, so delicate, so broken and lost. and yet, they were filled with mysteries that night not only had to seek the answers for, but that cardinal was yet to provide.

somewhere, between these lines, perhaps they would reach a crossroads of conclusion.

it was against her better judgement to have stayed, complied to cardinal playing strings to mortal will. it would've taken a bigger person, better at this, heartless and ruthless to have accepted an affirmative and taken the first swing. but then where would that leave night, on nothing but logic and reasoning?

(as far as the player was concerned, her love for lynn had already broken all those boundaries.
still it thrived on. still it lived. still she'd wanted it--)

a sharpening of features. if there was one more ghost that could crawl out from calming the soul, now, that cardinal had restructured and gotten a better analysis of her as a player, perhaps this living enigma would've been one of them. and night took her all in; haggard and distressed and begging. begging for her life.

she didn't want to see it.

heart heavy. eyes gleaming. the player felt her jaw go slack.

she wasn't going to see it.

she'd almost wanted to take the other in, no, it wasn't lynn, and hold her tight in her arms. to soothe, to forsake the stranger's troubles, to abandon all forethought and focus on the here and now. she needed caring. she would need caring for.

she knew cardinal was sly and tricksy in its ways.

 

were they not alone?

it would take a knight's effort, valiant and confident, to have strode over to the strangers side and pull her in for a tight and protective embrace. it would take just as much for night to pull herself together to do exactly that, knowing full well the mockery that yellow crystal above the servant's head was to such an action, such a fool, bending to cardinal's will so easily.

so night wasn't willing to shift. no, she was willing to move. the question just became how much.

the player summoned not her weapon, seconds ticking down as she finally began to process the moment. steps forward echoed in the dusk: the splashing of water underfoot, pour still heavy, noisy and powerful. surely it would've covered up the words she might have spoken to the other, laced with concern with tinges of yearning in between the lines.

surely, night was certain, it would've covered up the footwork of the other amidst their presence, had she been certain it wasn't a shadow of her imagination in their dark.

close enough to stand by their side; that was the distance that night would try to push for. right arms paralleled, the gap of an inch apart from them, she'd speak in a low volume, only barely loud enough for her partner to have heard.

"who's putting you up to this?"

it almost came as a purr how her rationale began to flow out her mouth. breathy. her heart was beating fast. a familiar of soreness on her skin, just at her abdomen came to burn again. she set aside the thought.

"this is a safe zone," night reasoned. "i can't do that here. if there's someone else you need help defending yourself from, you're going to need to tell me about it right now.'"

[Plot Master 0]

“Whuh… what?”  The small figure blinked, her smooth, delicate brow suddenly cross with confusion, either masterfully delivered or actually genuine.  “N-no… you misunderstand,” she stammered water flooding down the front of her face, running in rivulets to drip off her nose and lips, or pooling in her folds of a hastily-tied cloak that failed to service its wearer.  If she stood still long enough, maybe it would drown her, sparing NIGHT from her inconvenient request?

“I am a Gemini,” she admitted, with strangely little hesitation and a disturbingly hefty dose of self-awareness.  “But I am bound to another whose form I wear like a skin, and bear as a curse.”  Colour drained from her face as she spoke, her voice and eyes torn by some as-yet unspoken misery.  

“I chose this place to make you feel safe!”  Pleading.  Desperation.  A virtual panic set to the voice of a young woman, barely more than a child by appearance, and yet also Cardinal’s agent.  NIGHT would know the dangers and the system’s talent for deception.  It had rules, but not moral boundaries.  The girl moved to grab NIGHT's arm by instinct, but stopped herself almost instantly.  Terror clouded her dimmed blue eyes, brought on by the prospect that she might scare her would-be savior off through overly rash action.  Her hands fell limply by her side once more, fidgeting with the sopping wet frills on the cuffs of her outfit.

Clearing her throat, she made the attempt to restore some semblance of vanity and composure.  It made a sound like thunder rattling across the plaza amidst the ongoing storm.  Even the girl was surprised and distraught by its reverberant echoes clattering all about.  For a moment, the player felt as if the mob, too, might fear being overheard by its master.

“It won’t matter where we go.”  

Flesh turning grey with cold and warbling lips closing towards purple, it was obvious that they could not remain, yet much had yet to be explained.

“Come, please, if you will?  There is a pl… pl… place nearby where we can talk.”  A dainty,  finger, wracked by wrinkled from wetness, pointed to a house down a distant tavern down one of the adjoining side streets.  No one would be there at this hour, save some lonely, dozing barkeep fulfilling a program’s obligations.

“I can explain, b… b… but… it’s c… c...complicated.  Please.  Hear me out.”  Begging.  Fidgeting fingers now clutching those same frills.  NIGHT had seen the same look in the eyes of players who could no longer bear the stresses and struggles of the game.  It never ended well for them. 

Lightning flashed overhead.  A rumble of true thunder followed and a fresh gust of wind urged them along with the subtlety of a mountain falling onto your face.  Was she sobbing?!  The rain obscured any trace, yet her shoulders heaved and fell, partly missed during the storm's angry outcry.  Maybe it was just the cold?  Either way, it made no sense to be standing here any longer than was necessary.

"P...p..please!"

Edited September 17, 2021 by Plot Master

[NIGHT 0]

the story beats played out the way she knew them, the way cardinal was aware of them.

gemini. lynn. a curse.

(on who?

the thought of it almost begged night to have given a chuckle.)

"i am a gemini," the doppel had declared. and the player almost felt giddy, heavy demeanor almost breaking. if she were to be asked a reason for it, night certainly wouldn't have been able to reply. that this was a recurring tradition in aincrad? that so many people fit her type? or that geminis as she knew them, the speaking type, the type to rationalize themselves with players, were starting to become more common where she knew them to be?

(if that were the case, how come no one else was talking about them? no intel from bistro, no large headlines about the development of entity behaviour in her newspapers? that there weren't more body doubles walking around on the streets? because she yet knew adventurers were many, even within the town of beginnings...)

--and i'm a capricorn.

the words had threatened to escape her lips, resting on her tongue, if the desperation of the other hadn't broken her back into their reality. in that shift, that recall, night had caught another glance of the woman's eyes. liquid blues that pulled her in, reminded her of what made her soft inside. warm and fuzzy, despite being out in the cold. in an instant, her thoughts were loosened, palette cleared.

in the next, her sights stole into the darkness. remembrance. the understanding of them being in a safe-zone repeated with clarity within her mind. she'd wanted to scoff, but thought against it, aware of her audience.

to feel safe. night wasn't sure if the right train of thought was to counter it with the truth or with a question.

you or i? she decided, just a moment too slow. her gaze shifted when grey fingers reached out towards her, closing the gap between them, and night's mind went blank again.

(to her, time seemed to slow. a storm in her own head; that drum beat locked in her skull just as she watched them falter. there was quality to rain and darkness, a quality to their early morning meet. some unique spark about stowing away to see someone special.

fuel churned in her stomach again, but for a different reason, a different fire. and in the back of her throat, a bitter venom rose in response.)

it was subconscious then, her own movements: flinching, and a shallow breath. that lengthy inhale. they were actions that only began once the entity gave up on following through, hand dangling by her side once again. and in the seconds afterwards, night steadied herself again. to fix her composure. the memory played in her head, and the feeling of wanting to reciprocate, to reach out and connect ate at her gut just as much as her other was probably trying to restrain herself.

the player could see it. it was written all over her face. (/s)

cardinal knew exactly how to play her, and night knew herself to be a willing instrument, even if she fought to be unbent.

 

“it won’t matter where we go.”

words out in a whisper. the skies continued to pour, almost as if on the construct's side, trying to mask her insight as though it could be obscured by sound. and night wondered if she'd imagined the rustle in the bushes, the feeling of being watched and followed. she wondered the eyes might have been cardinal, the whole time, the system to watch her dance to its own amusement.

(what fun would a program have in toying with its players, anyway?)

it wouldn't matter where they went, and yet her associate would direct them elsewhere still. a finger pointed towards a tavern in the distance. night turned to look, noting its unremarkable appearance. at the back of her mind, she fought to ignore the effects of the girl's stammer on her psyche.

“i can explain, but it’s complicated. please. hear me out.”

night thought back to the fumbling of frills. dull skin draping fingers, trembling, cold and reaching out. she thought of the rain and its frost, the warmth of an empty tavern in the middle of nowhere.

she thought about the astrology books she'd read before. she thought about being a capricorn, and about how her instincts put together that this was ought to be a trap. she thought about walking away; that was the best option, after all. life was better for anyone when the world wasn't calling them early in the morning, for one reason or another, to complicate their life and trying to end it on their behalf.

when she dared look upon the entity's face once again, she thought about home. about someone just like her, curled up by the door of her plain and empty room. about the only source of pure light in the darkness.

she wondered if her own life was worth the trouble.

night tossed her head towards the tavern. her eye lids appeared to be drooping, but it wasn't so much from sleep nor exhaustion. the pit in her stomach was stoked again as she did so, gave away her gesture of approval, and alongside that flame was a numbness bleeding into the forefront of her form.

(cardinal was unrelenting. and night knew she was more than willing to be flexible.)

"lead the way."

[Plot Master 0]

Pursed lips followed by a sigh of relief released as the slightest puff of visible breath in the cold, relentless rain.  The sky was full of tears tonight, and the stars had turned away.  A small marble fell into her hand and sputtered to life with dim blue light - a glow stone.  It wasn’t much, but might save them both a twisted ankle or the awkward disgust of stepping on a fattened rat.  Taking the lead, the maiden turned her back to NIGHT and tried to pull the paltry thing she called a cloak farther over her head for shelter.  It offered little more than before.  A glance was spared to see that she was followed, then footsteps echoed on slick cobblestones washed clean of the day’s refuse.  Too much here was mystery, and worthy of lingering on edge.

Warmth and light spilled out from the doorway as she opened it, drowning out the feeble stone’s efforts and compelling the guide to return it to her pocket.  Trails of water ran off her drenched uniform and skin, marring the prints of her shoes upon the wood plank floor.  Ruts had been worn in the sections nearest the threshold, stained by years of mud and other substances.

“Hey!  I just mopped that!”

A coin flung with diminutive fury beaned the barkeep right between the eyes, eliciting a yelp and battery of feeble apologies.  Two warm drinks were swiftly shunted their way by means of recompense.  Something brown and steaming inside smelled decent, but the appearance was suspiciously distasteful.

“Time to turn in for the Night,” the girl hissed through clenched teeth, her double meaning lost upon their host.  The rest found purchase and he vanished behind another door, rattling keys suggesting that he’d locked himself in.  No one else was present.  

The room itself was small and sparsely furnished.  A trio of lanterns hanging from the exposed beams and rafter above provided modestly shadowed ambience.  There was little ornamentation.  Four rickety wooden stools struggling to pretend to purpose huddled up against a bar with more holes, dents and notches than clean or solid surfaces.  It was stained so many different shades that its grain was lost and species of origin impossible to discern.  A pile of broken chairs and tables lay piled in the corner, behind a small rickety sign that someone had pinned to the wall reading ‘under renovations.’  Evidently, this was a frequent enough occurrence that the sign itself was reusable and could be spun around between events.  It bore hints of spilled drinks and gravy as proof.  The ramifications of an earlier brawl were clearly not yet remediated.

“Please,” the mob said, gesturing to one stool as she claimed another, struggling a bit to hop up to the proper height.

***

[Please make a Stealth Detection check upon entering the space and include it in your post]

 

[NIGHT 0]

gaps between dream and reality proved themselves existent, the woman taking her eyes off the glow stone to the shift of the pawn's gestured hand. one pelt of something similarly shiny -- night wouldn't have been surprised if she'd mistaken the lobbed object for that held light, but the registration of unkindness, one construct to another, felt just off enough to have clicked her awareness back into place.

she shimmied inside. the scent of delicacy caught her attention, but did no more to persuade her to partake in it once the mugs were placed down on the counter, contents bubbling suspiciously. rather, the player felt the urge to shake off the rain immediately; duster, tracksuit and gloves off for the time being, with a rub of her hair using a spawned towel. the equipment immediately restored on her figure when she felt dry enough not to dampen them once again, the items less wet than before when they'd resumed existence in reality.

a whisper of something telling, had the player caught it. instead, her head shot back up from her outfitting matters, eyes narrowed as she'd assumed her title was called. but nothing other than an invitation to sit was thrown her way.

she must've imagined it, then.

... probably.

night gingerly eased herself onto one of the other stools; her fingers were hesitant to grab the splintering surfaces, the woman leaning her grip towards the balls of her palms than her extremities. the player's sights were trained on signs of struggle and stained wood from (what she could assume was) a rowdy eve before. they remained there, when she'd taken her seat, gaze only bouncing around the room in examination of the shambled state of the establishment. a part of her wondered if the quality of lodgings on the first had really deteriorated to such a state. a year, maybe two, made a difference in her memory of such details, despite her past immense despise for its uncleanly appearance. such emotion should've regulated a permanent remembrance of its inconvenience...

the player returned her attention to the other when she'd appeared ready. not that night was ever certain how to begin a conversation, especially under the two's abnormal circumstance. a curt, strained voice was all she could manage, elbow leaning on the rotting ledge, hand on the side of her cheek. "name," she ordered, though her expression was meek, the woman still unable to meet the construct's eyes.

---

ID198712 | stealth detection | LD 12 + 4 = 16

[Plot Master 0]

"Melody," the creature spat out, then groaned, as if mere utterance of the brand burned a soul it shouldn't possibly possess.  "Or, that's this particular prey's name."  Looking into the contents of her mug, sheer disgust blemished what to others would appear as a picture of sweet, youthful innocence.  Contrasted against her sopping blond curls and dainty digits clenched around a comically oversized tankard, the entire image seemed 'off', but so did everything else about this evening's venture.

"We don't get such things.  Our identities are borrowed, even if only for fleeting moments.  Oh, but they are blissful while they last!"  A long draught interrupted the girl's griping, as a trail of dark, viscous liquid languidly ran from the corner of still-cold lips, completely ignored as a chill and shudder shivered up her spine.  Words and voice clashed with clear tones of conjoined, bitter lust and misery. 

"We are creatures of change, by nature.  To remain trapped in a single form for so long.  It's... torture, of a kind."  A sudden turn on her stool sprayed a fan of droplets across the floors, some reaching NIGHT's fleshly dried outerwear.  Realization had only just dawned.  "How is it yours has not gone mad?!"  The look in her eyes made it clear that whatever predicament had befallen this mob had taken some sort of toll.  Could mobs even experience such imbalance?  Were they not simply fulfilling pre-programmed parameters?  Could this one be different, or was it just another part of Cardinal's incessant probing?

"Melody," she repeated, sneering, "fell to the dark waters during the storm.  We hunted each other throughout that wretched rain.  And it plagues me still!"  Slamming the flagon on the bar, or just dropping it due to weight, the contents sloshed and spilled slightly as the girl shook a frilly fist at the door through which they had entered.  Lighting taunted her through the window, accompanied by the low rumble of mocking thunder.  Pursing her lips, defeat bled fleeting defiance from her tiny form.  No amount of rage would release her from her fate.  Releasing her drink instead, she pressed the ball of her far hand against her forehead, stress and strain visible as she squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to purge herself of her dilemma.

"Have you ever heard of The Shadowed Path?"

The term fell like a stone, fracturing the space between them with a magnitude measured in silence.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'."  Azure orbs re-opened and set their weary gaze upon the player seated before them.  "And you likely also know that such talents are passed on by the death of the bearer."  False Melody's voice grew ever more faint as she spoke, as if mere whisper was enough to set loose a flight of rabid PKer ninjas from the rafters to slay them both for daring to speak of such things aloud.  "There are other ways, but... oh, right,"  she blinked and slid something that hadn't been there before along the bar.  "Details, dear lady.  Details."  Coming to a stop with the slightest bump into the player's elbow, she recognized the image instantly, though it carried a twist. 

"The rules must still be followed."

Spoiler

 

[NIGHT 0]

there existed a concept in programming: inheritance, night felt to recall, while watching the sliver of slop run across the entity's carved complexion. not that it was similar in concept to the situation she found known geminis to be trapped in. that disowning of her original's name seemed to come naturally to this particular mirror, and a wry thought struck the player if it was just the same for her own, had night one day felt the need to disappear. it wouldn't make sense for artifacts in the system to linger, the woman processed. this was the height of technical prowess, after all, the reality that they were trapped in.

"we are creatures of change, by nature. to remain trapped in a single form for so long. it's... torture, of a kind."

dysphoria in its strongest form, and now the player wasn't sure if it was better to refer to the stranger as her affliction or as her past tenant. she flinched, just as the liquid splattered across the dusty wood -- night gave a hiss on instinct, quiet and soft, before her eyes darted to the construct's own visage. almost braving a bolt of lightning, her gaze struck 'melody's own, only for words to fail her, breath swallowed than lingered on her tongue.

"how is it yours has not gone mad?!"

like she'd asked for this to happen. aincrad and day and 'melody' and everything else in between.

something had happened to the other player, that much night was capable of processing from listening. but slotted between eternal turmoil, taunting by cardinal one way than the other, she'd pick the demon she was much more familiar with. (gentler, softer. the sort of memory that would haunt her for a lifetime.) the player had been here to bargain, to comprehend why the system would toy them in such a manner.

"i didn't ask for your life story," night shot back, almost dryly so, after 'melody's spiel had been cleared, the entity's head turned towards the door. huddled to herself, she didn't look as confident as her voice might've clued her audience in to be; arms folded, sharp eyes holding terseness, friction for the mess ahead of her.

what was the point of listening to the pawn speak, again? the player did wonder. a system-fashioned loose end to clean up?

what was she, cardinal's janitor?

"have you ever heard of the shadowed path?"

 

 

truthfully, the answer had been no. but the change in subject had been abrupt, and night had years of information to sift through, information she couldn't particularly guarantee was accurate nor tangible. so when the stranger assumed a positive otherwise, the player resigned herself to being strung along on exposition for such a concept. if it was as grandiose as 'melody' had made it out to be, surely, the meta thing to do would be to re-explain it for the glory of it all.

they'd skipped this step, apparently. the clues and familiarity of such a rumor, a myth were only registered in her eyes once she'd skimmed the vague window. spoken details regarding 'the death of its bearer' echoed again in her mind--

accept.

--and just as quickly as those warning bells had sounded in her mind, they were gone.

 

(in the seconds that followed, it was the recollection of another concept that had slipped into her mind; the thought of handing someone an item, to hold, while they were in the midst of a conversation. usually, they'd be too distracted to notice or ask about why they were enrolled into performing such an action. these questions were usually saved for later, once the discussion was over, or a break in the parties' talk was necessary -- on such occasions, they would be nothing but mere trifles.)

(but there was a distaste on her tongue once the player had realized her empty-minded acknowledgement.)

(with a blink, night had to ask herself the same damn one.)

[Plot Master 0]

"i didn't ask for your life story,"

“No.  No, of course you didn’t.”  The mob seemed wounded by NIGHT's tone, let alone the possible implications of the harshness of her retort.  Gemini were accustomed to mistrust and hostility, but this one was in the unfamiliar headspace of requiring a savior. Exhaling made her realize that she’d been holding her breath to see whether the player would accept her crafting.  Now to the crux.  This was the tricky part, and relied upon good nature and a moral compass that had been assumed, based on limited evidence. 

“Rare skills, like the Shadowed Path, can only be held by a single person at a time.  It is both a gift, and a curse.”  Pain flinched across her eyes as she revealed the latter. A hint of something seen earlier, returned.  Slender digits fidget as she speaks, pinching each other harshly as her stress and anxiety visibly increase.  Strands of wetted blond get tangled upon and soon her hands are bound by a web of her own designs.

“When such a skill is lost, specifically by neglect, a process is triggered to select a new bearer.  It’s a rather random thing, apparently.”  Chewing on her lip, the mob struggled to maintain her momentum.  Doubts settled over her, wondering whether she could follow through with this, or should.  So carefully crafted were her mannerisms.  So… real. 

The same traits, under the glare of a sickly yellow marker, carried her words and actions firmly into the uncanny valley.  They felt wrong, yet somehow still genuine and true.  What was its game? When would the other shoe fall, and what intentions did it hold?  Doubts.  So many doubts.

“Melody has the very best and worst of luck, it seems.  She won the lottery, and could lose everything because of it.”

[NIGHT 0]

to lose... everything?

a restless gaze. multiple points of confusion. vagueness. from one point of the tavern, one section of rotting wood stared at towards another. night's vision teetered between haziness and focused, half due to exhaustion, half due to disassociation.

she was thinking. 'neglect'' was a specific word to use. someone having 'fallen' to the system-cleansing darkness was another. 'hunting' was just as so. and by all actuality, she couldn't recall anyone having been claimed by the storm, names written out on the monument by rumor because of it.

'she won the lottery, and could lose everything because of it.'

what, exactly, was being neglected here?

just because night had her own theories, it didn't mean she felt confident about stringing various pieces together. like beads in a friendship bracelet, an accessory, each element was chosen as the creator saw fit. never mind its intended target audience.

so she continued thinking. remained quiet under the scrutiny of the 'gemini'. it was only after a moment that she released a sigh, elbow rested on the counter, palm cradling one side of her face. a look of annoyance. growing uneasiness, where there should've been calm.

"what would you have me do, then?" fingers played with the hem of her duster, eyes tethered only to the outline of melody's stand-in, nothing more. "find her for you? hold you hostage, too?"

"--i don't keep pets as a service, mind you." some part of her figured it was in jest that she'd say it, but when the words left her mouth, her throat only began to tighten. the joke hadn't been worth it, and a tense growl eased its way out of the player's figure, an irrational attempt at soothing her demeanor.

[Plot Master 0]

"Don't you?!"  A flash of anger crossed false Melody's face, vanishing as suddenly as it had manifest, and replaced by an instant regret.  "Melody is going to die.  Nothing will prevent it now.  Others have learned who she is and what she's inherited, whether she wanted it or not."  The mob seemed genuinely conflicted.  

"I was charged with delivering her the quest, but something went... wrong.  A flood of darkness interfered.  It swallowed everything - by which I mean the whole of the world."  The girl blanched as her words fell from her mouth, eyes becoming distant and filled with terror, staring at an abandoned mug still steaming upon the counter.  Reaching for it, a metal clink rang out against the ceramic from a ring upon the gemini's finger.  She was married?  The emotions were far too real.  Were it not for her cursor and own admissions, it would be possible to think this creature to be just another random player.  Doubts festered.

"You need to kill her," her voice cracked and choked, confusion resting upon the gemini's face as if she wondered why.  "Soon.  Before one of the others does.  If they were to gain access to her 'gift', they could ravage the whole of Aincrad with it."  Reluctance lingered between them.  "And, it's the only way that I can ever know peace and freedom again.  Failing that, at this point, I'd settle for oblivion."

Fresh droplets joined that scattered pattern on the polished surface of the bar, the rest having been cast offs of rain from their entrance.  Melody, wracked by an un-tempered mashup of unfamiliar emotions, gripped the mug with such force that it creaked in her slender-fingered grasp.  Her jaw clenched and trembled simultaneously while shame and wrath forced her to turn her face away from NIGHT.  She seemed as angry with herself as with her circumstances, and having to drag another into this mess had only made it worse.

 

[NIGHT 0]

yep. shouldn't have said that. were wood pliable, night would've buried her back into it, making a hole out of the counter from her lean. and as more exposition followed, her attention shifted to the floorboards.

"melody is going to die."

"--please, i need you to help me die."

the rest of the gemini's words fell like an echo into an abyss, the player lost in her contemplation. and she did catch sight of that gleaming thing, upon the construct's hand -- wondered for a beat how similar it was to the types of accessories she made.

ring finger.

night stirred with resignation and fire.

"...let me get this straight," she started, when the room found quietness once again after a beat, the woman righting her position on her stool from her slump. her figure was still hunched over, fingers balled into fists, forearms resting upon her knees. "the one you were responsible for. melody. in light of her circumstances... you thought it better that you be put to the sword first?"

'everything' rotted slowly in her throat. petrichor, now bland, stung at her lungs, in her chest.

as if to gesture, she shot a glance at the gemini's hand. her sights went back to the entity's face. bristling, them -- but night couldn't tell which one.

dull purples into forsaken blues.

"how's it better that a player would be one to manage to find her?" her head dipped slightly, though she found herself getting upon her feet, sword hand spread out, almost ready to fish out the weapon from her inventory. "cardinal systems should have your person registered. between that and the messaging system, what's luck got to do with me?"

[Plot Master 0]

A blur of motion, impossibly fast and pressing the limits of what the eye could even follow as a blade flashed into existence and whirled from hand against hand.  The false Melody had produced a dagger from nowhere and sought to stab herself through the centre of her other appendage, flattened against the bar.  They were in a safe zone.  Nothing should have happened, though the thought occurred that self-injury might bypass such restrictions.  Who would test such a limit?  Hadn't countless souls been lost in the days and weeks after Kayaba's announcement.  Who knew how, for them all?  But the tip of the blade stopped short of penetrating.  Not by choice.  NIGHT could see the mob forcing with every iota of strength at its disposal, a semi-crazed rage marring her youthful beauty.  The knife had been halted by a higher power.

"I meant what I said, but not as you assumed it."  The words spilled out through clenched teeth, soon relaxed to the clatter of metal on wood as her weapon was released.  "I cannot be slain except by the one who triggered my quest, you see.  It's a solo thing, apparently, or so it's been explained to me.  I do not understand the meaning.  Nor do I need to.  The point is simple: I cannot die unless she dies first, and though I used that to great advantage to protect her at first..."  Pain and desperation flashed across her face.  "She has since lost the will to live."

Furtive flickers and nervous ticks spread through the gemini like a ripple in a pond.  She was visibly shaken by the prospects of the looming outcome.  "As I said before: others know what she is.  They are coming, and I cannot stop them all.  If only one slips through, she will not deny them their prize.  There is only one outcome remaining: someone worthy...er... must claim it first.  Someone else must kill her, and by extension me as well.  I..."  Tears welled in those big blue eyes.  "I needed someone who would listen to something like me.  Someone who could handle the responsibility.  Someone like..."

Her head spun sideways alerted by invisible alarm to a nearby threat.  

"NOOO!"

The knife vanished from the table, as did the door from its hinges, bursting outward in splintered shards by the force of the small woman's fury.  Lightning crackled and partially masked her footfalls as she raced out into the storm.  Time had run out.

Edited February 13, 2022 by Plot Master

[NIGHT 0]

'worthy'. so cardinal got to decide who lived and who died now, was it? by nature of selection, it made sense who got to the target first would reap the benefits of having taken out their mark. but that thought couldn't even sour on the flat of night's tongue.

tasted like a corpse. an object already slain, yet her blade hadn't moved at all. and infinitesimally, night found her pile of questions growing, an anger festering, reasons left unchecked and unverified.

she hadn't got through her fie once the construct shot out the door. hadn't gone through the concept of 'everything'; nor the difference between her understanding of the entity and its real self. immortal object, the disclaimer had read, and night only bled doubt as her teeth gnashed feet racing across the ground. slippery, out in the storm, and she charged like a bull following its matador once fake melody took of running after her threat.

fake melody needed to come back and answer more questions. night needed to speed up in her run.

if there was a faster method of traversal -- a gallop with armored gauntlets, or a mount skill players could take advantage of, night wasn't privvy to those specializations. it was pure defiance, pure vengeance that she gained speed enough to find herself side-by side with the fading star, almost breathing red as her feet barely touched the ground. make haste, they would -- but night would have her priorities, and she needed to make them fast.

"so there's no way out of this, you mean," she spat, saliva mixing in with downpour. "she has to die, and i to kill her -- and nobody involved has made any note of the consequences for her for doing so?"

a loss of will for life could always be reignited. one with missing directive could find newfound purpose. the decision to jump from absolute futility was, in part, reckless at best, and night was no counsellor, but there had to be a better way out of this situation than she'd expected.

"faster." the player growled, still a raging beast. the command was in part to herself, sneakers squelching, almost tripping, a futile attempt at trying to break physical restrictions of her cardinal-imposed avatar. and her executioner was calling, its heat calling at her fingertips, had it not been a weight that would slow their pace down. "i'll see to everyone else first before yourself. and you must be right behind her at all costs. you must see this to its end."

claws dug sharp into the concrete in between cobblestone.

"and mark my words. this is my threat to you."

[Plot Master 0]

When had they come so close to the city's outer walls?  Even in the depths of some thematically overbearing storm, the while stone of the Town of Beginning's barrier structure seemed to gleam with a friendly and comforting demeanor, only slightly diminished under the weather's pall.  Purpose and circumstance layered on another, darker skin, especially as NIGHT caught the barest vestige of a mob maid's outfit flicker over the battlements with lightning speed.  

As hard as NIGHT pushed, even with all her system enhanced prowess and agility, it was a struggle just to keep the barest hints of the girl within sight.  Fortunately, most of the lands immediately surrounding the city were open and relatively flat.  Farms dotted the crests of slightly rolling terrain, neatly organized into different-coloured ploughed parcels, some with plantings and others not.  It depended more on when the last player foraged in the area than any actual semblance to a growing cycle.  No one else was visible, at the moment.  Even the ever-present boars seemed to have wandered off to wherever such critters went when the system slipped into some alternate quest instance.  Or, maybe, she was the one who had slipped elsewhere?

Something exploded in the distance, conveniently timed to coincide with a flash of lightning in the darkness.  A puff of dust, mortar and stone rose into the air but was quickly subdued by the ambient rain, caking the ground with a sticky paste that threatened to slow NIGHT's progress.  False Melodie appeared to have pierced a farmhouse like a cannon ball as she raced towards her destination.  Judging by her trajectory, it was just over the next rise.  Another crack of lightning lit up the sky, filled with swirling clouds forming a ceiling so close to the ground that she might almost be able to leap up and touch it.  Even the air pressure seemed thicker and static filled the space like the aftermath of a hum still ringing just beyond the range of audible sound.

Cresting the hill revealed another farmstead, modest in size and layout.  It looked completely typical, blending in with all of its other rural counterparts dotted around this part of the floor.  Three conspicuous puffs of pixel dust hung in the air, arrayed in a line like dots connected by swift and unexpected death. Orange crystals still turned overhead, the last lingering traces of players who'd just met their fate.  From inside, the sound of a young girl's screech sounded more like a banshee's keening than it ever should.  

[NIGHT 0]

something amiss. the town of beginnings was never this ruined nor chaotic even in its harshest weathers. night didn't know when she'd slipped though the shift in reality, and the disappearance of other entities in the vicinity only marked an eerie sense of loneliness.

not that she'd slow down to inspect her surroundings. information in the details of the atmosphere only came in realization once she'd considered the clarity of the storm over the horizon, the lack of obstruction in her chase, the scatter of white light mixed with blue that trailed her steps once she'd brushed past them, empty space where something should've been.

at her rate of movement, even a side glance wasn't enough time for the player to comprehend what she was about to get into. and as her target crashed right into its destination, night followed, blind, hoping what crash of lightning would better illuminate the insides of that enclosed space.