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

[Plot Master 0]

"STAY BACK!  WHATEVER THE ACTUAL FUCK YOU ARE!"

A bizarre scene exposed.  NIGHT slowed to a stop, concealed by the fractured fragments  of rubblestone walls still standing after False Melody burst through them like a tank chasing a mouse.  Orange shards from recently expired players still dripped from the gemini's improvised weapon - a kitchen knife with three names on the Monument of Life now assigned to its credit.  Torrential rain  fell straight down all around them, as if the wind had chosen to hold its breath while matters were settled.  Beyond the broken edge of the farm house there remained a small space still sheltered and dry, the thatched roof somehow having survived Melody's cataclysmic entry.  It was lit by a tiny hooded lantern whose fuel was on the wane, much like the life beside it.  A tangible divide separated the two halves of the space, marked by the dark and sudden absence of rain and transitioning to light.  It felt like some sort of metaphorical window had been revealed between two worlds.  All that was missing was the Jabberwocky, or was that meant to be NIGHT's role?  

Opposite them was a young woman with short, black hair, straight cut and draped wildly over her eyes panicking over the unexpected turn of events.  Her dark clothing was matted wet and clung to her short but wiry frame.  Four of them had come for the prize, all at once.  Predictably they turned upon each other.  Four people could not wield one sword.  She'd only just made it inside to find her victim sitting on her bedside, wearing the same loli maid's outfit she'd assumed would bring her so much joy to roleplay during a bit of off time with her friends.  That was long ago, and they were gone now.  All of them.  Everyone she knew had vanished, one by one, until she was left alone.  Wandering the wilds outside of Krycim, mourning in the wilds and greenery that they had loved so much, Melody had met her own reflection and felt that maybe it was also time for her to go.  But a sudden flood of shadows swallowed the world, denying her the opportunity to choose by stripping the last vestiges of doubt from her mind.  Fate is rarely compliant to personal desire.  So she withdrew and withdrew, until there was nothing left of herself but some prize to be claimed  for the sake of feeding the power cravings of others, and she thinned to the point of becoming a veneer stretched taut over a worn out soul, ready to be popped like a balloon.  

"You take ONE more step and I will end her!"  The black haired assassin threatened, pressing the poisoned tip of her dagger against Melody's porcelain neck, handling her like the limp doll that she had become.  Dull eyes had lost all yearning, save that anticipated by the smallest and most discomforting of smiles, born by the prospect that she might finally get her wish.

"WASN'T THAT YOUR GOAL ANYWAY!?"  False Melody roared, fury and impotence mixing into some kind of miring muck akin to emotional deadlock.  Part of her wanted this over. She wanted the hunt and tortured existence to end, but NIGHT could also see the truth in he mob's eyes.  Somehow, despite all odds, she cared deeply for the woman she had fought this hard to save.  Despite her words to NIGHT and every effort to drag her into this convoluted mess, it became clear that she was incapable to sorting out the paradox of her existence and desires.

Over it all, two green crystals spun, one threatening the life of the other.  And in NIGHT's hands, a choice.

[NIGHT 0]

and if she'd stopped, it was to hold the rush of adrenaline, hold fire on instincts. hold, hold, hold. time was likely thinking against her, despite her patience, although night had to wonder if either by the lantern had managed to even see her.

if luck was on her side, between the panic-induced rage of the assassin and the haze of wishful thinking from melody herself, she might've been able to wander in uncaught. of course, that was a risk she wasn't so willing to take, especially with lives on the line.

but a single good strike was all she needed; a good strike, and a blade as her medium. with the most recent update to cardinal, night had to wonder how much that trick up her sleeve would do for her in such a scenario. the stun would cover a wide berth, if she would let it go off.

so that was her initial thought. the other was to wonder if the lack of casualties was possible here. she'd only heard of duels where each participant's health bar inched towards the single digit mark. only caught wind of rumors that mischiefs could take advantage of players sleeping out in the city, their body still capable of interacting with the system while their minds were still asleep.

did she have a plan? as cobbled together as it was, night had to try. her eyes were on the captor and her victim while her fingers made quick work of the systems. a shortcut. the devil would be in the details; how fast she would take to react if she could steal melody away from the threat before her.

"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."

her eyes darted to the silhouette of her ally. then, holding her breath, she struck.

---

| permission to use [CS] metamorphoses for [SA: tempest] against (assassin, melody)?

[Plot Master 0]

Years of practice paid dividends as NIGHT's Cardinal-assigned form fell into line and obeyed carefully honed reflexes, executing her will with optimal efficiency.  Orgoth's Legacy flared with righteous indignation, parting the rain and very clouds alike.  Its swing summoned rays of inner starlight to bear, if only for an instant.  Metal met simulated flesh and cleaved clear through the hostage taker's chest leaving a long linear gash with such force that her target impacted the far wall, leaving her imprint in the stone.  Time slowed as NIGHT absorbed the consequences of her action.  The urge to look up followed, but so did her sword towards Melody's sullen head, desperately eager to receive the blow.  Lips parted to grant a silent gasp of hope as tribute to her savior, yearning for release.

Euphoria drowned in disorientation.  Melody's mouth opened wider as her eyes grew to match.  Oblivion suffered interference, all set to the tune of thunderstorms in bullet time.  A second Melody obscured the first by interposing unhinged fury.  She couldn't let go.  One hand snatched the cosmic blade, stopping it dead, while she lunged and something small and thin pierced NIGHT's side.  Had a star fallen loose?  Looking down, a stray thought intruded: death by cutlery?!  After everything else she had endured?  Damn.

The gemini's sanity had cracked like an egg, scrambled and turned roiling rotten black with madness.  Perhaps Cardinal's stability protocols didn't apply to its own minions?  Maybe this was the true cost of the Shadowed Path?  Now wasn't the time to worry about it.  The puncture struck hard enough to knock the wind out of her and send her sailing through the air backwards into the storm.  Landing on her backside, she bounced then sprawled in an awkward tumble that separated her from her blade and splattered every inch of her in slimy muck.  A trails of pixels shone between her and this hut of broken dreams.

Twin red eyes beamed murderously in the darkness.  Faint sloppy footfalls marked False Melody's approach.  Following the trail revealed drops of digital blood still dripping from her injury.  She'd fallen prey to her own specialty.  Pixels spilled in a stead stream from her injury and warnings that had first appeared in yellow quickly changed to red.

***

NIGHT receives an orange marker for the balance of this thread. 
Infraction: Attacking a green player outside of an authorized combat.

[NIGHT 0]

to pick herself up from the dirt. to attempt and re-summon her one remaining tidbit of light, that blade -- and then some, as she pulled out a glowing orb and crushed it in between her fingers. imugi's inspiration; the shatter was nothing more than familiar -- that trickle of stardust almost an insulting mimicry of a loss of life, if her strike had made it through to its victim. night hadn't intended on murder, no, and despite her injuries nor the state of her cursor, there was a smile; almost mockery on her face.

she'd separated them, at least. wasn't that what they'd wanted?

at least, the player mused stumbling in her rise, that they had been right behind melody as told. that was the most important thing by far, in this moment. night could always heal up in her own manner.

(--but damn, if that pulsing of her health in the danger zone wasn't annoying.)

"well?" the woman was faltering as she rose. though pain wasn't something she could fully register in aincrad, it didn't change the fact that she was still worried about the poisons applied to her. a shake of her hand flicked the grime off her wrist, and she wiped her lips with it clean. "is she safe, at least?"

"-- i think you left someone in there," night followed up, concerned, fishing out another healing crystal from her inventory.

---

| using one of these to heal up. | [#173992-3] | Imugi's Inspiration | Instant | MASS HP RECOVERY [10%]

[Plot Master 0]

A glimmer of recognition flickered behind False Melody's mask, wracked by instinct and anguish, and bent on murder as the only outlet she could fathom.  It was their nature to kill that which they imitated, yet this one had reversed its polarity.  Conflict between wants and needs revealed: paradox and tragedy coexisting in the moment.  The invulnerable was made into its opposite with the sound of a subtle gasp.  The last drawn breath of a player's broken soul shattering in the background.   Release from purgatory to oblivion achieved, at long last.  

The gemini fell to its knees, limbs struck numb by purpose denied and achieved.  Back to the source she would go, to be repurposed and reincarnated, leaving all she had become behind, but with it all the pain and sorrow.  Red eyes faded back to blue, her terminator instincts disengaging in her final moments and defeat.  Longing, denied.  Life, denied.  Fulfillment, denied.

"Melody," she managed to eek, though only barely.  Porcelain hands rising to caress the memory of a face that was already gone.  "I loved..."

The knife she wielded for her slayings fell to the ground, the tip slipping straight into the mud and leaving the rest of it standing upright.  It was the closest thing to a grave stone that its victims would ever get, their echoes as absence around the spot where NIGHT stood, otherwise meaning nothing to anyone.  So would it be with both of the Melodies, their songs having been summoned only to die, or so it seemed.

Another form, sneering a grin of victory, rose in the ruins beyond.  The last remnants of the gash on its chest closing as the last vestiges of a maid's outfit faded to nothing where her blade remained thrust.  Glaring orange spinning overhead, a price gladly paid for her prize.  Only one last loose end remained: to close out the NIGHT.

***

NPC uses Vanish.

 

Edited February 26, 2022 by Plot Master

[NIGHT 0]

when reds faded to blue, that's when she registered the gravity of the situation. watched the shell of what was left of 'forever' slump to the ground, as full force shattered the other crystal in her hand, half conscious. rushed steps over to the gemini's side. enough to peer into the darkness, just to catch the last traces of fading light from the world. nothing else.

looking over her shoulder back to false melody's crumpled form was the last thing night had wanted to wish for in this scenario. yet, worst dreams were made a reality where she stood, and a part of her wondered just the same if that strike against her had meant to be intentional. she was still healing from the wounds, the grievances. likewise, she wondered if the construct on the floor ever would from her own.

the plans she'd made had to fall between the cracks. paper thin.

night felt the blade fast in her hand. gravitas was all she could afford. her eyes searched the vicinity for the singular remainder, throat dry -- for she had nothing else to give. for she had nothing else to return.

---

| searching for npc.
| ID204268 | ld2 + 4 = 6 | i'm guessing only stealth detection (searching) applies.

[Plot Master 0]

An arm wrapped tight around her neck to pull her back, just as her assassin plunged the blade against the momentum for greater effect.  Had she not taken steps to heal herself, these wounds might have been fatal.  But NIGHT was made of sterner stuff.  Flush with a sense of power at having survived to claim her prize, despite the odds, the victor thought to rid herself of the only remaining witness with a swift demonstration.  It didn't work.  Even with advantages, in any MMO, the numbers still govern.  This whelp was no match for the track suit, let alone the woman wearing it.  Something about eyes and the comparative size of stomachs applied.  Though injured and registering the effects of additional lingering effects in her HUD, NIGHT was far from crippled.  Had paralysis been in the mix, the tables might have been turned.  Fortunately, this woman was less well prepared.  

A swift twist and drive with the pommel staggered her assailant, forcing her to remove her blade and stumble a few steps while she gasped for breath.  In a straight one on one fight, this battle was already won.  The only question that remained was: how would she end it?

[NIGHT 0]

she wouldn't feel it now. the pierce of that metal through her, deep in her skin. she wouldn't see it, wouldn't register it until later, in the crevices of her room, partway through dawn, when the edges of her confines were nothing more than creeping darkness. when the scars would burn once wood touched them.

instead, night just shrugged it off. assassin wrangled off, the player just stared.

in another time, another place, perhaps she would've moved. pinned the stranger down, straddled them unable to move, blade to their necks -- "was this what you'd wanted?" -- just to take the road less travelled by. in another time, another place, she would've beaten them down alive; bare-fisted, instinctual, like a religious ritual. like a generational curse inherited from the past.

in another time, another place, the system wouldn't have taken hold of construct instincts. wouldn't have denied the possibility of help from someone like themselves. night wouldn't have found herself alone at the end of the journey.

between the gash from her side and the enforcement of immobility upon the victim of a player, which one was the move that spelled her mission's certain failure?

she didn't know. there were no right answers to this equation.

so night stared. hollow. from the moment she stepped another person's world's colliding into hers she'd just wanted to go home. knowing someone's 'forever' crumbled in front of her was devastating. likewise, it begged her to reconsider what 'forever' meant.

likewise, she needed to know her aide was okay.

she stared. heavy was the weight that sat in her mouth, and it would continue to stay, time and time again. misery made a home out of the burden of the player; the weight on her shoulders, the mass on the flat of her tongue. time passed slowly in the seconds of silence. and finally, with a shift and a hardened glare and a foot put forward, night decided she had enough.

her warning to the nameless was thus:

"don't come back."

[Plot Master 0]

A face that faded like a Cheshire cat, grinning wide and predatory in mien.  Her assailant gave no words or promises. The deal was left undone as she stepped back to be swallowed by the rain.  A flash of white lightning, seconds later, revealed nothing but the crackle of thunder and tingle of static in charged air.  The place felt of murder and loss and sorrowful tragedy.  It felt wrong, tainted by envy and futility that had cost too many lives, and at least one that might have been.  A hug was desperately needed, but none remained to give or receive it, save NIGHT alone, and her insides were churned to tiredness.  

Distant bells tolled from the starting city.  Four strikes, then a half that fell short.  The rain stopped, as if signaling the end of an ordeal, or perhaps the beginnings of another.  Who could say? 

No happy endings await the weary who have chosen to travel, by fate or fortune, along The Shadowed Path.

***

Thread Summary:

11553 words / 30 = 385*5= 1925*Tier

NIGHT receives:

17325 EXP (Word Count [1925*9])
2998 col (400 [1 page] + 2598 [Laurel, +15% of EXP as col])

NIGHT's orange marker fades at the end of the thread.  Infraction remains on record.

Freyd receives staff reward:

19250 EXP (Word Count [1925*10] - as of July 2, 2021)

Edited February 28, 2022 by Plot Master