[F2-PP] Sandwich

[Abelith 0]

Flora was just as much of a boring smattering of unimpressive faces, the woman swaying a bit as she dismisses most of her surroundings. A grumble in her stomach, "Fuckin, shut up." she squeals rubbing the thing. Aincrad, and the beautiful feeling of being annoyed by human problems. Just like reality, she had a habit of forgetting about simple things like eating. Scanning signs, shapely icons that could use some serious design changes. Picking one out simply at happenstance, the first that alluded to food. Finding her way into a quaint building, a rattling bell making a man sporting gold glasses staring back at her. Right to a table, she offloads a sketchbook and a small bag of coin. A menu brought to her, she just points to something at random. What it was, wasn't important, as long as it quieted a gerbil she'd swallowed.

"I'll have this."

The guy ushers off, and she can hear a pyre light somewhere in the distance. A sharp of lead starts to drag hastily across the page, twisting as she continues to slide it flat against the paper. The woman was drawing some chick she'd seen a few days ago on floor 6. Biting her lower lip, and pushing her thighs together. She was really getting into it.

Abelith | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 6

Spoiler

Abelith, Seeker of the Eastern Star
Level: 1
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 20/20
EN: 20/20

Stats:
Damage: 6

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Rosalie Abre - [T1/Rare/Whip] Damage 2
Armor:
Misc:

Skills:
Whip R1

Battle Ready Inventory:
Starter Healing Potions (Heals 50 HP) x3

 

[Monarch 0]

After Monarch had left that cave, he spent days walking through the fields. He had tried sleeping but couldn’t quite settle his thoughts. ”Such a drag.” He would say to himself, stepping back into the town and looking around. Maybe he needed some coffee, that always helped.

Walking through the streets, the kid’s tired eyes swayed from sign to sign. All of his usual spots were packed to the brim, so he would continue on. The other players around him would spend their time socializing with those they cared about, but Monarch didn’t really have anybody. Whatever, he preferred to have time to himself. Can’t people watch with someone distracting you, so he learned to cut people off.

His eyes landed on a player, a woman who was holding her stomach. The growl really held the boy’s attention as he squints. It’s not uncommon for people to skip a meal, but hearing a stomach rumble is rare. Especially in town, where it’s nothing but shops and restaurants. Stepping to the side to let someone pass, the boy would walk into the same store the woman did, perhaps she knew this place had good food, and the kid would find his own booth. One not too far from the woman’s, but not too close.

For all he knew, she could be annoying.

Monarch:

120/120 HP | 30 EN | 6 DMG | 4 Stealth

[Bismuth 0]

Bismuth sat behind the counter of his small tavern, one of his large journal's spread out on the surface in front of him, and a vase full of oddly shaped and colored flowers beside it, the scratch of his charcoal pencil being all that could be heard through his bistro. He had decided to bring his work downstairs for the day, he had been cooped up in his small room upstairs for days, and the change of scenery was a nice one, he had been cataloguing the materials that he had gathered in Nemo's dungeon, and it had been a long process so far. Bismuth's work was cut short when he heard the telltale sign of someone entering his shop, a small bell that goes off when someone opens the door. Following soon after that Bell Bismuth watched a vibrant haired woman, barely older then himself wearing a yukata, which was nice, because Bismuth himself was Japanese. Smiling with his tired eyes Bismuth stood as the woman entered "Hello, welcome to the Bistro" walking around the counter, Bismuth was now in full view of his patron who had chosen a seat at random, Looking up she would see a tall man with long somewhat curled hair pulled back in a ponytail with a small goatee, a pair of tired green eyes hidden behind round golden glasses that contrasted the outfit he was wearing which could only be described as a pirate. Bismuth wore a billowing collared white shirt that tucked into his black pants, sporting a low v neck that could be fastened by a set of laces, fastened to his back Bismuth wore a cape that curved around to cover his right side where it was clear a sword hung, the cape was held in place by a cord that wrapped diagonally across Bismuth's chest and was covered in gold embroidery and topped with a layer of fur on top. A red sash with gold embroidering was tied around his waist and hung down his right leg. Simple black pants tucked into knee high black boots. The most out of place part was the set of buckles attached to his left thigh, clearly designed to hold something securely in place, but was currently empty.

Bismuth made his way to the lady as another person walked in, this one a teenager who looked like he couldn't care less about anything in here, sitting down at a table as far from other people as possible. "I'll be right with you sir." handing the lady a menu she seemingly chose something at random before opening her sketchbook and getting to work on something. Turning away Bismuth made his way to the other person in his little restaurant, he was wearing what seemed like a school outfit, which was very different from his own. "Hey, what can I get for you?" Bismuth asked looking down at the bored man sitting below him, matching his bored look with one of extreme exhaustion, and holding out a menu.

[Abelith 0]

A hustle continues as she drags that bar of lead across the page, contorting it from a sharp point to a more flattened use for shading. A slight gasp, escapes her lips as she places it down. "Finished..." and the woman seemed almost limp as she leaned back in the chair she'd found herself into. Revealing a portrait of some undefined girl. The spark of creativity, mixed with some interesting memory, having been quelled for the moment. Her legs grow lax, as she scoots forward. Sizing up the dude she'd paid her order to, and the guy he was undoubtably helping, all the same. Staring out at the writhing masses that begin to peel past the window pane's, just a whole load of assholes trapped in a rat race. Another grumble in her stomach, and immediately her elation flounders. "At least I can die happy." Lifting a leg and draping it over the other, fanning her face with her left hand. She'd much rather be out on the town than trapped in a building, and the temperature in here wasn't giving her any relief to a sudden rise in her own.

Edited March 7, 2022 by Abelith

[Monarch 0]

After the boy sat down, he pulled out his journal and opened to a fresh page. He wanted to know why that woman held his attention for so long, despite every sign pointing to her being nothing but a pain to talk to. His finger would spin his pencil as he leaned in really close to the page and started outlining the drawing. Silhouettes of players walking through a blank town, just the outlines of buildings. In the dead center, the woman was placed, carefully drawn in full detail, looking like she was searching for something important up in the sky. As the drawing took its form, Monarch couldn’t help but feel frustrated, like it wasn’t quite right. He erased the eyes, trying to think of how they looked. Maybe they were a little…

Just as he thought he had figured it out, it slipped away once again as the owner of the shop spoke to him. His order? Damn… I just had it too. His hand would come up and push against the side of the table, turning his body to face the woman across the tavern, but half of his face would remain hidden behind his chair. A very sloppy attempt to hide himself considering his stealth skill.

His eyes narrowed, examining every curve of her eyes and making sure to take note of their color, their placement, everything. Hell, he even counted her eyelashes. ”I’ll have a black coffee.” His tired voice would practically fall out of his mouth as he turned back and got into his drawing once more. The eyes would fall into place and immediately the woman would become recognizable based just on the line work. Still though, Yasu had no idea why she had grabbed his attention. Maybe it needs color. His hand would reach out and only one color would come to mind, sakura. His pencil would very sloppily slide across the drawing, very little regard for the shape of the woman, as he colored her in.

By the looks of it, you would think a 4 year old did this, but this one sparked emotion in the boy, like he was saying she radiated a much more free spirit than her shape allowed, so it spilled out into the world in a mess of color.