[PP-F10] The Light Among Shadows (Them, Dustin)

[Dustin 0]

Dustin stood in the dark cavern that enveloped the whole floor, two skeletons stumbling towards the boy as his cloak covered his whole body. ”You know, a Draugr is a bit of a surprise.” He would say, catching the rather dull blade in his hand, pulling it down and kicking the skeleton into a pile of bones before it explodes into those colorful crystals everything in the game seems to be made of. The other undead creature would swipe its blade across the kid’s back as he grasped the slash and turned around. ”Oh, a wasp.” Dustin’s head rears back, throwing the hood off and revealing his mop of light brown hair as his forehead slams into that of the monster who had hit him.

He was victorious.

After letting the weaker players pass through unhurt, Dustin would walk back into town. It was quiet, peaceful. The glow of the natural world around him provided no warmth, but even still he felt fine. Almost entirely comfortable, despite being on a floor he had never been to before. For now though, this whole game was his home, SummerView carried too much pain with it’s emptiness. Dustin’s sadness echoed through his own home, how could he go back now? Tonight he would have to find a tavern to stay in.

Walking into a familiar old shanty, Dustin would wave to his old friend behind the counter. Looking around the room it was obvious that Roger’s customer base wasn’t quite used to him always moving floors. A loud crash of broken weapons and armor would clatter on the bar and onto the floor. ”I need you to get these things fixed and distributed to the lower level players.” Dustin’s voice carried through the tavern, empty and broken. A slow lumber back to the booth he had decided on would be the perfect end to this fruitless pursuit of consolation in an ever shrinking game.

[Them 0]

On her journey to conquer every floor until she caught up with the frontlines, Cleo found herself on the dingiest of them yet. A world utterly consumed by darkness, save for the bioluminescent plantlife seen sparsely throughout, its popularity among players (or therefore lack of) was evident from a single glance around the teleporting platform in Yomi, where more souls of the dead haunted the streets than those of the living graced them. The once-bustling metropolis, reduced to a mere refuge for those unfortunate enough to find themselves wandering through it, had few amenities to offer, which the blue-haired woman discovered as she walked away from the main square.

Darkness embodies the unknown, concealing whatever lies beyond and is, for most, a concept to be feared. Some undoubtedly thrive in it. However, Cleo, who would choose to seek comfort in the company of others and loathes the idea of time spent alone, does not. The idea of going alone into whatever lay in the darkness beyond the safe zone sent a shiver down her spine and brought an air of clarity to her thoughts; 'Nope.'

Rather than risk an ill-fated adventure alone, she figured it best to wind down after a long day and settle in for the night. Passing through the doors into a tavern, she felt it a suitable enough place to gather her thoughts and sort through some things, even if she would have to seek a room for the night elsewhere. She saw few patrons at first glance, beside a man at the bar and a younger lad in a booth to the side.

To appease her need for social interaction, she wandered across to the bar, minding the pile of equipment haphazardly thrown on it and the floor below, and sat on one of the many empty stools, catching the attention of the barman. "Coffee, please, if you have it. Water's fine otherwise." Her voice was tired, drained from a need for sleep, yet kind and straightforward. Leaning into the bartop, she nodded toward the armor and weapons scattered beside them. "What's that all about? Did somebody dump their entire inventory out here?" She hoped to discover why somebody felt the need to deposit items in such a clumsy fashion.

Spoiler

Them
Level 18 | HP 360 | EN 54 | DMG: 16 | MIT: 5 | ACC: 4 | EVA: 0 | LD: 3

Equipment:

Heart's Bane (T2 - Perfect - Dagger) (Bleed 2 / Paralyze 1)
Arrowhead Brooch (Tierless - Perfect - Trinket) (Accuracy 3)
Music Box (T1 - Perfect - Trinket) (Loot Die 3)

Skills:

Dagger R5
> Stamina
> Precision
> Ferocity

Cloth Armor R1

Combat Mastery: Damage R3

Extra Skills:

Meditation
Concentration

 

Edited March 31, 2022 by Them

[Dustin 0]

As Roger set a cup of coffee down in front of Cleo, he would turn to Dustin and point at him. ”Yeah… He did. He’s been giving off old gear he gets from monsters to help the players just starting out. Roger was an experienced player, so keeping secrets was something he knew how to do, but his face definitely showed he was hiding something.

”You’re free to take some if you want, it’s not the best gear, but if you need it you can have it.” Dustin would say, standing up from his seat in his booth and moving over to the bar. ”Even if you don’t need it, you could sell it for a little bit of col. Dustin’s voice would carry very little energy, but based on the way he carried himself it was obvious that was unusual. His movements almost seemed carefree, but his tone was weighed down by something in his past. ”Name’s Dustin, and this here is Roger. He’s been my friend since I started this game.” The kid would say, holding his hand out to shake Cleo’s. ”You do a lot of hunting? I find nothing calms the spirit more than a good battle and an even better story.” Dustin would explain. It was the first new person Dustin had met in a long time that he had no reference on.

Hopefully, this new face would be a friend. The kid already had enough foes.

[Them 0]

Cleo pulled the cup of coffee close as if it were the only source of warmth she'd felt in days. "Hm?" Taking a sip, she swiveled around in her seat to see who Roger was pointing to and learned that it was the same boy she'd seen on her way in, who was beginning to approach the bar. That's one mystery solved, she thought, but the unsteady look in the barkeep's eyes hinted that there was more to the boy's story that he wasn't telling.

Fancying a dagger, Cleo picked up a small one from the pile. The stats weren't impressive but she didn't want to seem rude by declining his offer, and it would probably fetch enough Col pay for the next day's breakfast. "Thank you." Something about the Player threw her off, the apathy in his voice driving her to feel concern for his well-being. Still, he was a stranger, and she kept her guard up for the time being. His question struck her as odd, but not odd enough to deprive him of an answer. "I hunt a lot more these days than I used to. Though, I think I disagree - nothing calms this spirit more than a good cup of coffee." Replying with a quiet laugh, she smiled to both Dustin and Roger, and made a subtle bow. "I'm Cleo, or 'Them' in-game."

Waving a hand at the pile of throw-away equipment, Cleo looked to Dustin. "And I suppose all of this is from hunting, then? Curious, most people would drop this off at a general store and cash in the Col. Why not do the same?" A good question, she figured, as she sipped on the warm beverage.

[Dustin 0]

Dustin visibly took note of Cleo’s name, removing his cloak to reveal a simple blue sweatshirt and khaki cargo pants. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows where they met a very ornate pair of black hand wraps with Gold trim in the shape of Nordic runes. On the back of his right hand lays a golden trace of Mjolnir, Thor’s hammer. His knuckles lined with obsidian shards and his fingers exposed. ”That’s a nice name. Can’t say I’ve ever met a Cleo before. Even in the time I spent in America.” Dustin would pull a stool out and sit next to the player. ”Though if you’d prefer I can call you them. I know some people are protective of their real names.” His eyes would trail down to the stack of gear.

”Not hunting per say. Culling. Some weaker players were looking to go to a dungeon and didn’t want to waste their supplies on the monsters they’d have to fight to get there, so I took care of them. And as for why I bring them here.” Dustin would look Cleo in the eyes if he was able to do so. ”I like giving weaker players gear they can use to get themselves on the right foot. With my blacksmith shop being closed, I figured the best way to do that is give them the drops I can’t use. I’m too high level for any of this junk, so I see no point in selling it. ‘Sides, if they need it so badly and I don’t care about it, I don’t want them to have to spend a hefty sum to get it and I can’t trust any stores to not scalp the price. Roger here knows what would happen if I caught him charging the players who can’t afford it.”

Dustin’s eyes had fallen back to the bar long ago, but he had nothing to stare at but the carving he and his brother made on the bar. ”I grew up hunting, and when my brother was here he’d spend all of his time helping me. He knew nothing made me feel better, despite not being a fan of it himself.” He would wave his hand and a cookie would appear. ”Sorry, I’m rambling. Have a cookie as an apology.”

[Them 0]

"Cleo is fine, thank you." Using pronouns in place of a proper noun was atypical, Cleo knew. She thought it nice Dustin had been willing to use it instead of her real name but as so many knew her by her legal name already, it'd be more trouble than it was worth to navigate Aincrad under two different aliases.

Names aside, after learning of how Dustin acrued so much junk, and how he made it a point to help weaker players who were just starting their adventure, she found herself impressed with his answers. To go through the trouble of using a merhcant as a proxy to distribute the items—especially one with a rare sense of morality such as Roger—meant he didn't do it for the glory or to spread word of his name, but out of a genuine passion for helping others. Perhaps she had misconstrued things entirely but she'd no reason to think otherwise.

"Oh. No, not at all," she replied. "About the rambling, that is. I'll take the cookie." Cleo accepted the snack with frighteningly little hesitation. "If I were just starting out, I'd have found stuff like this useful, so I'm sure your effort isn't going unappreciated by others; especially first-floor folks. It sounds like your brother was quite a noble guy, if he's even anything like you." With a reassuring smile, she snapped the biscuit in half and, after drowning it in coffee, ate it up. She noted the vaguely familiar flavour, quite unlike the real thing, but a satisfying enough imitation.

"If you don't mind me asking... your brother was here with you, in Aincrad? Pardon me for being so forthright, but, how did he pass?" 'Pass' sounded a lot better than 'die', but the question remained the same. For an unspoken reason, she wanted to know more—perhaps more than she ought to know.

 

Edited April 2, 2022 by Them

[Dustin 0]

The player before him spoke kindly, and Dustin couldn’t help but smile to himself. Most of the players worth their salt had a touch of paranoia or a large dose of cynicism, but this player felt different. But as she spoke of his brother the smile disappeared for a moment. ”He was. He found a player claiming to be in need of help, and he stepped forward.” His whole mood would sink down deeper, trying to think of his words carefully.

”If only I knew it was a trap. I had no clue people could be so evil. I tried to help, but I was paralyzed. He would look at Cleo, his eyes full of sorrow. ”I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. It felt like I was abandoning him, so I watched.” The kid would pull a broken blade from a dagger sheath on his back and set it on the table. What was once an ornate black blade with floral golden inlays, was nothing more than a shard of what once was. ”I never met a kid so kind. Have yet to meet anyone so brave. Only person I knew who truly cared for me other than Daria, my in game wife. She uhh… also passed.” As he turned back towards Roger, the tall man set a glass of whiskey down in front of him and walked away.

”After I got revenge, I was gonna retire from all the fighting. We had a place on the third floor, but one day she went adventuring while I was away, she was going to get me a present.”

[Them 0]

'Ah, fuck,' she cursed in thought, learning more than she ought to know about a total stranger's backstory. The sadness in his eyes brought pity to hers, and as he laid the object down on the table, she struggled to ascertain what it could have been. A weapon of sorts, if the handle were any indication. Perhaps it was the murder weapon or the brother's blade? Her curiosity would have to take a backseat as the conversation's narrative would soon begin to spiral, and, quite suddenly, she found herself unsure what to say. As a pundit of small talk and idle chitchat, heavy topics strayed from her social comfort zone—mentions of death included—and she waded through uncharted waters.

"That's a lot. I'm... sorry. That you've lost so many and had to suffer so much, I couldn't even imagine." Grief is the price we pay for love. A rhetoric she'd yet to experience in the game, but one inevitably experienced by those who opened up their hearts to others. To lose a wife and a brother, she couldn't bear to imagine the pain.

She came to an impasse, uncertain of what to say next; whether she should pry deeper into his past or try steer to the conversation onto a brighter, happier course? Some people found the former therapeutic to help them move on from past traumas, but did she truly have the right to try with Dustin? Cleo chose, perhaps incorrectly.

"Your wife, Daria, seems like she was pretty brave, too. Did she... did she make it back, from her adventure?" 

Edited April 3, 2022 by Them

[Dustin 0]

The player froze for a moment, before deciding to dig deeper. Dustin didn’t mind, it honestly felt good to get all of it out, but there were things he couldn’t share with anyone else. ”The item she wanted to get for me was a drop from a monster. I should’ve been there but I was fighting something far stronger and there were other people counting on me. Though, Freyd probably could’ve filled in for me, It wouldn’t feel right turning away from trouble to help someone else.” Honor is a weight we carry, heavy and painful, but it makes us stronger. So the Kid had to live with the hand he had dealt himself.

”So, I’ve been bouncing around trying to help players too weak to help themselves. Other than to feed my slimes, I haven’t been home in months. I spend everyday ferrying players around to their destinations and letting them grow stronger.” Dustin would steel himself with a deep swallow, fixing his hair and looking towards Cleo. ”If you’d ever like help, I might not be the strongest player, Hell, I’m not even great at protecting the people I care about, but I can try to help you. At this point I need to get stronger anyways, can’t go back to the frontlines just yet.” He would remark, trying to change the conversation subtly but leaving it open enough for Cleo to make choices. While he had never fought an actual floor boss, he had at the very least checked out a rumor, and that helps.

”What brings you to a hole in the wall like this place? You probably don’t know Roger’s food well, considering you picked this place.”

[Them 0]

Cleo sensed that the boy had tensed up and realised thereafter she'd pushed too far. Thankfully, he didn't seem to detest her question having given an honest answer, one that surely tore him up inside whenever it came to haunt his thoughts. However, she vowed then and there to drill no further on the matter.

To Dustin's offer of help, she would gladly accept. Some of her strongest friendships within the game had been forged in the flames of hardships. She'd a feeling Dustin would make a useful quest companion, and, if nothing more, a quality friend. As she spoke, Cleo pulled up her friends list and—taking a wild guess at the boy's in-game name—attempted to add a 'Dustin'. "If I'm ever in need of a friend, I'll shoot you a message."

Finishing her coffee, she calmly whispered to Roger, asking if she could have another with a grateful smile.

Then, asked about why she was there in the tavern, Cleo had no issue returning an answer. "Hey, I'm sure the food's not that bad. You know what? Roger, I'll also take... whatever your special is tonight." Why not? She felt brave. "To answer your question," Cleo centered her attention on Dustin. "I came up here to scope out the place, get a feel for what it's like. It's a little too late for an adventure right now so I thought to check out the nearest inn and, well... here we are." Raising her arms for dramatic effect, she glimsed around at the rest of the room. "Hm. It is a little bit vacant, I guess. How come he's set up shop here, anyway? This floor's a little... gloomy, isn't it?"

[Dustin 0]

Dustin smiled as his menu made a distinct chime telling him he had received a friend request. As he clicked the accept button, Cleo ordered Roger’s special for the day, and Dustin chuckled. ”What day is today? Most of the specials are iffy, but one is pretty good.” Dustin would remark as a plate of mashed potatoes with brown gravy, shredded beef and peas would fall in front of the kid. ”So… it’s Friday.” Dustin would point to it and nod at Roger, ordering the same plate. It was just like Roger’s Grandma used to make back in the US. ”Roger learned how to cook from his Grandma, so the specials are all plates she used to make. Although, he never could quite grasp the technique quite as well as she did.”

As Cleo mentioned the vacancy of the business, Dustin looked over at Roger and back to Cleo. ”He has shops on every floor, one through ten. And a few even higher. You see, this man here has a killer battle axe, and he could stomp me into the ground. That is, if he hadn’t retired. This just so happens to be the least bountiful of his investments. The one on floor 3 is quite lively. Dustin would explain, taking a large bite of all of the foods on the plate mixed together. ”Only one I haven’t been to is the one on floor 4.”

Dustin had a weird interest in this player, she was kind, she paid attention to every word he said, and carried the conversation just as well as he did. It felt like a refreshing pace, to talk to someone who wasn’t asking for an escort to the nearest field boss or dungeon. ”You know, we should duel one day. If I’m going to help you, you should see what I’m capable of, and of course… there’s no better way to communicate than through a dance of blades.” The boy’s proposition came through a full mouth and was punctuated by a swallow that seemed so early it was painful. ”Sorry if that seems like a weird request, I just like crossing blades with other players to see how they think, it tells me what they prioritize in a dangerous situation. If you’re not comfortable with that we don’t have to, but I just felt like I should ask. You seem like someone I can trust…”

[Them 0]

She nodded kindly to the bartender-turned-cook when he set down the plate in front of her, marveling at the delicious spread and only half-registering what Dustin had said about somebody's Grandmother. As he explained Roger's intriguing business model, she chowed down on the meal like a dog who'd been starved of food for days, caring little about appearances nor anything other than the simple-yet-satisfying combination of food groups.

"Floor three, huh?" Using her sleeve to wipe away a piece of mash on her cheek, Cleo pushed the plate forward to signal she'd finished. "I'll check it out—must be a reason why it's so popular." Her travels would probably take her down to the third floor anyway; plus, she'd be remiss to pass on another plate of meat and veg. Having eaten little other than pastries, coffee, and bread throughout her time in Aincrad, it'd be an excellent way to cultivate her uncultured taste buds.

"What?" The conversation had gone swimmingly until that point, though she'd be lying if she said that the proposition of a duel wasn't unsettling. A slight shift came to her demeanor, and the easiness she carried diminished. "As in... fight? What happens if one of us runs out of health? Wouldn't we die?" Sorely misinformed about the mechanics of a duel, having not yet bothered to participate or witness one, her uneasiness stemmed from a lack of understanding of how they worked. "I don't think I'd be comfortable with death. Sorry, man."

Edited April 17, 2022 by Them