[SP-F1] Set your soul on fire

[Alkor 0]

Aincrad was a lonely place. Trapped as they were, the Players could interact with one another, but no touch shared between them could be considered "real." Not in anything but their minds. They could not hear the voices of their loved ones or feel the tears that were shed in their absence, and they could not know the fates of those who were beyond the immaterial barrier, just out of reach. For Alkor, the anxiety associated with the possible imminent loss of his grandmother drove him to the brink time and again. It was his unseen battle, something that went far beyond the conflict that he outwardly manifested. Now he sat on the edge of the first floor, staring into the abyss of clouds that called his name faintly, each time he wondered if a single leap would reunite him with that woman. 

His fingers tapped against the dirt beneath him like keys on a piano, playing a maddening rhythm that reflected the staccato of his heart. Each time he came close to a decision, the people who he would leave behind surged back into his thoughts. The friends he'd made- whether or not he would meet them again on the other side- those interactions were real. Even if their flesh was not. His palms dug at the grass each time, penitent. He'd made promises to people who he had never met, who he hardly knew, to stay alive. It was those bonds that kept him here, fighting a battle he constantly felt he was losing.

"You're thinking about jumping, aren't you?" the voice did not startle him as much as it should have. People came to this edge frequently, and more than often, those people jumped. "I know when people are thinking about it. You're not the first one I've seen."

Alkor grunted indifferently. "How many have you convinced to stop?"

"It's not my job to stop anyone," the woman walked to his side and smiled down at him. Alkor did not look up. "May I sit?"

"Go ahead," he gestured dismissively, a flick of his wrist.

"I've seen a few of them jump," she continued as she took the spot next to him, but not too uncomfortably close. Alkor watched the clouds float past below, oblivious to the plight of their world. "It's not all that scary. Maybe a few seconds of terror, then nothing." His gaze moved up to study the woman. Her hair was long and dark, and her eyes were blue like the sea, deep, thoughtful, and distant. She looked to him and her smile returned. "I'll watch you too, if you like," she offered, not unkindly. "It's always sad, but then- no one should die alone."

Those words stung him like a slap to the face.

"You're a weird one, aren't you?" he asked. "Who does that? Who asks someone if they want an audience for their suicide?"

"This isn't the world we're from," she shrugged. "The old rules don't apply here. What qualifies as kindness is different. If you had the chance to be with a loved one or a pet when their time came, wouldn't you want to be there?"

He started to speak, but thought better of it. There were words that were too complicated to speak, and they died in his throat. "...I guess I would," he managed to respond. "But no, I don't plan to die today."

"No one does," she folded her hands delicately. "Before you ask, no, I'm not going to tell you my name. And I don't want to know yours, either." Alkor blinked as she spoke those words. "I think the anonymity is better for things like this. Secrets shared between strangers. You know? I can't tell anyone you know that I saw you- here."

"And I can't tell people that you watch people kill themselves. Quid pro quo, huh?" 

"Hmmm... is that it, I wonder?" she placed a finger to her lips, thoughtful, then smiled playfully at him. "No, it's because what I see right now is a corpse. One that doesn't have any life in it. Someone who doesn't want to fight. I don't want to know another name that's just going to end up on the monument."

Alkor blinked at her incredulously. "You said I'm the strange one," she chuckled, "but you're not saying anything to deny what I've said. I think that makes you much stranger than me."

Spoiler

Level 32 // Paragon 35

820/820 HP  116/116 EN

23 Base Damage 30 Mitigation

5 Accuracy 3 Evasion 

32 Blight Damage (20 Mitigation loss for duration) 

48 Bleed Damage

Paralyze

42 Battle Healing 

Survival (10% increase to healing effects applied)

Unlocked Paragon Rewards:

Lv. 5 | Gain additional col equivalent to 10% of EXP earned in that thread.

Lv. 10 | +1 LD to looting

Equipment:

Witchfang : Tier 4 Demonic One Handed Straight Sword // CURSED / BLIGHT / BLEED / PARALYZE

"Forged from the fang of a Black Dragon, this blade promises ruin to those who are struck by it. The blade's edge is fashioned of Obsidian andinvested with a myriad of afflictions."

Cloak of the Wanderer : Tierless Perfect Light Armor // EVASION / EVASION / EVASION

 "Tattered from the wear of many battles, this cloak was once worn by a warrior who faced the trials of the Castle and through the flames found the strength to walk again."

Eye of Osiris : Tierless Perfect Accessory // ACCURACY / ACCURACY / ACCURACY

"A pin fashioned in the style of Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, depicting the eye of the god Osiris."

Skills, Mods, Addons:

<<One Handed Straight Sword>> rank 5
<<One Handed Straight Sword>> Ferocity Addon  
Stamina Addon 
Precision Addon 

<<Light Armor>> rank 5 
Meticulous Mod
Resolve Mod

<<Battle Healing>> rank 5
Emergency Recovery Mod 
Energist

Combat Mastery: Damage   
ST Specialist Combat Shift 

Charge 
Parry

Extra Skill: Survival

Spoiler

 

Edited April 16, 2022 by Alkor

[Alkor 0]

Theme

"Have you ever thought its because the things you say are twisted and difficult to respond to?" he huffed and looked away from her, back toward oblivion. "You tell me that I'm basically a dead man walking and expect me to have a good and easy answer ready for you. Who does that?"

"For a normal person, the easy answer would be to deny it, not argue with it and get defensive," she mused. There was a certain delight in the way she smiled at him. "You're not like the others, though. Not like the ones who jumped, I mean. There's something that makes you hold on. There's a reason that you fight, even if it isn't for yourself. I think that makes you much more interesting than they were."

He shot her a venomous glance. "It's shitty to speak ill of the dead," he warned her, "even if I didn't know them, I can still get angry for them."

"My, my," her smile thinned and she looked at him from behind her hand, her eyes darker than before, more mysterious. "And here I was, unsure whether or not there was any fire in you at all. It seems I owe you an apology."

"Apologize to the people who you let jump," he snorted indignantly. "Not your responsibility, is it? That's just indolent." 

"Careful, corpse," her voice sharpened slightly, "you're not the only one who can get angry."

"You want to get mad at me for saying you could have done more?" he turned and jabbed a finger into her chest suddenly, pressing. "Where's the lie? What's wrong with telling someone who chose to not save a life when they had the opportunity that they did-"

"What if they didn't want to be saved?" she asked, unblinking. "You're so busy worrying about what you think is right, about the things you are passionate about, that you let that fire consume the struggles of others. There's comfort, sometimes, in death. What of people who are suffering? People who have lived long lives, and now can no longer recall the joys that they knew along that long road? What gives you the right to determine what gives their lives meaning?"

"Don't you talk to me about meaning," he exploded. "Don't you fucking dare tell me about people who can't recall joy, what do you know about it!?" Her words struck him even deeper than before. He could feel the ache in his heart as she reached up and cupped his face.

"Ah, there it is," she said in a hushed voice. "The anger. The despair of a lost child."

His hand moved on its own, and he struck her, open handed across the face. "Don't you patronize me," Alkor hissed.

"My apologies, I went too far," she sighed. "But I wanted to talk to you. The real you. Someone who can get angry. Someone I can tell feels something."

"Yeah, well," Alkor gnawed on his lip for a moment. "I'm sorry. I should not have hit you. That was wrong of me."

She shook her head. "No, no," she reached out and took his hand. "I don't think either of us is wrong for feeling anything," she emphasized that point, "but I do think we are wrong when we diminish the feelings of others with our own. Does that make sense?" He nodded. Recently, he had a conversation with Lessa about her feelings, and how at times, his own got in the way of her being herself; and the same was true in reverse. He gave a quiet nod.

Edited April 16, 2022 by Alkor

[Alkor 0]

"Is that why you let them die?" he asked quietly, not breaking eye contact.

"Yes," she answered, her smile much softer, and perhaps sadder than before. He could not tell. "Because their feelings matter. Because they are allowed to lose all hope, and to give up, if that is the answer that they found themselves. Life is like that. Not everyone comes to the same conclusion, but every conclusion is valid. Even if we don't agree with it."

She was sad, Alkor realized. Every death she'd watched, this woman had likely wanted to stop. She wept for people who she barely knew, some who she only met in the fleeting moments before the fall. The knot in his chest wound tighter than before. "But they can never- that is, what I mean is, if they're dead, they won't ever have a chance-"

"They don't want one," she placed a finger to his lips. "Not everyone has that kind of fortitude. Not everyone has the strength to live." At that, he was speechless. So many others in Aincrad were passionate, vehement even that living was the most important thing that a Player could do. This woman was the first to say anything to the contrary, and the first to validate the feelings of those who threw away their lives. "But you do," she changed the subject and shifted the conversation to the most painful thing possible. "I wasn't sure, at first. That was why I offered to be there for you, if it was the end."

"And you would have cried for me," he said. It was not a question.

"LIke I have for all the others," she confirmed.

"How do you carry that weight by yourself?" he asked.

"The same way that you carry whatever guilt keeps you from jumping," she said. That same, tragic smile remained. "Because no one else can. No one else will. And that makes it my responsibility."

He was in awe of the woman who he had never met, who's name he did not know. Without being asked, she had seamlessly recognized his fault and accepted it. "Responsibility," he repeated the word. It was something that had been beaten into him as a child, mentally and emotionally, to the point where he could do nothing but understand. Responsibility was the mortar that held together every foundation. "...yeah, I think I understand that," he muttered, barely a whisper.

"I'll give you a tip, since I like you," she said with a wink. Alkor blinked. "There's a social club in the Town of Beginnings. Kind of a place for people to go and relax, its designed to serve a purpose that the team thought Aincrad was sorely in need of. Its called the Halfmoon Hideaway, and a large portion of it is escorts for men and women who don't have an emotional connection or feel deprived of physical warmth. They serve tea, but food service isn't really part of the operation."

Alkor blinked. "You think I'm starved for affection?" she laughed at that question. 

"Maybe," she teased. "but, its where you're going to find me if you want to learn my name." She reached out and gave him a pat on the head, which he swatted quickly away. "And I'll admit, I'm kind of interested in what you'll decide. So I'm taking a big risk here." The woman pushed her lip out slightly and pouted.

"Yeah, I'll keep it in mind," he waved her off. "What made you come over here in the first place?" he asked.

"Maybe its the fact that I have a keen eye for lonely people," she shrugged, "or maybe, I'm just tired of coming here and only meeting people who jump."

[Alkor 0]

He was alone for some time after that, watching the horizon with a million new questions racing through his mind. The sun dipped behind graying clouds as it burned a deeper orange and cast his long shadow back toward civilization, where his thoughts drew him back unbidden. "Why would I even care about her name?" he asked as if expecting an answer. "She came up to me out of nowhere and talked down to me like I was some kind of potential jumper on top of a building." The more he threw his contempt at the thoughts as he collected them, the more that they burned. Or was it that they stung? Everything she said in the moment had been a dagger, driving toward some deep, unspoken weakness that he kept cloistered away and out of view. "If anything, I just want to know who I'm cussing out. Yeah, that's it. I need to have a target for all this anger."

And for a moment, that feeling was good. The focused rage exhilarated him, precisely until the moment when it burned out. There was nothing beneath the surface to catch fire, and so, there was nothing more to burn. Alkor was left alone with the realization that he was not angry at the woman. His eyes flickered one way, then the other, and his face started to heat up. "...fuck this." He threw up his hands, not so much in defeat as frustration.

The trek into Town was long and filled with grunts and growls as the swordsman clenched and relaxed his fist over and over. He wanted to hit something.

"Woah there," an NPC held up his hands as Alkor barreled through him, completely oblivious to the world around him. Everything that wasn't his destination didn't occur to him. The hand on his shoulder called him back from the red abyss that swallowed his vision, and the young man waved his hand to catch the Player's attention. "You need to watch where you're going, man," the boy warned. "You might have run into something worse than me if you weren't paying attention. Lucky break this time, though."

Alkor fixed his gaze on the younger man pointedly. Was there a reason for this? Had the game randomly selected him for an event? Was Cardinal toying with him based on his emotions? "You could say you're sorry, at least," the youth joked, laughing off the intensity of Alkor's stare. "Not that I need an apology mind, but man, you seem really worked up."

"Picked a bad day for this conversation," Alkor managed to murmur.

"Yeah, well, no day's all that great for getting run over by an adventurer," the youth retorted. Suddenly, Alkor realized his error. More of the same. So entranced by his own anger, he failed to empathize with the plight of those around him. After a lengthy sigh, he hung his head.

"... yeah, you're right," he admitted, "my bad."