[F02-PP] Better Late Than Never

[Freyd 0]

Change, they say, is never easy.  Freyd had no idea what that was supposed to mean.  People were weird in the way they clung to things because they were afraid to explore the unfamiliar or unknown.  Yet that was where he stood, himself, staring down at the capped opening to his former home.  It was a well, or meant to look like one, hidden away of yet another forgotten ruin on the edges of Angel's Point.  A lost hole in the corner of a lost floor, where no one would ever have thought to look for him or sought to bother.  The Liminal Blind had been his hideaway for years, pristinely minimal in style and clutter - sterile might have been a better term.  He could could on a single spider-fingered hand how many people had ever seen the interior, including himself.  But those days were gone, as was the Blind.  A smile swept across his hawkish features, the high arch of his slender brows curling outward to ease their usual harshness.  

Hardly the normal measure by which Freyd gauged any action, let alone his own, but things were changing.  He was changing too.  Wandering back out to wander among the bleached limestone ruins, a pang of loss drifted through his heart as he crossed the place where his pond and slime farm had once lain.  It was little more than a sloping meadow now, with wafting humours from beyond the city's walls carrying the same miasmic haze and odour of fungal decay that pervaded all of floor thirteen. Nostalgia failed to sink its teeth in, the lanky man just striding through on his way to the teleportation plaza, sparing only a moment to wave goodbye to Miri and Quaestor as they opened up their shop across the way.  He'd still be back, regardless, the cobbled mess of trays and tables that was Freyd Edges still remaining near the ruin's gatehouse.  

A single word and flash brought him to Urbus's central square, its bustling activity having become much more familiar in recent weeks, and certainly a stark contrast to the sparseness of his former home.  Wandering through back alleys, and stepping through a few shadows to throw off any potential tails, he would eventually reappear on the outskirts of the waterfalls looming over Witherwind Rest.  That same smile, having never once left his lips, was joined with a deep breath and sense of unfamiliar joy as he made his way down from the cliff face to the valley proper.  A handful of natural pathways, cast in the thin grasses by local wildlife, made the trek easy and pleasurable to hike.

"This still feels strange," he admitted aloud, standing only a few dozen feet from the newly minted manse, its rich timbers and soft lines emanating warmth and welcoming that spoke to the true meaning behind his words.  Home had never been a comfort before - within the confines of the floating castle or beyond.  But also good.  Right.  What else have I been missing all these years?

Turning the solid brass handle to the front door, a load was lifted from the Whisper's shoulders as he passed over the threshold.  A cosy welcoming sensation pervaded the place, fully credited to the passions that came so naturally to his partner.  Elora simply exuded a rawness of emotion which he still struggled to understand within himself.  He wanted to, more desperately than he had ever realized.  Placing a hand over the hidden broach kept over his heart at all time - the Shadowed Rose - Freyd sought to capture some semblance of that essence to carry with him.

"Elora?  Are you here?"  He'd left her puttering in her room while he was out, not quite sure what she was up to.  Both had agreed to settle their own chambers before tackling the common areas.  It was fairer to say that he had no idea where to begin when it came to those spaces, never having been one to entertain or dare to actually cook his own meal.  Past attempts had proven to be traumatic, especially for the cookware and ingredients.

***

Freyd | HP: 1160/1160 | EN: 154/154 | DMG: 21 | MIT: 45 | EVA: 4 | ACC: 3 | BH: 63 | LD: 6 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | REC: 8 | V.D.: 127

Note: CS (Shades of the Gemini) is in use.  If any other player objects to this, please state in first post and it will be considered inactive.

Spoiler

Freyd, The Whisper in Shadows
Level: 33
Paragon Level: 129
HP: 1160/1160
EN: 154/154

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 45
Evasion: 4
Accuracy: 3
Battle Healing: 63
Loot Dice: 6
FLN: 16
HLY: 16
REC: 8
V.D.: 127

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Samael's Pride | T4 MA | FLN 2 | HLY 2  
Armor: Black Cowled Traveling Garb | T4 CA | VD 2 | REC 2
Misc: Fight O'er Flight (ACC 2 | EVA 2)

Combat Mastery: Damage R3
Combat Shift: AOE
Familiar Skill: Grappling Familiar
Custom Skill: Shades of the Gemini

Skills:
Martial Arts R5
Battle Healing R5
Cloth Armor R5
Searching R4
Charge
Energist
Quick Change
Extended Mod Limit
Extended Weight Limit
Fighting Spirit
Howl

Active Mods:
Night Vision
Tracking
Athletics
Emergency Recovery
Untraceable
Detect

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Focus
Precision
Nimble
Reveal
Stamina
Focused Howl

Active Extra Skills:
Disguise
Survival
Forgotten King’s Authority
Hiding R2

Inactive Extra Skills:
Meditation
Frozen Hide
Brawler
Photosynthesize

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystals x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+10% HP) x7
T4 Vitality (+16 EN) x7
Crystal of Divine Light (Reusable) x1
Rhino's Horn (Reusable) x1
Hmr.Pk:  Hope's Covenant - Resolve +4 (T4 Demonic Weapon (MA) - AA, Phase, Frostbite, VO x1
EWL: The Thing Behind All Lies (T4 Demonic MA, AA, Blight, Static, Para.Ven (Off))    x1
EWL:  Shadowed Rose (ACC 3 | Para.Imm.) x1

Housing Buffs:
Rested: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat
Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)
Hard Working: +2 EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day
Filling: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot.
Item Stash: +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
Delicious: Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed.
Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
Skylight (Searching): +1 Rank to the Searching skill.
Angler: +2 Fishing EXP per attempt
Practiced Angler: +2 Fishing EXP per attempt, addition +1 LD/CD to fishing attempts
Advanced Training: +10% Exp to a thread. Limit one use per month [1/1]
Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
Decor [Potted Tanabata Bamboo Tree]: This buff affects the player and their choice of up to two party members.

Guild Hall Buffs:
Lucrative: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters receive +1 crafting attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters receive +2 crafting attempts per day.
Col Deposit: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

Scents of the Wild:
Tanos Statue: +25 Mitigation for a thread.

Wedding Ring: n/a

Fishing: Level 5 | 576XP

 

 

Edited April 24 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

A dramatic hand raised to wipe the arch of her brow as Elora stepped back to admire the day's progress. There, she regarded with some sense of accomplishment, All unpacked. The result of her efforts would seem indistinguishable to the average home-owner. In a room sparsely occupied by furniture or decor sat one dilapidated bed accompanied by a neglected dresser. Nested in the corner nearest the window, the set appeared more like a flee market show floor than a young woman's dream interior design. As silent seconds of scrutiny stretched on, Elora gave a disgruntled sigh, So much space... The impression felt bittersweet. What she had only anticipated as a jubilant new beginning was starting to sour from the presence of...something. I'm not used to it, she attempted to rationalize, From living with mom and dad to spawning in the inn...I've only ever lived out of a tiny room. How'em I supposed to spread myself across an entire house... The feat felt intimidating, unearned even. What items did she own, hobbies did she pursue that were even worth taking up space?

"Alright, so --", she ignored her inner criticisms with hands clapping together to ignite the solution. Closet...I have a closet I can put things into. Shuffling across the floorboards, she arrived at the decorative but empty shelving unit. The past few years had found her in possession of many clothes. The kimono, my swimsuit, this one outfit, and that dress I bought in Snowfrost..., she listed as each was purged from her inventory and onto the wooden spool above. There's my potions, all of the herbs I've been collecting, and..., her finger scrolled through a menu of miscellaneous items and trinkets, I have no idea what any of this is, actually.

"Let's just put this here for now", she decided. With a single gesture, all of the shit was whisked away to the darkest chasms of her dresser. "Much better", she determined with a contented spin. It was only through the absence of collision that she realized the room was, just as she had previous arranged it, completely unoccupied.

A pressing thought occurred, eclipsing her intentions of tackling the task at hand. I need to check out the greenhouse., came the nagging reminder. Elora first made a motion toward the door before considering, Can I get there from the window? Curiosity propelled her like a magnet to the ledge, and after a simple interaction, she'd swung one of the panes clear open to serve as an escape. "Perfect!", she cackled mischievously as clumsy limbs hauled her past the weathered frames. It wasn't long before the eager player had settled on the best method of descent. Clearly, a tactfully-situated trellis would be the most ideal for climbing; they made them a good deal sturdier here than they did in real life. Wrapping her hands around a braid of clambering vines, Elora made her way safely down to the field below. I'll remember that shortcut for later., she proudly determined.

Winding cobblestone steps soon lead her to the skeleton of a glorified she-shed. The semi-secluded greenhouse was tucked behind a thicket of overgrown shrubbery, its paned facade facing the mountains to the west. Shaking loose the latch to a small wooden door, she slipped her way into the building. Sunbeams streamed from windows above as a narrow trough of water cast undulating waves of light against the teal walls.

Elora ran a gloved hand along the live edge of an expertly-crafted timber countertop. A series of steady taps at the end of its length proceeded her walk around the perimeter. Where to even start..., she pondered as eyes searched for the would-be homes of imaginary potions and plants. Her legs guided her to a immediate answer with a plop on the floor. Leaning back from that vantage, she allowed the magnitude of the project to disable her, if only momentarily. Maybe I just need to think on it more..., she provided the comfortable excuse.

 

***

Elora | HP: 700/700 | EN: 104/104 | DMG: 21 | MIT: 78 | EVA: 1 | ACC: 5 | BH: 35 | LD: 2 | AA | BLGT: 32 | FLN: 8 | REC: 8 | STK: 40

Spoiler

Elora
Level: 32
Paragon Level: 6
HP: 700/700
EN: 104/104

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 78
Evasion: 1
Accuracy: 5
Battle Healing: 35
Loot Dice: 2
AA
BLGT: 32
FLN: 8
REC: 8
STK: 40

Equipped Gear: Teleportation Crystal x1

Weapon: Essential Verdigris (T4 Dem Polearm | AA | Blgt | FLN | STK)

Armor: Defense Mechanism | T4 Demonic Light Armor | MIT 2, REC 2

Misc: Emerald | T4 Demonic Trinket | ACC III, EVA I 

---

Custom Skill:


Skills:
Polearm R5
Light Armor R5
Battle Healing R5
Charge
Energist
Searching R3

Active Mods:
Meticulous

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Stamina
Precision
Focus
Resolve

Active Extra Skills:
Concentration

Inactive Extra Skills:

Battle Ready Inventory: x1 Teleportation Crystal

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild:

Wedding Ring:

 

Edited July 26 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Peering through the shadowed bowels of a nearby potted fern, the notion that he was somehow invading the thing’s privacy, or hers, never even occurred to him.  Neither did the fact that ferns had no bowels, but they did have shadows, and that was all he really required.  It should have felt odd, he knew, gazing beyond sight in such ways; like standing on the far side of the looking glass to catch glimpses of this world from another. Yet, it never had. Like Takeshi in Simmone’s famed mirror, life felt more natural when viewed from such perspectives.

Hrm.   

Pondering why was never fruitful, save to disturb brief peaceful moments within an ever over-agitated mind.  The truth was 'Shadow', that irksome floor boss whose essence he’d touched during his very first  floor raid. Plunging his life-drinking blade into the flesh of a possessed minotaur legend had seemed a good idea at the time, and it had worked.  Freyd had never fully realized the price he would pay for that gambit, and was still discovering the truth of it. Beyond the marking of arrival to the front lines, the moment had been personally formative, along with many others, including those spent with the elfin-eared woman with whom he now shared a home.  

Our home.

A pang of something from inside set everything intangible tumbling with a warmth and gooey sense of uncertainty.  This was a new frontier for which Freyd had minimal experience. Elora was the expert on these grounds, but he desperately wanted to learn.  In this, she was his teacher, and he had finally come to realize how much that meant to him; how much she meant to him. Feelings don't come with manuals to be decrypted with codes or algorithms. Emotional epiphany had taken a while to process.

“Maybe I need to lay off having only Freya’s honey buns and black, vanilla-scented coffee for breakfast.”  Sure. Only he could possibly confuse the stirring feelings of an ever growing bond between them for indigestion. So naive.  Stray wisps of hair tinged like verdigris, a flit of pointed ear drooped with odd admixtures of self-doubt and resolve, the intoxicating scent of fragile uncertainty molding itself around a core of unfathomable passion. Beautiful.  All were familiar traits amidst a roiling, distorted blur.  Shadows were not precise, nor was any sight granted through their umbral underlayment.  But he knew her instantly in the dark, the memory of a head leaning against his shoulder beneath the boughs, and threats of Valentina's murderous threats, never having been forgotten.  Good times.

“Ah, there your are!”  Slipping with ease through the same viewport of nothingness, making it effortlessly serve as both window and door, it never even occurred to him that she might be enjoying a private moment.  Whispers were just bad with that sort of thing.

“Hey you.” he started chipperly and without warning, probably scaring the pants off her by appearing at her side with only the wafting of vanilla to announce his arrival.  “Are you settling in okay?”

Edited April 24 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

A spike of surprised was immediately lapsed by the exhale of relief. "Oh -- hi, Freyd", greeted Elora as her far-too elusive partner materialized from the shadows beside them. I always forget he can do that... "Yeah, it's going -- well?", the response had broken off with unmeditated second-guessing. "I got all my stuff unpacked, now I'm just trying to figure out what to do about this.", she gestured vaguely to everything around them. The undeveloped greenspace served as a scapegoat for, or perhaps more uncomfortably, a visual representation of, her own insecurities. Sure, living at the Hummingbard Inn was a boisterous hell, but it had undoubtedly enabled her to stay mired in her ways. Settling into this new place...it felt like being confronted by her own inability to change. And for as much as she wanted to ignore it, that possibility was no longer an option.

"I don't know where to start.", she plainly admitted, "How do you return to something you've haven't even started?" The question seemed turbulent and oxymoronic in nature, the kind of rhetoric Elora often found her emotions entangled in. Or maybe, it was actually the other way around. "I thought I wanted to be an Alchemist -- I mean, I still do, but I've put off setting up a shop for so long...And that has to mean something...So either I'm lazy or scared, or I'm not really interested --", she hypothesized as a continuation of "or's" rattled off in her mind. Lifting both hands, Elora brushed back her bangs to clamp either side of her temples. "It seems a stupid thing to be complaining about -- this is all I ever wanted." Issuing a confused sigh, she began to unfurl her posture and break from the inner conundrum.

"I completely forgot --", she gasped with a sudden perk to her demeanor, "How're you doing --? Have you been handling the move?" The belated consideration to check up on others was another behavior she struggled to override. Frequent streams of worry and distraction had a tendency to tow her away by surprise, making it difficult to suspend the ensuing ramblings in favor of conversational etiquette. She was relieved to have Freyd's understanding in that. No matter how caught up she became in action or emotion, he remained there. Nodding, listening, caring. In a lot of ways, she didn't deserve him -- No, he would be disappointed in her for thinking like that.

Reaching out, she quietly took his hand in her's. Whatever this next journey was, she wanted to take it with him. Tailspins and all. 

[Freyd 0]

Smiling and listening attentively as she recounted her day's activities, something glimmered silently at her from behind the blueness in his eyes.  His cowl sat loosely resting upon his shoulders, the shield it represented equally lowered in a rare and deliberate moment of vulnerable exposure.  Only with her.  No one else had ever  truly reached so deep into his core, nor convinced him that there was someone in there worth finding... and rescuing.  Could that be the magic that had led them here, together?  Reflections glanced his way in the nearby window.  She is my opposite, staring back at me from the far side of the looking glass.

"I don't know where to start. How do you return to something you've haven't even started?"

There it was again, always present just below the surface.  Where he clung to the slightest semblance of fleeting feelings, hers ebbed and flowed like a tide, ever threatening to overwhelm.  

"I have no idea."  A plain admission and also honest truth delivered with mild chuckling.  "This is just as new to me, too. Think of how sparse and sterile my old place was. I haven't the slightest clue how to live a life I've never allowed myself."  Chasing off her doubts with smiling eyes and nod to the negative, he chuckled softly at their shared absurdity.  "Don't worry about it.  Just let it be."  Soothing her anxieties as best he could, it thawed his natural chill the moment she took his hand and reminded him of a recent impulse.

"Oh," he added with a growing nervous grin, "I might have scrounged a little something to help get you started.  Call it... inspiration."  Cheeks burning like they'd be lit by Cerberus' breath, a conjured bunch of ruby roses manifested in his hand.  "I found these at the base of the cliffs on my way back, clinging to an outcrop and misted by the spray of the falls.  I... Róisín..."  Words croaked and failed him as a lump caught in his throat, having no idea what he was doing, but hoping it was right.  Is this how it works?  Ugh... I'm probably doing this all wrong.  She'll prick herself on the thorns or something. This is so fucking...

"I'm completely lost," he blurted out, deepening his blush to nearly purple.  It wasn't like Freyd to be so far beyond his calm and calculating self.   Nyahhh... so embarrassing. 

"I feel... exactly like I probably should?"  Blinking realization as the words stuttered out in slow staccato.  "Maybe that's the whole point?  Right?  Maybe that's what we both need?  To let whatever happens happen, and accept that neither of us knows what we're doing? We're both going to mess things up - and that's okay.  Let's just promise that we will both try and keep trying, always."

Swallowing the lump as best he could and depositing the flowers in a nearby vase with his spare hand, only then did it become obvious how clammy his palms had become.

"Maybe... maybe starting with something small, and simple would be best?  Have you... uh... eaten?"

Edited April 25 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

Elora's ears flicked upwards as her eyes ignited with unbridled excitement. "The wild roses!", she shouted with arms shooting forward to accept the gift, "I've been keeping my eye on them and waiting for them to bloom--" A chain of memories too long to recount was quickly curtailed as she shoved her entire face into the heart of the bouquet. With one comically large inhale, she drew in her breath to savor the sweetness of their scent. If she were a cartoon character, the buds would likely be shooting out of her ears. "One of the few things they managed to get right...", she sighed contentedly. Pulling back from the arrangement revealed a swath of pixelated pettles plastered across her face. Elora seemed none the wiser as she beamed from pointed ear to pointed ear. A brief squeeze of his hand freed Freyd from the inadvertent death grip that had ensued since the start of the escapade.

"I'm completely lost,", he began just likely as his blood had continued to flow, "...We're both going to mess things up - and that's okay.  Let's just promise that we will both try and keep trying, always."

Elora couldn't recall a time where the stoic player had seemed so uncertain. Are we making a mistake by doing this? The brief flash of worry was rapidly bludgeoned back into her subconscious. He feels the same. He's just as uncertain., her mind attempted to reframe the discussion. 

"Maybe starting with something small, and simple would be best?"

"Have you..."  "Yeah! --" "uh...... eaten?"

"Oh -- no -- I heaven't. Eaten.", she frantically corrected. A few blinks stretched over seconds of silence before she suggested, "What should we make? We have a kitchen -- we should make something, right? You know how to cook? I can make -- hash! Boxty too, I'm great at those!" Surely, that was something to be impressed by. 

Edited April 29 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Laughter filled the room as Freyd nearly busted a gut at her suggestion.  It took a while before he could even mouth any words.

"Haine tried to teach me to cook once," he finally eked out between gasps.  "I used a sword art on a bunch of veggies and nearly destroyed half her kitchen."  A cautionary wave of his hand dismissed any notion that he knew the first thing about the valued trade, or that he was making any fun over her suggestions.  "Pre-packaged meals have been the norm for me, for as long as I can recall.  If you say you know how to make these things, then please teach me.  I'll do my best not to nuke our new home while peeling the potatoes."  It was a pure guess, regarding the ingredients, hoping that playing to Irish stereotypes might actually net him a win.  

"Come on," he requested with the gentlest of tugs.  "Show me all these special talents you have hidden away.  I can't wait to learn."  Barely taking a simple step towards the door, Freyd paused and looked Elora in the eyes, his eagerness still bubbling, but shelved for a moment's consideration.  "And, hey, there's never meant to be any pressure here between us. I just really want to spend time doing things like this with you, especially those that matter most to you. I've spent too long being laser-focused on game-related goals since we've been in here.  This is a chance to learn to live a little along the way.  You've taught me how important that can be, but I need your guidance along the way.  I hope that's okay?"

An earnest smile spread over his simple features, their sharp angles slightly dulled by uncharacteristic warmth and exposure to deep reservoirs of sincerity normally kept concealed and off limits to the world.  Don't be afraid, Elora.  I just want to see you shine by being yourself.

[Elora 0]

"YOU WHAT?!", Elora exclaimed, her bouquet nearly splatting into smithereens on the ground.  

"Pre-packaged meals have been the norm for me, for as long as I can recall..."

"They have for me too -- but I haven't tried to use a sword as a COOKING UTENSIL!", she stressed as if saying the words louder would attribute more sense to their application. "You need to learn how to prep properly, good god --" Elora intercepted him, lacing a hand around his arm to tow him up from the floor.

"Show me all these special talents you have hidden away.  I can't wait to learn.", he encouraged in a singsongy way.

"It's not a talent Freyd, it's using the right tool for the job --", she huffed, her mind still struggling to come to terms with the throwaway example. Could he actually find a way to NUKE our kitchen with a potato peeler?? Well I suppose if he uses a goddamn warhead to mash it --

"And, hey, there's never meant to be any pressure here between us...", she sicced her attention back to whatever he was saying, "I just really want to spend time doing things like this with you, especially those that matter most to you..."

"You have no idea what you're getting into --", she jested with a few raps of the roses against his chest, "I'm boring as hell, or I'm out somewhere about to get myself killed. There's no in between." Maybe that second admission was a little too on the nose. "What I mean to say is, I have no idea what I'm doing each day. I don't know why I'm waking up, I don't know when I go to bed. At least your life has a little structure." The two of them entered into the house's ground floor, Elora's feet leading them one direction and then the next as she correctly recalled where the kitchen was situated.

"Now --", she began what felt like a makeshift introduction to televised cooking show, "Boxty is sort of like flapjacks, but a lot less sweet and a lot more savory -- it gets it's flavor and texture from one ingredient." A pause for dramatic effect; Freyd was undoubtedly at the edge of his seat. "Potatoes!", she revealed with out-splayed hands. The still-held bouquet was nearly launched into a projectile as invisible studio members ducked for cover beneath their imaginary seats. "We don't got a need for peelers here, and it's not like we've got leftovers mashed from the night before.", she continued her instruction, "So we'll make some potatoes grated and some potatoes mashed -- you can handle the mashing, I'm sure."

A stack of spuds were thrust into his hands before she'd even finished the sentence. Elora'd always made sure to have some on hand for emergencies like this. "While you're doing that, I'll get all the other shit together", she determined with a resolute nod.

[Freyd 0]

"It's not a talent Freyd, it's using the right tool for the job --",

"...and a tool is only so good as its wielder's skill and devotion," he added, finishing the thought while gratefully accepting her assistance.  Listening as she dissembled and downplayed her own way of living, Freyd simply shook his head dismissively.  "My life has too much structure. Even though I go to lengths to keep it changing, my constant focus on business lends to its predictability.  You would never normally find me doing... this.  Which is precisely why I need to do so."  A strange sense of serenity pervaded Freyd's words as he spoke them, laden with an equal measure of yearning for the unknown.  The spark behind his eyes mirrored her features as they gazed upon Elora with joy.  She'd given him the same thing he had promised to give to others: hope.

"So... boxty is... potato pancakes?"  He had no idea what flapjacks were supposed to be, and so gave it his best guess instead. A handful of spuds were thrust into his arms before any further clarification could be obtained.

"While you're doing that, I'll get all the other shit together."  An eyebrow raised. I really hope she doesn't mean that literally.

A quick tactical analysis determined the optimal angle of attack.  Freyd was about to devastate his first tater when Elora gave him one of those 'you're kidding right' kind of look.  "Oh, right... gotta skin the things first."  A grimace mixed with consternation wrinkled and twisted his features with confusion.  "Don't they have a self-peeling variety?  Seems like a design flaw, at least in this world."  A mental note was already made to scour Aincrad for potential potato monsters that might better fit the bill.

As the last grated traces fell into the bowl provided to him, Freyd eyed the sole remaining spud with a festering sense of mischief.  "Mashed, eh? Seems you might have missed one."  Denying any time for protest, his art had been building since the previous spud met its maker, turning in tiny narrow strips. 

"Here.  Let me help a little." Cupping his hand around the tuber, Freyd focused the energy inward at his palm, momentarily wondering whether microwaves worked on a similar principle.  The results were definitely kin, spraying baked mash in a cone aligned directly with a pair of startled and widening blue eyes.

[Elora 0]

The starchy aftermath grew ever evident against the marooning backdrop of Elora's face. Where Freyd may have expected shrieks, he was instead greeted by an unnerving silence. A prolonged stare would soon reveal subtle tremors that lapsed into uncontrollable shakes from sticky head to splattered toe. Steam may as well have been sizzling off of her skin as Elora made one swift motion to hurl the egg she'd been holding into the kitchen ceiling above. What could have been miscalculated as a stray attack would soon find its way from the rafters onto the head of the wryly player. In a moment's notice, she'd utilized the diversion to dash behind the central island. He's not going to win that easy -- not in my house!, Elora seethed with a fiery determination. As soon as she was under cover, she made an inventory of her surroundings. Flour -- not far from me, milk -- on the opposite side of the counter, oil --, she couldn't waste time yoinking it from her menu.

Using whatever stealth advantage had been afforded to her, she slinked from where she'd hidden back to beside the livingroom wall. The feign had seemed successful. Freyd was no longer standing there. But...was that really a good thing? Ah fuck --, the realization occurred, He's got his sneaky shadow shit, how the hell am'i gonna compete with that? Glancing down to her wrist, she formulated an aid. Borris! Snapping what was essentially the rock golem's skeleton from its conjoining vertebrae caused the little critter to unfurl from her wrist.

"We're going after Freyd.", she whispered to the string of magnetic pebbles. One had to appreciate the speed at which her familiar fashioned his usual headstone into a station for sharpening sequential appendages. "Not like that --", she found it necessary to clarify, "He's somewhere in this house -- I need to get him back for --" A motion to her face would explain enough. Carefully, she peered over the edge of the polished slab. The room was empty, save for a single ominous, oozy trail toward a vague destination.

[Freyd 0]

Well played, Elora.  Well played...

Freyd was still trying to squeegee egg yolk out of his already perpetually messy mop of hair, now stylized with extra body that was tangibly hardening in the open air.  Her response had been more subtle and effective than he'd expected.  Not that she wasn't capable of guile.  He'd seen the play of her lips hinting at the secret monologue within, the sly glances out of corners of her eyes. Elora was no slouch.  And, while not exactly an open book, he'd come to know better than anyone in Aincrad could likely claim.  Time to use that... for the most fun-filled of food-faced revenges.  It. Was. On.

Slinking away while she stalled in the aftermath of her oosporic riposte, the hardest part was not giggling like a madman while he did so.  Intending to circle back around and catch her from behind, his plans were almost instantly dashed by the rumbling thunder cascading his way from around the far corner of the corridor.  It took him a minute.  Borris?!

Spilling and spreading across the floor, finding the rambunctious little golem had been among their first adventures together, as painstaking as it eventually turned out to be pleasant.  They'd spent forever searching the forest for something that Elora just couldn't quite manage to define.  'Because they didn't have a clue what she actually wanted,' he reminded himself, chuckling even while shaking his head. As mental as it might have seemed, it was a good time - probably one of the first few he'd ever experienced.  It also provided them an unexpected chance to just spend time together that might never have occurred if either had actually been required to instigate it.

Grabbing a nearby unattended mop left in the hallway for earlier unfulfilled work, Freyd flung it hard across the hardwood like a loose hockey stick spinning across a rink.  Borris was already making too much racket for the act to give his position away.  Their impact sounded like a herd of bowling balls crashing into a field of migrating marbles, scattering the poor little guy in a dozen different directions.  I'll make it up to him later... uh... somehow.  

Quickly sending Persi back the way he'd come to serve as an added lure, Freyd grabbed the now-lonely mop bucket, still half-full with unused water.  Smearing the stick of butter he'd nabbed across the threshold of the kitchen door, he also dumped his bag of flour into the bucket and deftly propped it atop the slightly open door.  There it would wait, leaning just enough against the frame to come crashing down when jarred by even the slightest motion. 

"GAH!  Borris!  What the...?!" 

Whispers were good at feigning, and current circumstances were highly motivating.  She would have let the little stone terror loose to help find him, so why not give her exactly what she was expecting?  Grinning madly, Freyd turned to hide... and promptly slipped on a wayward bit of golem. Feet skidding out from below and sprawling him out on his back.  High above, the bucket teetered ominously.

Edited May 20 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

A cacophony of cataclysmic proportion clattered out from the nearby common room. Elora barely managed to stifle a scream as the sudden jolt of surprise made her spine rattle from tailbone to the base of her skull. Christ almighty -- is Freyd ok?! , the instinctual worry sparked within her mind.

"GAH!  Borris!  What the...?!", came a convincing cry from just around the corner.

Pangs of anxiety shot through Elora's chest as her mind began to construct the crime scene behind that door. "It started because of breakfast...", she imagined her opening remarks to the court, "...and ended as a bloodbath."  

An immediate step propelled her in his direction. If he was hurt, if he needed help, she needed to --

The sound of a rolling marble pried her mind's eye from the impending spiral. From just below her field of vision, she'd caught sight of a Familiar shadow. A stray appendage of the Borris assembly rapidly tumbled across the foyer. In the opposite. direction. of Freyd's. yelling. Elora's eyes narrowed at the observation. Borris always regroups around the body of his enemies. Why would one part be running away from Freyd?, she paused to consider, Unless...

 "Freeeyd?", she called out with her best recreation of a doting concern, "Are you ok -- I didn't mean to --", Elora thumped the door open with the butt of her spear. A blur from above greeted the crash of a bucket. It's not-quite solid, not-quite liquid contents slushed directly over where she would have entered after him.

"AH - HAH!", she exclaimed only a millisecond before her sole made first contact with its buttery demise. With leg slipping forward, she barreled around the frame with the dexterity of a drunken sailor. Thankfully, the starchy concoction had served an effective clot to the remainder of the lard-stricken surface. Her spear spun like a dowsing rod in search of an entity during the dance of such unsure footing. It was only a matter of time before stability revealed the location of her mischievous provocateur.

[Freyd 0]

Apologetic doom.  How fitting.  As the bucket wobbled precariously overhead, Freyd knew this moment would not end well.  He lacked the kind of luck you need to avoid these situations.  In fact, he seemed a magnet for them.  The thump of a spear's butt accompanies creaking hinge that sang in tune with Elora's lilting charm.

"Freeeyd?  "Are you ok -- I didn't mean to --"

Fate can be set off for a time, but never truly escaped.  Those moments when you can see it hurtling towards you - especially from above - are just the worst.  No avoidance will suffice, and justice had it out for him this round.  And so it was that he laid watching the murky flour-baited vessel he'd set high as his trap topple and spin.  As if in slow motion, its eccentric wobble turned, inevitably spilling its contents all over his startled face.  Even his cowl was in on it.  Traitor.  Coif as captor to its master's mischief, it served as the perfect supple bowl to catch and contain the sticky mass that fell. The bucket itself thunked onto Freyd's face like a giant suction cup before he could even lift a finger to protect himself.

"AH - HAH!"

Elora's exclamation muted by his improvised helm, he couldn't quite tell what his counterpart was up to, nor did he really have the luxury of asking.  Swiping the vat from his head with force, Freyd gasped for breath denied him by the paste seeking to infiltrate his nostrils.  Rolling underfoot, it caught Elora mid-skid and eyes bulging with surprise.  One lard-laden step later, she was airborne, if only momentarily.  Crashing down hard, he unexpectedly cushioned her fall with his midriff, gasp instantly reversing to tumultuous and forceful exhale as the same wind he'd sought to capture fled amidst surprise.  Freyd bucked, folding in half and then falling back hard, rapping his head on the stone floor with a solid crack that added unbaked dough-like tweety-birds clogging up the haze of stars swimming between him and the ceiling.

"Ooof" he barely muttered, lacking breath for anything more, wheezing to recover.  She felt his chest convulsing beneath her, instilling a moment's panic before revealing truth: Freyd was laughing, or desperately trying to, at least.

[Elora 0]

The system's accuracy in recreating real-world excursions was nothing short of astounding. Maybe that was the secret. Something as spontaneous and ridiculous as this seemed like it could only exist in a fairy tail. An especially messy fairy tail. A sludgy cobwebbing of porridge strung between Freyd's cheek and her's as she peeled back from their predicament to assess his vitals. Ever since the collision, he'd been convulsing violently beneath her weight. There was scarcely time to be offended.

"Freyd...?", she probed warily, "You gonna survive? Just how much batter did you inhale??" Careful fingers did their best to scrape, then shovel, the pockets of pooled gunk away from his face. Eventually, the stifled wheeze morphed into something guttural. A few additional lurches finally gave voice to a sound that resembled laughter.

Ok, not dead -- he can breathe, at least., came a comforting assessment. "Uhhh, so just what in the hell lead to all this?", she asked with humored bemusement, "Some inspired plan of your's?" Elora had to admit, she considered his conniving mind to be infallible. He was supposed to be THEE SHADOW, or you know, whatever else lied inside of it. "I guess clumsiness was always your greatest enemy.", she teased with a smile -- or at least, whatever she could manage of one. The lingering mixture was beginning to near the consistency of a curing cement. 

"We should get cleaned up.", Elora decided with a gesture toward her in-game menu. With only a few clicks, she'd simply need to re-equip what she wearing to dispel any residue from her attire. A moment's pause ushered reconsideration. "Actually...we've got a place to clean up here, don't we?" There hardly seemed a point in having bathrooms, rivers, and hidden pools if they weren't going to use any of them.

Edited June 27 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Wheezing out of one nostril, congealing batter assaulting his unruly hair - and possibly actually winning against this otherwise intractable foes - Freyd coughed to clear his lungs as best he could.  "Yeah... okay.  Not my best plan," he admitted, his voice sounding like it was being compressed through a Victorian sadist's tiniest corset.  Blinking and recoiling at the self-inflicted mental image he'd just conjured, he pressed one index finger against the working half of his nose, held his breath and exhaled.  The results looked like silly string flailing out the other side and felt even weirder.

"I guess clumsiness was always your greatest enemy."

"Luck? Fate? Nisahime?  Call it what you will.  It has no shortage of names, and all of them pretty much have it out for me.  It's okay though.  I get it back by biting my thumb at the universe."  He looked around at the scene of cuisine-driven chaos laid out around them.  "Yeah... it also pretty much always ends up like this." Grinning broadly, he genuinely seemed proud, reveling in the absurdity of the moment.  "I regret nothing."  A glob of mucky paste dribbled defiantly down his forehead, said universe confirming that their endless duel remained on.

"We should get cleaned up. Actually...we've got a place to clean up here, don't we?"

Realization is signaled by blinking, apparently.  Freyd found himself doing it a lot.  "Oh.  Right.  We actually have washrooms with showers and stuff." It was like the normal aspects of household living had never even occurred to him.  And, given what Elora had seen of his previous place, it seemed a safe bet. "Err... so... I guess we should... do... that."  Eyes wide and fingers pointing towards the stairs as if directing the rest of his body in the appropriate direction, Freyd's brain was clearly struggling a bit with the whole domestic thing.

[Elora 0]

The gummy paste clung to her clothes like a goddamn leech, its adhesive bond severed only by a concerted yank in the opposite direction. With a less than graceful shlorp off of Freyd, she offered a hand to help him escape from the ever-expanding puddle below. "I know right?", she found herself recounting, "I never bothered to bathe at the inn 'cause it didn't have any kind of washroom." Her mind considered how gross that admission would have sounded in a real-life context. Thankfully, wistful thoughts of warm water were enough to tow away any inklings of misplaced embarrassment.

The woman was practically bobbing with anticipation by the time she reached the stairs, her heels trailing heaps of batter in their wake. Only a few short moments passed before each began to disintegrate into a column of two-dimensional crystals. Taking the ornate wooden railing in her hand, she did her best to stabilize each unfamiliar step until she finally reached the top. From up here, she could overlook their living room. Teeming with scattered plants and eclectic possessions, their home felt less like a prison and more like a setting off on a grand adventure. I guess that's really what this is. Opening the next chapter.

It wasn't until eyes drifted down to Freyd that a certain possibility had occurred to her. She managed to dispel the smirk-smitten daydream with a confident dash down the left hallway.

"Promise I won't be too long!", she shouted over her shoulder just before the telltale 'click' of a closed door.

The gesture hardly seemed practical. On the opposite side of her bedroom entrance was a panoramic view of a nearby mountainside. Vines clambered up and around several tall wooden pillars, their shooting branches weaving into a canopy above a sizable bathtub.

It's been so long since I've been able to just soak and relax..., returned the bittersweet realization.

Elora spared no hesitation to unequip her wardrobe and enter the already-steaming water. What some would have considered to be a severe lack of privacy was nothing short of liberating to her. She had spent all of her life up until now living with other people or scraping by with few accommodations. The least she could enjoy was a bath with a good view.

Tension unwound from her chest, allowing her body to float backwards and sink along the wall of the tub. Her blinks suspended momentarily as the rest of her features melted into a serene expression. As the day's dirt drifted off of her skin, she wondered how Freyd and her would adjust to living together. Sometimes it felt like their relationship was moving too slow, othertimes too fast. And even most people our age seem married..., she considered uneasily. There was a lot of comfort in denying that prospect, paradoxically, in embracing it. 

A timely alert flashed in tandem with a growl from her stomach. Right..., Elora remembered, We haven't actually HAD breakfast yet... With a disgruntled groan, she pried herself from the water, reequiped her usual garb, and made her way back to the hallway outside.

[Freyd 0]

Still somewhat dazed as his partner helped him back to his feet, she'd whisked herself away to her quarters before his brain's reboot was complete.  All he got was something about never bathing and then going to bathe, and 'long promises'.  Realizing that he too remained covered in rapidly calcifying goo, he tromped up the same stairs. Turning in the other direction led to his far less sparse quarters.  It could hardly have been otherwise.  His previous accommodations having been so Spartan as to make Leonidus himself blush out of  a false comparative sense of excess.  Though he often blamed his father's influence for such aesthetics, Freyd had come to realize his own hand in those choices.  Attachment had been forbidden.  Familiarity had been forbidden.  Life, it seemed, had been forbidden.  It was a path veered away from for the promise of change; for himself, and for her.

Stepping down from his sleeping area into his own bathing area, he cast aside his garb as best he could.  Refusing to dismiss it outright, risking soiling whatever interdimensional space housed his absurdly vast hoard of stuff, he chose to do things the old fashioned way.  For a while, the caked on batter seemed to have the upper hand. The unnaturally adhesive substance bonded fabric to flesh in a manner to make spandex feel jealous.  It didn't help that he felt lopsided, the heartier clump of goo on the left side of his head having solidified into a hardened mass in his hair also seemed to be developing it own gravitational field.  All the hidden fasteners on his outfit might have been functional for concealment, but now proved quite the contrary during what should have been such a simple task.  Hopping around while his shirt attempted to strangle him, his toes caught the stone lip at the edge of hearth.

"Youch!"

Despite the momentary pain and surprise, his jerking reactions freed him from his garment prison leaving him only his skivvies   

"Only I could find a way to turn undressing into a full contact sport," he muttered, chiding himself. 

Though he'd had a hand in much of the home's design and construction, this would be his first actual use of the gently steaming pool before him.  Overthinking, as usual, the unexpected scene had a certain baptismal quality about it.  Recent days felt like a time for rebirth.  So much had already changed in his life.  Thoughts drifting towards the cause, his eyes strayed towards the window, then froze wide remembering all the glass Elora had insisted upon adding around her own bathing area.  

Verging on overload again, his initial primal reaction caught itself as he willed his heart to resume beating and held his baser instincts in check.  There she is - her true self on display without layered doubts and anxieties piled up so high that she couldn't find herself beneath them.  She's beautiful...

Features bleeding away infinite layers of tension, Freyd found himself smiling.  "I'm happy for her.  I'm happy for... us?"  Admission and realization broke his stare and drifted it back towards the rippling surface of the nearby pool.  Though unsteadied by the burbling heat, he could not have imagined a better, clearer reflection of his own emerging sense of fulfillment. Gently swirling, the waters spun in a familiar pattern recalling his grandfather's teachings from deeply suppressed memories.  "A yin and yang?  I supposed there's truth in that." Realization dawned, along with admission. "I owe it to her to be thinking about where this goes from here..."

The bath did its trick, removing all manner of soil and grime.  Little did its subject realize how much other baggage was also being washed away leaving only an unfamiliar, yet heartwarming, sense of peace.  By the time Freyd returned to the hallway, years of wear looked to have been shed from his shoulders. A glint of playful Cheshire mischief flashed behind his eyes when they once again met hers, his grin spreading infectiously to match.

"So... should we actually get to eating something?  Or are you gonna pick another fight?"

Edited July 5 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

Fingers curled around a tarnished knob, unlatching and guiding the washroom's door gently toward her. Where Elora had anticipated the harsh creak of worn hinges, she was instead greeted by a span of silence. It was a small detail to notice, though one she regarded with humored reverence. Not long ago, she was hefting her detached door out of the way whenever she wanted to leave The Hummingbard Inn. Part of her missed the creaking floorboards and settling walls of a well-loved place. Perhaps the inn had too many of those familiar noises. From rowdy street brawls to late-night karaoke, she never knew when a night would end, or when she would would know a moment's peace.

Witherwind Rest sang a different serenade. Until moving here, Elora had forgotten the bliss that came from hearing the rumble of a river, the way the wind raced and rushed between the limbs of swaying pines. Even the chirping crickets and whirring cicadas created an orchestra of intoxicating tranquility. She wanted to relish in every moment of this adjustment period, no matter how uncomfortable. It was never certain how long the experience would last.

She spared a second to tame an especially unruly sprig of hair before exiting the bedroom. By the time she had re-entered the hallway, Freyd had already been waiting for her.

"So... should we actually get to eating something?  Or are you gonna pick another fight?", he chided playfully.

A glint of denial formed on her lips, replaced shortly thereafter by the crease of a knowing smirk.

"Yeah -- I'm STARVING!"

Striding over to him, Elora took his hand in her's and lead them carefully down the stairs. "I think I've still got plenty of potatoes left to make boxty, but we can try for something else if you feel like it.", she reassured with a contented smile. What had previously resembled Freyd's earliest encounter with a molasses barrel had already been dispelled by the system. I could get used to a self-cleaning house., she thought with a wave of relief.

[Freyd 0]

What little tension remained in him bled away at the touch of her hand taking his. Freyd's innards fluttered in a manner to which he was only slowly allowing himself to consider familiar.  It felt good, and he gladly followed.

"No, no," he insisted, dismissing her offer to change their intended menu. "I want to try this 'box tie' thing you keep mentioning, even if it prompted our earlier... distraction."  A rumbling chuckle resounded in his chest carrying uncharacteristically open sincerity.  His honest emotions so rarely shone that it felt odd to witness their blatant expression. Flushing a little, suddenly self-conscious about it for no better reason than a lack of familiarity with himself, he followed her down, trying hard not to remember the view from the bathroom.

Returning to the kitchen, they found it suspiciously immaculate, all traces of food dispelled back to digital oblivion.  Only a self-satisfied shadow mongoose remained, in addition to various non-consumable tools and the rumbling clatter of rocks running loops around the central island.  Freyd smirked at the sight of his familiar.

"You ate it all, didn't you?"  Flatly accusatory, Persi provided only a catlike side glance while she groomed her shadowy paws, neither confirming, nor denying.  It only made her look more guilty, and her master's guess more correct.  "Did you even leave a single slurp for your friend?"  Slotted irises glanced his way with disdain as she casually pushed a single pebble off the counter, which she'd been holding pinned beneath her foot.  Boris made a bee line towards his missing part the moment it clattered off the stone tile, echoing loudly and instantly lost amidst the avalanche of his approach.  Freyd just facepalmed.  It was just like having a cat and a dog in the house, only skinned more fantastically.  One was predictably Machiavellian, and the other just happy to have found its own tail.

"Right.  So, how do we do this again?"  Shaking off the cleanup absurdity, Freyd turned back to the meal matters at hand, already pondering whether he could slice carrots with his bare hands if he channeled the right sword art.

[Elora 0]

"It's easy", she began, as a gesture through her UI summoned familiar ingredients to the counter before them. "You remember - we just gotta grate and mash the potatoes, then mix that into some flour and egg." That was the short of it, at least. Elora gave Freyd a hesitant look before suggesting, "If you can prepare the potatoes again, I'll get started on mixing the batter."

She left little window to decline as her attention diverted to the delegated task. Thankfully, the bowl she'd previously put out hadn't been fashioned into a projectile during the earlier battle. It was a straightforward process, cracking one egg into the strategically-dispersed bed of flour. She preferred to make a well to mix outward from the center. Once in awhile, Róisín caught herself repeating similar subconscious behaviors. Whether it was planting seedlings in old egg cartons or preparing tea in a particular way, each pattern offered her a haven of comfort. She supposed that many of them stemmed from a sense of stability. After all, why would you repeat an action that failed its first introduction to the world? 

Tired eyes became transfixed by the swirling batter as her mind searched for a fulfilling explanation. Finally, she felt compelled to ask, "What is it you enjoy doing most? It's kind of dumb...but making this dish, it reminds me of living with my family." That wasn't it., she realized as articulation began to fail her. "I mean - it feels strange because...I don't mean that in a typical sense - those times weren't easy or bright, at least, most of them weren't. for me But still, I'm glad I get to do this again. It feels special, like a ritual we can share together.", she paused before adding, "Like something a proper family would do."