[F01 - PP] "Back to Basics" <<Scents of the Wild: Part I>>

[Elora 0]

Scents of the Wild: Part I

Grass crinkled and compressed under Elora's heels as the elven player bobbed toward an eventual destination. An azure tote held loosely in her hand swung to and fro like a pendulum as it counteracted every excitable step. Stuffed with an assortment of snacks and pastries, she was fairly certain the load could double as a makeshift bludgeon should the need arise. Today's events, however, called for something far less violent. At least, so she'd hoped.

Another tug of anticipation towed the treasures of her second hand further forward. Although Freyd had suggested this prospective outing, he seemed much more hesitant to match her pace now that a ravenous stomached demanded additional haste.

Gusts of warm spring air coursed between the bending cottonwood trees, combing and twisting through the vegetation below like an invisible river. Ferns and flowers dipped in the breeze as if bowing to welcome the christened warriors. After a short journey from their home in Urbus, the two of them had entered the forest.

"Does this seem like the right place?", Elora asked. Cordial tone was betrayed by her expression, which appeared as if it would welcome no other answer.

 

***

Elora | HP: 720/720 | EN: 106/106 | DMG: 21 | MIT: 78 | EVA: 1 | ACC: 5 | BH: 36 | LD: 2 | AA | BLGT: 32 | FLN: 8 | REC: 8 | STK: 40
 

Spoiler

Elora
Level: 32
Paragon Level: 6
HP: 720/720
EN: 106/106

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 78
Evasion: 1
Accuracy: 5
Battle Healing: 36
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 September 27 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

"Err... yes?" 

Scratching at the back of his head, hesitantly, Freyd had been eager to join her on an outing, but wasn't quite sure how she was taking the suggestion that they'd run her through the Scents of the Wild quest series.  As much as she would benefit from unlocking its totems, he was pretty sure he'd sold her at 'lunch.'  In her typical, lovable manner, Elora hadn't blinked an eye at the fact that he was stomping around in clunky new armor.  So far as he could tell, she ignored it on the basis that it was still black, and he always wore black.  Does Batman have this problem, he wondered, having largely forgotten the details of that ancient comic, movie series, et al.  Dude dressed up as an angry winged vermin, and someone made a mint on it.  It must have been on a lark, or something, yet the idea caught fire and people started making money.  Queue the inevitable string of spin-offs and sequels.  Uh... where was he again.  Oh, right.

"Yes, this is the place.  The monuments over there are familiar."  It seemed best not to mention the fact that some horrific dungeon had opened up and swallowed him and the last two players he'd accompanied here.  Probably won't happen this time.  Probably.  Plus, snazzy batsuit will protect.  Probably.

***

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

Freyd | HP: 1260/1260 | EN: 158/158 | DMG: 21 | MIT:152 | ACC:4 | F-SPIRIT | EVA:2 | BH:69 | VAMP-D: 69 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | LD:5

Spoiler

Name: Freyd, The Whisper in Shadows
True Tier: 17
Level: 33
Paragon Level: 136
HP: 1260/1260
EN: 158/158

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 152
Accuracy: 4
Evasion: 2
Battle Healing: 69
Loot Die: 5
Stealth Rating: -5
VAMP-D: 69
FLN: 16
HLY: 16

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - Samael's Pride | T4 Katana | FLN II | HLY II 
Armor/Trinket: 
  - Negare Omnia | T4 HA | MIT III | VD I
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - Night Shades | T3 Trinket | ACC III | EVA I

Combat Mastery:
  - Combat Mastery: Damage R3

Combat Shift:
  - AOE Shift

Familiar Skill:
  - Grappling Familiar

Custom Skill:
  - Shades of the Gemini (CS)
  - Beckon the Void (CSA)

Skills:
  - Battle Healing R5
  - Charge
  - Energist
  - Extended Mod Limit
  - Extended Weight Limit
  - Fighting Spirit
  - Heavy Armor R5
  - Howl
  - Katana R5
  - Quick Change
  - Searching R4

Extra Skills:
  - Disguise
  - Survival
  - Parry
  - Forgotten King's Authority

Inactive Extra Skills:
  - Meditation
  - Lady Luck
  - Photosynthesize
  - Brawler
  - Assault Mode
  - Frozen Hide
  - Hiding R3

Addons:
  - Focus
  - Focused Howl
  - Iron Skin
  - Precision
  - Reveal
  - Stamina

Mods:
  - Detect
  - Emergency Recovery
  - Impetus
  - Justified Riposte
  - Night Vision
  - Tracking
  - Untraceable

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:
  - Crystal of Divine Light (Reusable 1/thread) x1
  - Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+10% HP) x7
  - Meathook (Reusable 1/combat) x1
  - Ordsea Crystal-B (Reusable 1/combat) x1
  - Rhino's Horn (Reusable 1/combat) x1
  - Teleport Crystals x7
  - Veritas | T4 Katana) | AA, PVO I, VO I, Taunt x1

Housing Buffs:
  - Bedroom: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat
  - Bathroom: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)
  - Basic Kitchen: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot. This can exceed normal Cook enhancement caps. Ex: A perfect T2 MIT food gives 35 MIT instead of 30.
  - Storage Closet: +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
  - Living Room: Increases out of combatHP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
  - Attic (Bedroom): +1 Expertise to declared utility skill. Cannot boost a skill without ranks, or increase a skill past its maximum rank. Cannot boost a skill the user has not learned yet. Ranks obtained using this buff will make the mods of that rank available for purchase. Mods obtained this way are unusable if this buff is removed until the skill is returned to the appropriate rank by way of SP purchase.
  - Basement: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
  - Guest Room: Players can have one «Amenity» in a «Guest Room» and the «Amenity» cannot be recovered. Players are allowed to change which «Amenity» is in the «Guest Room». Multiple instances of the same «Amenity» do not stack. This buff affects the player and their choice of up to two party members.
  - Extended Workshop: +2 Crafting EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day
  - Ornate Fishing Pond: +2 Fishing EXP per Attempt and additional +1 LD & CD to fishing attempts.
  - Dining Hall: Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed. Feasts created this way cannot be used outside of the thread they are created. Limit 1 item created per thread.
  - Mega Slime Farm: +10% EXP to a thread. Limit one use per month. Must be used on a player's first post in a thread. Cooldown begins counting down when used in a post.

Guild Hall Buffs:
  - Trading Hall: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters and Rank 4 merchants/performers receive +1 crafting/identification attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters and Rank 5 merchants/performers receive +2 crafting/identification attempts per day.
  - Treasury: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

Scents of the Wild Totem:
  - Tanos
Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:
 - Appraising[3478exp] R5
Gathering Profession:
 - Fishing[576exp] R5

 

Edited October 18 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

She spared no hesitation in conjuring a checkered blanket and billowing it out to cover a small swath of grass. Its quilted fabric had barely made contact with the ground before plates and glasses descended upon it. With an eager hand, Elora portioned out a little of everything. Smells of fresh bread intertwined with tart, fruity pastries and -- hunks of raw fish?

"Oh, have you gone fishing recently?", she asked as the buttery slices found their way onto a dish. Despite seeing each other on near-daily basis, both afforded ample time apart to continue pursuing their respective hobbies. Perhaps 'hijinks' was a word better suited. Elora explored the Aincradian wilds in search of rare materials and helpful potion ingredients. Freyd, on the other hand, frequently assisted new players with leveling up their early-game stats. Once in awhile, she could have sworn he'd left the house in something more colorful. It wasn't always easy to catch him out the door. His steps, like his appearance, were but an aid for a propensity toward aloofness.

Looking at him now, it seemed impossible to imagine him in anything light or vibrant. His clothing and armor had always been...

Elora froze, her eyes narrowing as she leaned toward his chest. "You're wearing new armor--!", she gasped after a moment of inspection, "Wow, it looks so good! You look so good!" A dozen questions darted across her mind as she anticipated his reaction.

[Freyd 0]

Helping Elora spread out the blanket and setting a few small stones at the corners to keep it weighed down, he was acting more on habit than necessity.  Their clearing was relatively sheltered by the surrounding ruins and stone outcroppings, along with the lichen and intertwined branches that kept people from finding this place too easily.  Was it even findable without having picked up the quest, he wondered.  Aincrad had many layered secrets that required the right code or circumstance to crack, sometimes including pure, unadulterated, dumb luck - of either variety.

"Fishing?  Meh.  The last bit of fishing I did involved helping Wulfrin, Ciela and Mina with the King of the Lakes quest and contest.  You know how I get along with any water-based quests.  It turned out predictably, and fortunately without any serious injury."  Despite their own mishaps with Katoka on floor 

"I should probably make some time to spend on a dock or perched on the edge of a pond somewhere.  Maybe after the raid.  Fishing always helps me re-center after those."  Offering a casual shrug and grateful nod for their meal, doing so nearly ended up in a choking fit as she noticed his new digs.

"I....err... yes?  I am.  I've had to make some changes for the raid."  Despite the pseudo-samurai-style full plate weighing very little thanks to its specialized shadow-stuff construction, Freyd suddenly felt like a turtle caught waxing its own shell, surprisingly self-conscious about his deliberate change.  Turned uncharacteristically red at the compliment, being generally unaccustomed to receiving them, he subtly shifted the sword sheath at his side a little further behind him.  "And, thank you.  I'm glad you like it.  The changes will take some time to get used to."

Because they were so numerous, or because her opinion matters to you?

Shut up, Montjoy.

[Elora 0]

Chopsticks pinched and delivered multiple pieces of sushi to her mouth at a surprising speed. However intent on listening, Elora wouldn't pass up the opportunity to begin their meal. Plump grains of sweet rice rolled across her tongue as subsequent bites broke apart the fatty fish. Intermittent sips of a cold cider cut crispy through the aftertaste, perfectly cleansing her palette for sharp slices of cheese. She'd never get tired of having ready access to such a wide variety of flavors and cuisines.

For a moment, she lifted her palm and rested the set of chopsticks across her right cheek, fawning at his progress. "Can't believe that only yesterday you looked like a preacher about to give mass. Now look at you...", she sighed reverentially. "--You've gotten so strong.", she quickly continued, "Well, to me, you've always been strong, but...you know --" Flustered eyes darted away as she fidgeted toward another appetizer. Somehow, it was still so easy to get this way around him. Maybe it was because he was so quiet -- or because she talked too much. Either way...

"How're the raid preparations going", she asked on a less awkward note.

[Freyd 0]

A coy smile crossed his angular features as he watched her decimate the foodstuff with unmitigated gusto, bleeding into a full and proper chuckle as cider chased cheese down her gullet. Was it going out of style, or the last sampling of some lost vestigial vintage? 

"Are you worried someone's going to steal your meal?  I can't tell if you just really like the flavour or are trying to beat the clock in some sort of festive feeding frenzy.  Or, is it some sort of Irish tradition I just don't know about"  If so, the chop sticks make it weird.

Catching him off guard again as she suddenly turned pensive, propping up the dimples in her cheek with same said sticks, his attempt to deflect her earlier praise deflated in the face of additional compliments.

"You're strong too, Elora.  Stronger than I've ever seen you.  You should be proud of that, and never underestimate yourself.  It looks magnificent on you.  But, also, thank you."  Azure eyes met amidst stray scintillating beams of light waltzing slowly beneath swaying verdant boughs.  Taking her other hand, the one not otherwise occupied with utensils, he gently rubbed a rough thumb along its smooth back, marveling at the chasm of contrast between them that utterly failed to keep them from orbiting each other like a pair of intertwined stars in the night's sky. 

"I'd gladly trade some of that strength in favour of better tempered wisdom, and a hefty dose of serenity.  Maybe I already have?"  A gentle snort mocked his own nostalgic roundabout brought about by her referencing that cassock.  Maybe a little symbolic introspection rubbed off on him after all?  Damn.  He wanted to kiss her, tension thick as Dublin Fog bubbling between them.  

She won't break, you know.

No.  But I might.

"How're the raid preparations going", she asked, shattering his stalemate.

"Err... I'm not really sure?  Various groups have been hunting and gathering various consumables, and the raid meeting has been called immediately after Wulfrin and Ciela's wedding.  Weird timing, but they insisted."  A conjured mental image suddenly shifted the bride's hair from red to green, sprouting gently swooping elongated ears. Freyd's mind's eye faltered. 

"These meetings are always a bit of a waste, pushing jigsaw people together to speculate about things with little  to no factual information.  But, they serve as a gauge for who might participate and in what capacity.'  And confirm who's not dead, though he kept that grim detail to himself.

"Hopefully we'll have enough, and of the right mix."  Knowing her stance on raids in general, it felt best just to avoid asking her intent.  She would show, or would not.  The choice was always hers to make, evoking one of the traits he most admired about her.  In her fiercest heart of hearts, Elora had always been her own woman: a thundering tempest bottled inside an inconspicuous shell.  He'd seen the gamut of that storm and held it close without flinching, glimpsing it again every time they snatched a rare moment to themselves.  That feeling gave solace, and a source of courage to cling to in the face of the most lethal and dire sort of uncertainty.

[Elora 0]

A playful glare greeted his remark about her Irish upbringing. "No", she sang back with a stifled wheeze, "If this were an Irish tradition, you'd be outmatched." Chopsticks retreated as her fingers fell from the accusatory gesture. "I'm afraid I can't educate you until we're gone.", came a wistful reminder, "No way to have a proper drink until then." He'd have to trust that her liver was as iron-clad as the challenge suggested.

A halo of warmth guided her resurrected imagination back to the present moment. Ruddy knuckles charted the impressions of a callused hand as it brushed and curled around her own. With fingers splayed, her digits danced around until some of his own were successfully ensnared by their reach. There was something simple yet serendipitous about the way their bodies interlocked like reunited puzzle pieces. The thought pervaded, extrapolating to new destinations, strengthening a desire for further exploration.

"These meetings are always a bit of a waste, pushing jigsaw people together to speculate about things with little to no factual information.  But, they serve as a gauge for who might participate and in what capacity."

"Yeah --", she sputtered momentarily, "I'm sure they're helpful in some ways -- to newer fighters, at least." Elora gave pause, realizing her contradiction. "It was overwhelming to me, but it was great to see you and Kat there. I think it made me feel...less like I didn't belong." Free hand fidgeted with the folds of their blanket as she made an effort to steady her thoughts. "It's a lot of bureaucracy, but I'm sure it's well-intentioned, even if its a chore for everyone else." 

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as serious eyes reinforced her intentions, "If you need me, tell me. I don't want any of you doing this without enough bodies."

[Freyd 0]

For a moment, he wasn't sure whether she meant the raid or not.  The way her fingers intertwined with his, cast in the perfection of light and time cocooning the landscape around their innocent intimacy, placed Freyd completely out of his depths.  Feelings jumbled between his heart, doing cartwheels in contrast to the delicate warmth of her touch and the sheen of moist lips after a meal.  The poor man had never known such sensations, save in their most primitive forms, and never in a manner that he imagined could share with someone else.  Here was someone he cared for deeply, but would feel forever guilt if he acted inappropriately.  Where was that line?  How was he supposed to know where it lay?!

"I always need you, Elora.  More than I can properly express, but the raids are something each person must choose to participate in themselves."  Gods... that damnable raid was the last thing on his mind, but also the only tether left between his body and rational mind - which said volumes when it came to a man who long considered himself to be more machine than human.  Danger came from a new inner direction: deluge at flood gates long closed, now disgorging tidal waves of emotion he only knew how to contain.  Navigating a raging river was proving far more difficult.

Blinking, Freyd realized he hadn't taken a breath in too long, his lungs heaved at the jarring return to lucid clarity - kinda. His head still swam with sensations made more of touch than words. Swallowing absent saliva, he forced an awkward smile, revealing a losing hand with no prospects of bluffing.

"I... just... this is really nice.  And I...I..."   Pursing his lips, he closed his eyes, having no clue where he was able to take this without offending her.

Just say it.  It's not that hard.

"I love you, Elora."  Plainly said, with the gravest sincerity he had ever mustered.  "These last few weeks have been the happiest of my life.  You deserve to know that, because it was you who made it happen."

Hnnnnggg... what the hell am I doing?!  I feel like a total sappy idiot!  And yet... 

As was so often Freyd's way, his eyes communicated better than his words, conveying to her just how much she meant to him and how genuinely happy he was to be with her.

Edited October 6 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

Cutlery clattered in the wake of her movement as arms sprang outward to sling around his shoulders. Jubilant heartbeats outpaced precious seconds until the space between them was little more than a sliver. For as perceptive as The Whisper could be, Elora was surprised to see his reflexes lag in such capacity. Gravity towed his gaze down to her draping form as she stared affectionately up at him. In the twisting sunbeams, her eyes seemed to shimmer with a luster of serenity. 

"You're too special to me", she uttered with dueling intention. A curled hand came to gentle rest on his cheek, tracing the jawline to cusp his chin. Whatever worry had crossed her expression was quickly usurped by something softer, an air of contentment. "I'm glad that, despite everything we've been through, we were able to make it this far..." Pain seeped into those words as her speech trailed off, her mind swelling with several alternative endings that either of them could have met. She likely didn't know the half of them. With a steady exhale, she warded the trepidation away. "I couldn't have ever imagined meeting someone here, falling in love, building a home..." The corners of her smile creased slyly, pushing rosy cheeks upwards as eyes narrowed in pursuit.

Elora's thumb pressed into rough skin, guiding Freyd's face to meet with her parting lips. She kissed him gently as her breath held in anticipation. An orchestra of rustling leaves and whirring insects seemed to crescendo as evanescent sensations reclaimed center stage. Filtering rays followed their performance like spotlights, their heat incubating Elora's scalp like the watchful eyes of a critical audience. 

Blissful surrender thrust back into sudden awareness as her assuredness began to falter. Drifting back from their kiss, Elora's face appeared beat as an Irishman on tropical holiday. Or perhaps an apple, because that sounds a little more romantic.

Fingers retreated to fidget with clothing, hair, and whatever else they could find as her mind sputtered. "Umm...I forgot what else I was going to say --", she admitted with a quiet squeal of embarrassment.

[Freyd 0]

'Should we consider getting married, someday' was what he had meant to say.  Foiled by unfamiliar swellings of the heart overriding and addling his senses, the jumbled mess of words flooding from his lips sounded a lot more like: "Weshouldgetmarried..."

Freyd eyes widened in equal measure to the failing of his voice, the machine side of his brain desperately mashing  his mouth's emergency shut-off button so hard it threatened to permanently eject his lips.  Realizing what he'd actually said and its potential implications, his hands clenched the edges of the armor plates covering his thighs so hard that the system recorded an impact without knowing how to deal with it.  Hairs on the back of his neck stood more upright than they had against any raid boss he'd ever faced.  Fight or flight instincts deadlocked within, silently arm wrestling between dreading that he might have just ruined a beautiful moment and permanently dissolved everything they had spent years nurturing, just because his couldn't keep his damned damned heart locked up for once...

Should I back away from it?  Should I just leave?!  There's a shadow right there... I could just....

No.  The mental refusal came from his own shadow, but with a distinctively more feminine voice than Montjoy's.  Was Morrighan playing more tricks on him, or had his mind just snapped in the moment?  He pictured himself about to shatter as he'd once done in Elora's arm's in the blossom bog behind the Liminal Blind.  They'd just found themselves in the aftermath of Shadow's defeat and everything had been turned upside down.  He, Takeshi, Cichol - it was all fracturing and about to collapse.

Enough of that.  Man up, for a minute. This is about her, not just your dumb lummox ass.  Listen to her.  She's also way smarter about this stuff than you are. Twin blue orbs with horizontal slanted pupils opened in the echo cast by his form.  Freyd knew those eyes, and would have gasped, but he realized he hadn't taken a breath since his blurting.

Blushing so deeply that his face was threatening to earn its own red icon, Freyd forced his eyes to Elora's, his mouth firmly clamped shut. 

Not breathing was still going to be a problem.

Edited October 14 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

A distracted right hand dropped drastically toward her chest, as if her heart had doubled its weight in only a second. Perhaps her body was acting on instinct, piloting limbs in rapid response to a potential cardiac arrest. Breath siphoned from Elora's lungs before her mind could even grasp the meaning of what Freyd had suggested. M-married -- we should get married -- he wants to...get married? With me?, the speculation began. Her bright blue eyes remained interlocked, transfixed by his. Too many heartbeats. Too many sounds. The silence between them stretched on.

He's not -- He means -- It's because -- 

She had misunderstood.

A raspy wheeze forced itself out of her throat. With eyes squeezed tightly shut, Elora's head swung back, her hands soaring to cover her face. After a few more moments of erratic, asphyxiating giggling noises, she managed to steady herself. Fingers timidly spread and peeled away from her face, which burned like a furnace underneath. She was already anticipating his laughter, the lighthearted teasing at her mistake. It wasn't the first time a joke like this had gone over her head. She had always been bad at reading the room and deciphering a punchline before it was moot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

Blurry eyes blinked to refocus on his as a hefty exhale escaped her diaphragm. Shaky hands followed suit, smearing unbidden tears from the corners of her vision. With any luck, they would serve as reinforcement to her belated amusement. 

An eventual clarity dispelled any lingering shock, allowing Elora to fully recognize Freyd's flushed expression.

"You're -- serious --", she stuttered as realization finally set in. Pupils dilated in surprise before darting in search of an answer. "I --", came the frazzled response, "Do you want to -- I'm not -- Do you think we're ready --?"

A barrage of questions outpaced her speech, curtailing the conversation. There was so much more she wanted to say, more she needed to express.

The cicadas continued their chorus as the world froze before her.

[Freyd 0]

Eyes widening slightly at the heaving wheeze of her breast, her hand clutching thereto like she was having some sort of episode, Freyd was about to pounce and deliver the Heimlich on instinct when words finally eeked through her lips.  Well… more sounds than words.  Distraught, troubled, caught-off-guard-in-a-not-so-good sort of way sounds that made his heart fall low enough to bypass the pit of his stomach and taste the insides of his toes.  

“Oh…”

Not that he’d planned any of this, but it wasn’t quite the reaction one might aspire to.  Like, not even remotely close, even in the arena of horseshoes and hand grenades kind of way.  More like its exact opposite. Freyd was left feeling awkward and humiliated by his outburst, as if he’d mis-stepped into some emotional quagmire that would swallow him whole and spit his fledgling heart into one of those dirty sauce-laden bowls normally reserved for chicken wing dregs.  So, feeling not great?

Having no measure of his own intentions when he’d blurted them out in the first place, he had no ready responses.  One of the few times he’d ever truly put his heart out in the open and let down the curtain of his meticulously controlled veneer was starting to feel like he’d just had it pummeled by a butcher’s tenderizer. She doesn't feel the same?  No.  Why would she?  I'm an idiot.

His emulation of Elora's own standard behaviour escaped his awareness completely, compromised by exposing his emotions to the abstract equivalent to explosive decompression. Lips clamped shut, self-defense mechanisms kicking in automatically.  Abandoning his plate of sushi on his rocky seat, Freyd’s focus had turned completely about-face and honed onto their original intent in traveling to this destination to the exclusion of all else, lest the gnawing doubts do more damage to him than Samael's baleful cries ever had.  Frantically scouring the surrounding standing stoned for symbols, he finally forced himself to freeze, his rational self having had long enough to reboot and recover. A heavy sign let loose with deliberate control, he forced himself to adult in a way his innards otherwise cantankerously refused.   

"Yes," he finally answered, his back turned and feeling ever more childish over his initial reaction.

Have the guts to face her!  This isn't you.

A half-turn was all he'd manage, his face locked in a neutral stare to keep it from falling into anguish.  That one word carried all her questions, and might have done the same for his.  After so long, covering so much ground together, maybe he'd let himself hope that it might not have come as such a surprise?

***
Decipher puzzle.  ID 235909 | LD 11+5=16 (total)
 

Edited October 18 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

Watching Freyd leave her felt like a dream. Where had the warmth of the summer rays gone? Her skin felt cold, her senses cauterized. Sounds and motions played out before her as Elora withdrew into herself. Somehow, her mind simultaneously felt as if it was completely frozen and rushing at a thousand meters per second. Thoughts were fleeting and unsubstantial, her conscious unable to string together any clear form of reason. Racing breath seemed to slip in her lungs as her heart pounded erratically in her chest. 

She tried to will herself to act, to force out any semblance of internal guidance. Instead, a familiar numbness had begun to creep over her, immobilizing every intention. Before Elora knew how to escape, her mind had became a spectator, her heart the captive audience. Once recognizable shapes morphed into shadows as her vision became transfixed on something distant. It was as if she had just plummeted into sleep. No, was starting to wake from...

The impressions of distant memories began to dapple her clouded awareness. Dunned by the haze of time, their imagery remained obscure; the emotions anchored to them potent by comparison. Behind a veil of regret, Elora could hear the once-loving voice of the one she'd hurt, the one she had lost. Gnarled, messy, dangerous feelings gouged through her, threatened to overwhelm what little she remained in control of. There was no place for her here. Róisín was a destructive existence, a maelstrom of envy and anger too difficult to contain.

A reflective gleam shown from Elora's trembling wrist as her bracelet seemed to unlatched itself and tumble to the ground. Borris, although inanimate in appearance, was keen on recognizing when his companion's vital organs had surpassed their usual cadence. The small familiar paused for a moment, as if to regard her, before taking off through the grass. A large magnetic headstone rolled ferociously ahead as several polarized pebbles snaked behind in a chain. Faint rustling proceeded his arrival to Freyd's boot, where the creature promptly reassembled into its typical golem-like shape.

A pair of misshapen fists raised high into the air before reigning down on the leathery shoe. As mighty as his efforts were, Borris was still infinitesimally smaller than his human counterparts. What may have sounded like a war drum to him would be little more than curious thrumming to towering ears. Still, he stubbornly persisted, throwing every ounce of his weight at Freyd in an effort to alert him.

Róisín's body began to shake even harder as hot, terrified tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Time continued to spin around her as Freyd seemed to drift away. For as much as she wanted to mend everything she'd destroyed, her body remained incapable. Everything she'd done, everything she was, was beyond what she could handle in this moment. 

She was afraid. Paralyzed. Unable to control herself. 

A complete sensory overload -- an emotional shutdown, was the only way to spare them from a rising, ruthless tidal wave. Freyd didn't deserve that, Elora hadn't deserved that, her mom hadn't deserved that. 

Looking through Freyd, she pleaded, "Don't go...", to the memory on the other side.

[Freyd 0]

A wound in his soul that felt self-inflicted gnawed as it festered from its moment of inception.  Why was his pride and ego so devastated, where he'd so recently been devoid of both?  That change was wrought by her efforts. Was this how he repaid that caring?  Was he also sordidly quick to discard the very flower that had taken ages to nurture into beautiful bloom?  Would he destroy it by childishly callous self-doubt?  Everything he'd become was thanks to her.  Freyd knew, deep down, what terrifying doom had lain in his opposing path.  It lingered in his dreams, burning a hole through the pages of a black book floating in some elsewhere like an invisible sword dangling over the heart they had implausibly forged, together.

Clattering stone broke the nightmare's hold, drawing stupored attention to the tiny terran terror that was Elora's familiar pounding at him with all its puny might.  Borris?  How strange that a creation of stone would be the one to lift the burdensome cloud of shame and smothering darkness threatening to seep over him like a tide of despair.  Just like how Shadow's flood must have felt.

Recollections flashed through him, channeling the memory of that moment when he'd once been punched in the gut by Time's Forgotten King, his breath failing, but also the deep drawing gasp of epiphany that followed.  Like Borris, he'd always been her rock, and, in this moment, he was failing in that task.  Failing the thing he cared most about in this world, and the reason he could even care at all. 

Rocks endure, with a patience to span infinite ages, if required.  A surge of resolve, warmed by gratitude for the tiny mob who'd come to their rescue, nearly overwhelmed the Whisper's tumultuous spirit.  From the shrapnel of shadows scattered by the stony figure's vigorous movements appeared another familiar silhouette, her unmistakable presence revealed by the slivered dawning of blue, slotted orbs.  For once, they blazed with encouraging empathy, rather than arrogance.  

"When the heck did you two become so wise?" 

Nodding his understanding, Freyd pursed his lips before mouthing silent thanks to them both.  Swallowing hard, he chose the brighter path.  Elora's path, as he had come to see it.  Perhaps, if one day she was willing, it would also prove to be the path that led to them being together in the way of the blurted bond.  How could he willingly and daily face the worst that Aincrad had to offer, yet fail to fight with anything less than every remaining breath for her?  Courage and devotion's true measure, and the merit of his proposal could only be weighed by deeds. If he turned away now, Freyd realized, he would be failing her completely.  His only goal - only need and desire - was to be whatever she needed him to be, for her sake.  Nothing else mattered.

A sense of serenity turned him the balance of the way towards her, ever-present harshness fading from around his eyes as life restored itself in his gaze.  Leaving the duet of intertwined digital spectators by the ruins, Freyd strode slowly, but with certainty of purpose back to Elora's side.  Reaching a tender hand to hers, he pressed her shaking fingers gently to restore their stillness, lifting it between them and wrapping his other hand around hers for added certainty.  

"Yes," he repeated, slowly and quietly, channeling every fiber of sincerity she'd fostered in the once-empty void of his heart.  "Yes, I do want to.  Yes, I am completely serious.  But, we're only truly ready if we both feel like we are.  So let's take this one Borris-sized step at a time."  Drawing her hand down to his chest, he pressed it against the ghostly pin concealed beneath the plates and folds of his armor - the Shadowed Rose, forever held close in effigy of what mattered most to him, in all ways.

"A pair of good and faithful friends recently reminded me of how important it is to keep working towards our dreams, with the patience and endurance of stone, and inexhaustible persistence.  All I've ever wanted was to be with you, and become the man you've told me you see - that best version of myself I always hope to see reflected in your eyes Elora.  And he strikes me as the type who'd be at your side, waiting until everything felt right, for both of us, whether that took one day, one hundred, or any countless tens of thousands." 

Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, Freyd waited in silence, ready to do the very thing he'd sworn himself to forever deny; turning over his fate to another. Hesitation held no hold over his choice. She was absolutely worth it.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫

Edited October 19 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

A curtain of darkness descended before her as something reached out to envelop her hands. Elora whimpered, her body flinching in response to its touch. The cold contact of leather gloves soon faded as a halo of heat arose in its stead. Recognizing the presence of a familiar soul, the mirage of previous days began to dissipate. At first, she couldn't make out Freyd's words, only the gentle rhythm of his voice. Fingers slowly curled and probed to explore the creases of steady palms as sensation bled back into her rigid muscles.

"...All I've ever wanted was to be with you...", he calmly reassured.

Drawing closer to him felt like returning home, at least, how she had always imagined that moment would feel. Knees practically buckled beneath her as Róisín collapsed into his arms. Burying her face far into his shoulder, she began to cry. Her chest swelled and sank in sporadic convulsions as choked sobs escaped from her lips. Nails dug and intertwined with the fabric of his cowl in desperate search of an emotional anchor.

Even now, she couldn't believe herself, hated the way she crumbled under the slightest kindness.

A ragged scream expressed as a stifled wail.

She shook angrily, bitterly while the waves of hurt raged through her, battered her core. Why does it always end this way?, she thought as the pain persisted, Why do I always hurt someone else? Why do always hurt myself? For as long as she could remember, it had seemed easier that way. What else could she possibly be in control of? Every venomous word, every failed relationship -- it had to be because of her. 

Reason fizzled away as her attention was brought to the impression of a pin. The Shadowed Rose...a testament of their commitment to one another...Warm, precious memories of their earliest encounters radiated serenely as she traced the shape with unfurling fingers. I knew so little, and even then...Freyd still believed in me..., she fondly reflected. Trickling tears began to subside in the wake of every selfless action and caring reminder that crossed her mind. Róisín wasn't sure she could ever make sense of why. Maybe some day, the answer would appear, just as unexpectedly as the love she had been shown.

Steadiness seemed to return to Elora's breath as she shamefully peeled back from Freyd, her eyes evading his gaze. "I'm really sorry...", she faintly said, "I wasn't expecting that...and I didn't know how to react...I thought...it must have been -- that you were just messing with me..." She seemed to deflate at saying that. "I didn't mean to hurt you, and I really love you, I just don't know what to say..."

Stray tears escaped from the corners of her eyes as Elora quickly raised a sleeve to press them away. 

[Freyd 0]

He could see the signs though the welling glaze over her sea-blue eyes, their downturned edges warning of a pending collapse.  

Keep talking.  Don’t let her sink into that darkness.  

As Elora’s knees wobbled beneath her, his arms were there to cradle and support her.  No crashing.  Not this time. She was not alone.  He knew her.  Trial end tribulations, shared, had fostered him out of the denseness of his own dimmed awareness just enough to know one heart in this world: hers.  In that moment he finally knew for certain: he would die to protect it.  When did that happen? 

For a creature of absolute focus and resolve to be swayed away from its devoted purpose was no mean feat, yet the burbling broken woman in his arms had managed to do just that. He ached inside to hear the depth of her grief as she buried herself against him, sobs reverberating in his bones like an accusation and the echo of unknown, lingering despair.  The stifled wail that followed nearly broke him, yet he refused. She needed him. Truly needed, on a level he’d sensed but not been ready to understand.  Like some Grinch in a treasured holiday special, Freyd’s heart swelled out of its frame as epiphany dawned. It was never about anything more than how they felt about each other; the joys of time spent together in reverie and terror, so long as the moments were shared.

"How could I be so careless?"

Clutching her tight to him as she unleashed her anguish in a muted wail, he just kept repeating her name.  Like a distant lighthouse for one lost in the direst of storms, he’d anchor her, bringing her back to safer shores with a calming, soothing embrace.

“This is not you.  This was me.  I never should have blurted something out like that, or caught you so off guard.  It wasn’t fair, Róisín,  And I’m sorry.”

Her fingers stirred beneath his, pressed against the memento rose, kept ever over his heart like a priceless treasure. Slender, delicate digits tracing its edges like following a mandala to the episode's conclusion.  All he needed was to provide the pulse to guide her steps along the journey, like a cadence turned current to keep her moving forward. As her storm surge quelled and she unfurled himself from him, Freyd’s eyes shone only with sympathy and concern, tinged with a hefty dose of shame at having spawned this emotional maelstrom in the first place.

"I'm really sorry...", she faintly said, "I wasn't expecting that...and I didn't know how to react...I thought...it must have been -- that you were just messing with me..." She seemed to deflate at saying that. "I didn't mean to hurt you, and I really love you, I just don't know what to say..."

"I know.  I... never meant to hurt you, or catch you off guard.  It was too much and just burst out," he replied, quietly, tracing the edges of her dampened, verdant locks, wiping away tears like morning dew as he locked gazes to offer her his tenderest smile. "And it's okay to say nothing.  I'm not sure either of us was ready for that.  So why don't we shelve it for awhile, and just be happy to be together?" 

[Elora 0]

A raspy sigh escaped from her lips as relief bled across her features. Like a flame ignited from flint and steel, Elora's eyes appeared to rekindle some of their familiar brightness. The invitation to start anew felt cleansing, rejuvenating in the wake of whatever shadows had suddenly breeched her surface. She stepped back from him and considered darting to their next prospective destination. Muscles seemed to flinch momentarily as Elora abandoned the inclination, her head shaking instead.

"I know you'd never mean to hurt me...", she said as a hand lowered to cusp around his, "It isn't your fault, and I don't want you to feel guilty." Another wave of pain swelled through her. Teeth sank into her lower lip while fingers tensed, her mind in search of greater security. The fractured pieces of her floated freely like flotsam junk in a sea of indecision. 'It's okay to say nothing', she echoed his reassurance. Still, a part of her clung to the idea that she could undo what had happened, mend the open wound that threatened to drive him away.

"I'm not used to being so close -- having someone like you in my life...", she started with hand guiding them to a nearby ruin. "I'm afraid -- of losing you, and everything that we have." It almost feels easier that way., spoke the voice to a deeper fear. Elora's fingers reached out to caress the runes that had been etched into stones. How could she give voice to something so... "It's contradictory...", she plainly stated, "To want to get closer to someone, but also keep your distance..."

Feelings threatened to resurface once again as Elora fought to keep them down. A soft light pulsed from the cryptic passage before them, indicating that its contents had been deciphered. If only it could be so easy.

Elora stood somber for a moment before turning to look Freyd in the eye. "I don't know how to explain --", she said with a squeeze to his hand, "But I think you know what I mean."

 

***

Decipher puzzle.  ID 236953 | LD 16+17=33 (total)

Edited Monday at 03:12 AM by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Could sentiments ring out in echo?  Hearing his thoughts given voice through her words was unexpected, though also heartwarming.  Old Elora would have smiled awkwardly, contrived some excuse or self-effacing lie to smother any risk of exposing her own perceived flaws or felt inadequacies.  Hints curled upward at the edges of his lips even as careworn edges weathered down the default arch and harshness of his brows.  A ring of truth.  A touch of the bond slowly yet still burgeoning between them, delivered through the tenderest of touches  and the image of fairest skin. 

Understanding.  Pride.  Growth.  Now that his chest and temples weren't pounding to the borderline of aneurism, he could think and hear more clearly. Sincerity welled forth by a willingness to let herself be seen, soul bared.  It meant worlds to him.

This is a gift, and is what makes me want to be with her - that beauty inside that resonates and calls.  Do we echo to each other?

Eyes widened in momentary epiphany, Freyd finally understood what he felt.  More importantly, also why, and what made it important to wait.  Like the puzzle surrounding them in the ruins, they needed time to decipher themselves and each other.  'When' was the wrong question.  All flowers blossom in due time.  Rushing them never works out, and risks only ruinous blight.  A momentary chiding wave washed over him, shivering down his spine at his own impetuous impulse.  That wasn't him, and it was unworthy to have placed her in that position.  

As was her way, Elora had already moved on.

"It feels weird," he whispered with uncertain candor, admitting it to her as much to himself.  "But I think I might?  It sounds like we're both afraid of hurting each other, and... hurting ourselves?"  Silence reigned. "And, ... there's..." Eyes closed to struggle with the internal debate, suddenly settled.  "I'm afraid of hurting you." 

It had never felt more painful to swallow, ever, but the admission was real.  Not physically, of course, but Freyd felt like an emotional support ogre cradling a rose, worried his very existence would sully her on contact, or else crush its confidence by sheer brutish accident.  His world was dark, harsh, and unforgivably ruthless.  It required hard choices.  He'd committed himself to it long ago with a promise  incongruous with these feelings, spawning yet another puzzle his mind could never resolve, unable to acknowledge it was using the wrong tool.

Still, maybe it helped?  Standing, he reached and twisted an instinctually familiar pattern buried beneath tangled thorns and vines that scraped against his armor as he toggled them into position.  Thorns tore his skin and Freyd hardly noticed.  That last, gnawing thought always left him numb.  For now, he just needed to follow her and help, like he always had.

***

Decipher puzzle.  ID 237734 | LD 18+5=23  | LD 33+23=56 total

Edited Tuesday at 02:24 AM by Freyd