[OP-F15] King of Crows

[Corvo 0]

The scents of incense and spice were only faint from so high up, but they were what had driven him there. Lhasri was pungent and vibrant, filled to overflowing with culture, art, and even music that bled deep into the night. Firelight rather than proper lanterns settled in over the cityscape, illuminating the figures of its citizens gyrating and undulating in time with the rhythm. He climbed to the apex of one building simply to escape the headrush that his surroundings gave him. 

Though Corvo enjoyed smoke and even inhaled deeply when first he arrived, after several long hours of exploration, the high was dizzying. His eyes still watered even after wiping them dry multiple times. One leg hung over the edge of the rooftop, he leaned forward and lazily took in the sights. 

He'd come to visit not simply for the beauty that was storied to be everpresent in Lhasri, but for the chance to visit something remotely like one of the many cultures and nations he'd studied deep into the night back home. The reality of it bled together with the fantasy, and though he'd hoped for a welcome respite, the sheer scale and realism of the experience had been more than he bargained for. Now as he stoked his pipe and inhaled deeply the poison that never seemed to manage to take the pain away, he felt his thoughts drifting to another world.

His parents had yet to give up hope. They could have pulled the plug anytime. Hell, the servers could have fluctuated and ended them without any notice. If there was a god, he still looked favorably down on Corvo. He told himself that mostly because it would have made his father happy.

But when he really faced his innermost thoughts, Evan couldn't conceive of a god who would allow this world to steal all of them away from their lives and loved ones. Not an Omnibenevolent god, at least. The people of Lhasri believed in a vast pantheon of gods. Some of those gods were good, and some were evil.

That made more sense than what he'd been told. It still made less sense than life being an amalgam of random, chaotic happenstance. And all of that made less sense than the discordant thoughts running at breakneck speed through his mind.

I need a drink...

Spoiler

Corvo - Level 9

180/180 HP 36/36 EN

Item Name: - Reaver's Edge
Item Tier: - 1
Item Type: - War Axe
Item Enhancements: - 2 Damage 1 Bleed
Description: - An axe with a serrated edge, guaranteed to leave a wound that will continue to bleed after it strikes.

Name: The King's Lament
Item Type: Cloth Armor
Tier: 1
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: Risky | Risky | Recovery
Description: "Once the loose fitting vest of a great king. When he was killed by his enemies, his spirit would not be laid to rest. That rage and despair linger, fueling the wearer's killer instinct."

Item Name: - Death God's Favor
Item Tier: - Tierless
Item Type: - Trinket
Item Enhancements: - Accuracy 3
Description: - A talisman fashioned in the shape of a skull with a blade driven through it. It emanates a foul aura, said to ensure the lethality of the bearer.

R4 War Axe
R3 Cloth Armor
-[Mod]Athletics

Base Damage: 8  Mitigation: 12 Accuracy: 3 Evasion: 0 Bleed: 12 Risky: 8 Recovery

 

Edited September 26 by Corvo

[Crane 0]

Bars, taverns, places for drunks to celebrate, or wallow—they were common places for people to gather. Normal people wound down and socialized after a day's work, and so did Arthur Crane. Lhasri, while not particularly to his taste, was the settlement with the shortest commute. He had chosen it for no other reason; the tavern too. It was a run-down old establishment with an ocean of clientele for Arthur to blend in with. He was seated at the packed bar, with a few seats open to his left and an iced drink in his hand.

His gaze was even, steady on the back wall. Periodic sips and thoughts of discontentment were all he focused on, ignoring the loud, needless chatter of nearby patrons. He had just finished an annoying conversation with an older man about the recently increased price of pack mules in the city. It took great restraint not to strangle him where he sat. Instead, he smiled and agreed, offering a few two many replies for his liking. Fifteen minutes too many.

In a strange way, he was glad for the encounter. It was all the evidence he needed to prove that his disguise was working. A man looked him in the eyes and saw nothing but another man. Nothing pointed towards the fact that he had just concluded the murder of another player.

His green cursor lingered. He was smart, and careful. He made sure not to physically harm them in the process; he knew the games limitations rather well, and was aware that transgressional acts of that capacity resulted in immediate criminal brandings. He couldn't afford to turn orange. He had too much to risk.

Unfortunately, this meant that his work required a rare tool that was difficult for him to replenish on his own: Banshee's Scream. It was a strange liquid, dropped only by the field boss of Floor Ten. Every time he came across one, he wondered how its creation had been allowed at all.

He had to separate his potions carefully. Some contained traces of Banshee's Scream. What looked like an ordinary damage, mitigation, or overhealth potion was mixed in with the substance. All that was required for the stun to takeover a person's body was a mouthful. Then, he simply had to watch from afar as something naturally occurring did the rest of the work for him. Today, he'd chosen Blood Bane. The wolf was known for hunting players and NPCs in the Floor Fifteen wilds. There was nothing that traced the death back to Arthur.

This method had taken him a long time to discover and he wasn't fond of it. It was impersonal, difficult, and could not be improved upon. He also had no choice in the matter, and that frustrated him. He enjoyed variety. In the past, he avoided similarities in his work, striving for uniqueness with each new project.

For now, he bided his time and waited for a solution to pop up. He made appearances in public, made sure that people knew him, and acted unsuspiciously.

---

Crane | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 4

Spoiler

Lv. 1

Skills:

Dagger | Rank 1

 

[Knightmare 0]

Floor 15 was a mystery to Odette. She had never explored this level, let alone ventured beyond a safe zone. Rumors of Lhasi's incredible cuisine intrigued her, and the moment she stepped off the teleport platform, the rich, aromatic spices in the air drew her in. Each food cart lining the streets was a new adventure, and she stopped at every single one.

Food was one of Odette's greatest joys, one of the few things that made her truly happy—right next to her sister. She wished Eve could be here with her now, but that wasn’t the case. Still, she’d definitely be telling her all about this floor and its mouthwatering delicacies later. After indulging in more snacks than she could count, Odette found herself craving something stronger. Drinking was a bad habit she picked up from her father, and it had stuck with her.

As she scanned the area for a bar, the breeze gently tousled her hair. Soon enough, she spotted one. It wasn’t fancy, but it didn’t need to be. Walking up to the bar, she already knew what she wanted—something she hadn’t had in a while. "Hey there, love. Can I get an extra dry vodka martini? And keep them coming, alright?" she asked with an innocent smile, settling down at the bar.

* * *

Spoiler

* * *

Spoiler

Knightmare | Level 1 | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 1

 

[KnightinGale 0]

"Sorry boys," A young woman, roughly 23, stands over a table at the back corner of the tavern. "Looks like today just ain't your day."

She reveals her hand of cards to the group of men, a royal flush leading to an obscene amount of curses and slurs thrown her way. She paid them no mind as she pulled the large amount of coin towards herself like she was used to it. After retrieving her coin, she scooped up the cards and began to shuffle them like a pro. Various flourishes and riffles were all a ploy. Truthfully it had nothing to do with luck. Instead it was merely slight of hand to ensure just the right cards landed in her possession. The group that had been playing stormed off leaving her alone. Seeing there were no takers, she simply did a true random shuffle and placed the cards back in her pocket.

"Same old same old," She said as she took a sip from her whiskey glass. "Men like them just can't stand losing."

KnightinGale, at least that was what she called herself in here, simply leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the table. She brushed her messy silver ponytail off to the side and retrieved a cigarette from the small carton she had acquired. Surprisingly here in this video game, she could drink alcohol and smoke all she wanted, as they never seemed to incur negative effects. Though the lack of a buzz was disappointing, she always found that to be the fun part. She intently watched each person that entered the tavern, partially for gullible, easy to fool, down on their luck gambling partners, but more importantly a person of similar looks as her, one could say her twin. She did a double take as someone else entered the bar, someone with a striking resemblance to her sister. Her attention fixated on the air of nobility that stood out amongst the rabble of the tavern's clientele. The newest patron sat them selves at one of only two open seats at the otherwise cramped bar. Eve, quietly and as subtly as she could moved to follow the other silver haired gal. All she needed to hear was the drink and her suspicions were confirmed.

"I'll take another of those whiskies and leave the bottle," Eve said as she placed herself in the open seat between the one she suspected to be her sister and another player who had been occasionally sneaking glances her way, likely casing the place like she was. "Lil' Odie? You are Odette right? I'm not just tripping am I?"

* * *

KnightinGale | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 1 | MIT:8                                                                                                                            

Spoiler

"Name: KnightinGale
True Tier: 1
Level: 1
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 20/20
EN: 20/20

Stats:
Damage: 1
Mitigation: 8
Stealth Rating: -1

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 

Combat Mastery:
  - 

Combat Shift:
  - 

Familiar Skill:
  - 

Custom Skill:
  - 

Skills:
  - Heavy Armor R1

Extra Skills:

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:

Mods:

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild Totem:

Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:
"                                                                                                                            

 

[Corvo 0]

He leaned back and pressed his palms against the rooftop, bracing himself for a deep breath that forcibly filled his lungs. The air here was dank, even so high up and away from the bustling city below. The headache brewing in his temples went unabated by the so-called "fresh air," and he exhaled harshly. "Fuckin' city smells like a hooker puked up saffron 'n myrrh on someone's taint," he muttered as he pushed his back toward the roof and stretched his spine, slowly reaching toward the edge with either hand to pop his shoulders. In reality, he didn't need the sensation in this world, but he was so accustomed to a more rigorous routine in the real world that he forced himself. "Can't hardly breathe. Wonder what's to do around here... maybe actually get that drink..."

Corvo rolled his shoulders back now, bringing his spine upward and lifting his feet over his head, until his toes touched behind him. He held the position for several long moments, then snapped both legs forward, bringing his body undulating into an upright, crouched position. With both hands now outstretched in front of him and the balls of his feet teetering dangerously, expertly close to the edge, he balanced like a perched bird as his gaze swept over Lhasri, simultaneous toggling the minimap in order to glean a greater idea of what was going on around him. The number of shops was expectedly high, with a smattering of taverns throughout. His disinterest remained plain for a time as he watched some of the patrons enter and exit, musing about the various clientele. Would he be able to drink in peace, or at the very least, would one of the places have a tolerable number of fuckwits to act as a counterweight to the throbbing in his forehead. 

He let his hands fall, crossed at the wrists, and dangle in front of him. "Not there," he muttered, "not there either..."

That was when he saw her. The striking, snow white mane of hair that fell down her back, nestling at the small of it. "...well, hello there..." Corvo hadn't met too many ladies in Aincrad, let alone ones that were showstoppers the way this one was. The distance between the hem of her dress and where her hair ended left just enough to the imagination that, honestly, he figured he could do worse than haunting the same bar as she did. At the very least, the view would be nice.

Now, the best thing about safe zones in Aincrad was that you couldn't die inside of them. So when Corvo gripped the edge of the building and let his body fall over the side, the feeling of falling that rose in his chest only made his lips split into a wild grin. Added to his preexisting high, the new sensation started to drown out his pain, replacing it with visceral excitement. His feet danced against the outer wall as he slid downward, fingers barely finding purchase on a window sill or a planter, then clothesline as he plummeted toward the crowd. When he landed with a loud thud and each of his fingertips brushed the ground beneath him, he gasped unbidden, reeling from adrenaline and sensory overload.

"'scuse me," he muttered as he brushed someone aside, then elbowed another, "fuck outta my way."

When he made it to the doorway at last, the inviting atmosphere of the establishment was a far cry from the world outside. A longue, complete with crisp, cool air and dim lighting greeted him. It was the perfect place to escape from the loud floor just beyond the threshold. More importantly, however, he looked for the bombshell that had grabbed his attention in the first place. "Now," he took a cleansing breath, exhaled, and peered about the open room. "Where did she..."

The word died on his lips as he found her; but not just one of her. 

"Jesus Fried Chicken," he rasped hoarsely, clutching his stones for a moment as he brushed the last vestiges of bleary tears from his eyes. "I done died and gone to heaven. There's two of them."

[Jevi 0]

Thump, thump

The bite of the cold air creeped in through the tall, paneless windows of the old mountainside temple. Normally kept warm by the heat of the forge, the coals had gone cold from lack of use. Its smithy focused on other things.

Thump, thu-Thump

Wooden doors that led out to a path up the side of the cliff were shut, a small plank with the word CLOSED hung just under the establishment's sign, Amorous Armors and Armaments. 

Thump - THWACK

The brunette's shin crashed into the large, burlap sack that suspended from the ceiling via a strong chain with a resounding boom that echoed throughout the old worship hall. She returned her foot to the cold ground, before pivoting a delivering a straight, right jab into the center of the punching bag. Her arm remained extended, though her hand-wrapped fist softened. Shoulders rose and fell as she huffed, sweat making her brown skin glisten. "Huh...huh.. That's enough for today.." she would say to herself, before releasing the chain and letting the makeshift punching bag fall to the floor. 

She took her time washing up, with no where in particular to be. The natural spring water that trickled down into her 'wash room' was perfect rinsing off, whether after working out or a long day at the forge. There was really no need to clean herself up in this world, the Cardinal system pretty much making everything instant and automatic. But it just felt, better? She didn't have to explain herself to anyone.

Stepping back out into the main space, wearing a charcoal, sleeveless top, black joggers, and an open, blue kimono top, she rose a ceramic cup filled with cold water to her lips. It quenched her thirst, surely, but not entirely. For once, she wanted to taste something stronger. "Don't think I've ever checked the bar scene out on this floor.. Guess today's the day." Closing up her home behind her, she would head up into Lharsi proper to find whatever bar suiter her fancy. 

It did not take long to find what she was looking for. Nothing too flashy, but not a complete dive.. a bit more crowded for her taste, but she felt if she left now, she would just give up the search. "Hell with it." she'd say to herself before striding inside. 

Jevi | HP: 680/680 | EN: 82/82 | DMG: 23 | MIT: 78 | EVA: 3 | ACC: 2 | BH: 30 | KEEN: 2 | PARA | REC: 4

[Knightmare 0]

Knightmare began sipping on her drink, leaning up against the bar. It wasn't long after she sat that she heard a familiar name from a familiar voice. "...Eve?" She was met with the visage of her sister. "You... I... I'm dreaming right? This thing has finally fried my brain right? I'm dead? Is this heaven?" One burning question was in the front of her mind. "What the FUCK are you doing here?! Don't you hate video games?!" Although Odette was pissed off, she couldn't help but hug her sister. She hugged her tighter than she'd ever hugged her in the past. "Well, I guess now that you're here. I'm a little more motivated." 

A voice spoke out from the crowd of the bar, "Jesus Fried Chicken." To which Knightmare stifled a laugh. Once again that same voice. "I done died and gone to heaven. There's two of them." She looked around for who the voice could've come from and saw a blonde man staring at her and her sister. She locked eyes with him. Her doe eyes narrowed, to a more sultry look. Almost as if she was calling him over with just her eyes. A trick her sister taught her. She hadn't yet gotten a chance to use them, and boy did she hope it worked. This man was a drink of water and she wanted to drown. She pointed at him and got Eve's attention to him. Whispering in her ear, "Can I pleeeeeaaase have this one?" A smirk crept across her face.

* * *

Spoiler

 

[KnightinGale 0]

"Look they aren't my first choice of recreation," KnightinGale replied as she slammed down another glass of whiskey. "Let's just say I borrowed a rig and game to come and rescue your innocent ass. This one is kind of growing on me though. The men here are so gullible it's sad. If I could figure out how to work these damn menus, I'd show you the proof."

Her attention was pulled to the crowd of people behind them. A stunning man with washboard abs and an air of confidence that Eve knew all too well had made a remark basically cat calling them. Eve didn't mind. She had had the type in her lap before, but the way her sister had yet to enjoy such pleasures, and it showed. The whisper of what could only be described as dibs danced across Eve's ears. She shrugged and began to pour another glass of whiskey for herself. If she was going to watch a show, might as well enjoy it.

"Remember Lil' Odie," Eve whispered back. "Men like him respond best when you use your assets. Also if he asks, yes I would gladly join. Go get 'em sis." 

Eve leaned back against the bar and prepared to watch the fireworks. She had taught her sister many things, but as far as Eve knew, Lil' Odie was given few opportunities to explore her desires.

[Crane 0]

He was observant. He monitored the main entrance like a hawk via a mirror behind the bar. Periodically, a new face would enter—players mostly. Each was vastly different from the last, except for a set of twins who seemed surprised to see each other. He didn't care for the details, no matter how dramatic they were. The boredom would only eat him up.

He ignored anyone who wasn't of interest. The tavern's clientele consisted mostly of ex-alcoholics who wished they could get their hands on something real to drink, and luckless gamblers on unending loss streaks. One of the twins was consistently drying out virtual wallets. She was quite good. 

The other, he noticed, had chosen to flirt silently with a blonde from across the way. Single and willing was a customer segment that he had wholly forgotten, and could probably be sprinkled in with the other fake-drunks and gambling addicts. 

A girl stepped into the tavern. She was tall, her hair was brown, and her posture made her look strong. She didn't fit the picture he had painted of a Lhasri tavern-goer; she was too clean for a place so filthy. It was curi-

No. Don't get interested.

He frowned and looked away, his eyes following the ice cubes he swished around his drink. One was enough. No more.

[Corvo 0]

It didn't take much to get her attention, he noticed.

Corvo reached back behind him and peeled the wooden pipe from his inventory, spinning it deftly between his fingers as he drew it around his body and brought it to his lips. Bringing both hands up to cup and cover the bowl while igniting the herb within, he took a long, heavy, burning draw with both eyes closed. The room was still spinning. His head hadn't left the spiral of endorphins and adrenaline, nor had the headache left him entirely. He needed the sanity that his placebo brought, at least enough to not stumble over his own two feet.

"Um, sir, this is the non-smoking section..."

The world around him slowed down, and the words all blurred together. The haze that roiled forth from his nostrils emanated and swept around him, serpentine. Ever bloodshot, they moved to the offender and considered him skeptically. As he pried the apparatus from between his lips, a fog of burning ash billowed into the server's face. "You got a problem?" he drawled.

"No problem," the man shook his head, all the while attempting to be firm. "You can move to the back," he gestured, "just over there and enjoy yourself."

Corvo stood in silence for just a moment, then placed a hand on the NPC's shoulder. "Right," he donned his false, yet believable smile. "Think I'll do just that."

He gave the man several harsh pats, just before shoving the pipe between the poor NPC's lips. Alarmed, the man gasped, involuntarily gagging on a heaping helping of smoke on top of what Corvo had exhaled directly into his face. As the NPC hacked horribly, Corvo's eyes flickered away, disinterested. He palmed his pipe, turning toward his intended prey. The smoking section was where he was already bound, and that fact was all that saved the serving boy from a torrent of curses and incorrigibly rude behavior. He hated being told what to do. The rules of this world were prohibitive, and more just kept piling on as he cast off his chains and attempted to climb higher through the castle in the sky. 

Forget that, he chided the negative thoughts creeping back into his mind. This moment, in this place- this was a chance to brush those things aside for a moment. His strides were predatory, lithe, purposeful. When finally his gaze met hers again- that sultry, beckoning, piqued interest that invited him hence- he was in front of her, looking down, the faintest traces of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. With the pipe still clutched in his fist, Corvo pressed his knuckles to his lips thoughtfully for a moment. A quick, easy opener might illicit a giggle or a quirky response, but Corvo wanted to take his time and have a halfway decent conversation. 

If she could keep up.

Spoiler

"Dad told me once," Corvo said at last, "any fish worth catching'll hook itself."

He flipped the pipe over his knuckles, caught it skillfully between index and middle fingers, and snapped his teeth down on it before taking another drag.

"How about it? Feelin' hooked yet?"

Corvo didn't change his expression as he awaited a response; if not from the girl, then perhaps from the one who bore a striking resemblance to her. Suffice to say, it was a hit or miss engage- and whatever came next was exactly the sort of chaos on which he thrived.

[Jevi 0]

The interior of the bar reeked of strong alcohol, incense from outside, and burned medicinal herbs inside.  The aromatic cacophony forced her nose to twinge unconsciously, though it only took a few moments for her to drown it out and become accustomed to it. She could feel various eyes from about the bar looking in her direction, for what reasons she could use her imagination to figure it out. Paying them absolutely no mind, she hardened her expression and allowed the muscles around her lips to relax. Social interaction was probably inevitable coming to a place like this, she just hoped she could keep away the creeps. 

"Excuse me.." she spoke to the side of a man, a couple of inches taller than her, and definitely wider. They spoke to another individual who also seemed to have not heard Jevi's request. 

"Excuse. Me." her voice a bit louder this time. Even though it was crowded, it wasn't loud in here. Not like they had blasting stereos like they did in the real world, so it was just voices overlapping and drinks hitting wooden table tops that made up most of the noise. So they definitely heard her, they were just ignoring her.  

Finally, she let herself snap. Grabbing the front of the larger man's shirt, she shoved him back. Not enough to knock them on their ass, just to get them to step back and create a space between their belly that protruded out from their jacket and the bar. "Move!" 

"The hell is your problem?!" 

"You're in the fucking way and I want to get a drink." Jevi would let a bit of her old self come out as she stared the man down for a couple of seconds. Completely expecting to be grabbed from behind, or shoved to the ground by the oversized man... but he caved. Breaking eye contact from her, he would gesture his head to his friend to go find somewhere else to sit. Jevi didn't bother to watch them storm off and instead walked right up to the bar. 

"Tequila old fashioned, splash of cerveza if you will." As the barback nodded and walked off, she would take a sit in the stool and turn around. Time to return those looks she got as she walked in. Slowly, her golden gaze scanned the patrons of the bar. Part of her was looking for a reason to enjoy her drink and high tail out of there. Another sliver of her wanted to see how interesting this day could get. 

[Knightmare 0]

Knightmare smirked as the man approached and spoke. Her voice became low and sultry, "Aww honey. It's cute that you think you got me hooked on just one line. You'll have to try harder than that." She reached out to his face, dragging her finger gently along his jawline and ending at his chin. "Is that all you've got? A handsome man like you can't just have the one line." She bit at her soft red lip gently, attempting to lure him in further. Up until now, she kept constant eye contact with him.

She began looking him up and down. She was definitely sizing him up. From the get go he seemed to have a big ego, and she was here for it. She stared at his lips for just a moment and took a swig of her martini before her eyes moved back up to make eye contact with him. She slowly moved her hand away from his chin. "Well? What are you gonna do or say to "hook" me honey?" She bit her lip once more, as a smirk crept over her lips.

[KnightinGale 0]

Eve snickered at the rather lack luster attempt to "hook" her sister. She had trained Lil' Odie well it seemed as even she had cast a line of her own. Eve, glass of whiskey in hand spun herself to watch the show in all it's glory. The difference between the two was noticeable. Yes they both had the same face, but Odette was more "blessed in the chest" than Eve was. However, Eve showed off more of her body than Odette did, wearing a simple black crop top and tattered jeans revealing the intricate canvas of ink that was her body. Clearly one was destined to be a princess and the other was some delinquent off the street. Eve was surprised at how well this video game was able to replicate real world attire. It was nice to have some familiarity in a strange world. Even if it meant starting completely over on her ink.

"Man I wish I could get drunk," Eve said as she slammed back the fifth of whiskey like a shot. "This liquor just ain't the same. You'd think a game that threatens to kill ya' would be less.... kid friendly."

[Corvo 0]

His gaze locked with hers when she reached toward him. When her fingers traced his skin, he slowly glanced down toward her hand, then back toward her. Fire burned in his veins, that deep seated longing for human touch fulfilled.

Acid boiled immediately thereafter at the cruel reality, that the touch he received was anything but. Digitized emulation of the genuine article. An elaborate lie, the same lie that the game told them day in and out.

Don't fucking touch me. His rage screamed from within, caged behind his ribs, bursting outward to blister his flesh from the inside. He almost gave voice to it, but managed to contain his aggression. Instead, he closed his eyes, and allowed the touch to continue as she goaded him.

Come the end of the night, I'll be stabbing you one way or another, hook, knife, my co-- 

The initial desire to put a blade in her right there subsided quickly. For as scary as it might be, inside the safe zone it would only incense the guards and ultimately manage nothing. The gratification flickered out of the idea as quickly as it came, leaving Corvo with only the situation he had thrust himself into thrusting itself right back into him.

Corvo's eyes reopened once her unsolicited touch had abated. 

"Sure are obsessed with makin' a man work, ain't ya?" he jeered, letting the woman sample the venom that pooled inside him. "And here I was, thinkin' you were already interested. Maybe I played the wrong hand," Corvo said, rolling his neck and turning his gaze toward KnightinGale with a crooked smirk.

"Now that," he said at the woman's assessment about the lamentable state of alcohol in their false reality, "is a sentiment that a fella can get behind."

Corvo turned on a heel and slouched into a seat not so far from Knightmare, draping his arm over the back of it and man-spreading for maximum comfort. "Seems to me if'n I can die for real playin' this game, the least the devs coulda done was let me deal with problems the same way I would've on the outside." 

He waved down the bar lad, who scowled at him, and ordered. "Seein' as we ain't enjoyin' the full experience either way, though- Everclear, straight, make it a double. I want my face to feel like it's meltin' off."

The NPC hurried off to fulfill the horrific order as Corvo turned his attention back to the two attractive young ladies.

"Y'could have this'n learn you a thing or two," Corvo accepted the glass of glorified rubbing alcohol and raised it, gesturing toward Knightmare's sister for her own benefit. "Priorities'n whatnot." With an unceremonious gulp, he sent the hellfire straight to his gullet, burning all the way down.

"SheeeeeeeeeeeYIT," he hissed, shaking his head wildly as the pain jumpstarted his receptors. "Like I was sayin', though- priorities," he repeated. "Like, for example, names- mines Corvo, by the way- those're much more important than one liners. How about it, Inky?" He addressed the tattooed sister first. "What do the boys moan when yer rustlin' their Jimmies?"

Edited October 3 by Corvo

[Jevi 0]

With a tap on the bar behind her shoulder, Jevi turned to see the bartender had placed her drink down. Their eyes focused on the far end of the bar for a moment, brows lowering as the corners of their lips pulled into a frown. Some other patron must have gotten on their bad side. Not her business. Shifting her seat around once more, her elbows would come to rest on the slick counter top, facing away from some of the rowdy clientele, and towards the wall lined with dull-colored liquor bottles. The brown lager that floated atop her drink slowly sank down into the clear tequila. Giving the glass a gentle swirl to mix the contents a bit better, she rose the rim to her lips to take a sip. Her nose scrunched and throat burned as the first sip went down. The Mexican lager on its own might have been bearable, but she could tell it was cheap tequila. Judging by the grime that coated some of the display bottles, they probably didn't have much better. Oh well, it would have to do, so she took another sip. At least now she knew what she was getting into.

The bartender walked by moments later, popping the top off of another bottle of clear liquid. Even from a distance, the aroma was enough to make her eye twitch. Probably the closest thing to pure, medical-grade rubbing alcohol that you could get. Who in their right mind would drink that stuff for fun, without being able to get drunk? "Eugh" she groaned under her breath, now curious to make it her business. Leaning forward, over the bar, she shot a glance down towards the opposite end to see who the recipient of the drink was. Two women, undeniably twins given their matching silver locks and bright eyes, stood beside a set of crimson eyes set in a permanent glare, peering out through a curtain of blonde locks. It took a moment of recalling, but she vividly remembered him and a large axe splintering the deck of a ship they were trying to save. 

Golden eyes rolled in their sockets as she plopped back down atop of her stool, and took another, bigger, swig of her drink. 

[KnightinGale 0]

Aint no way he just called me Inky! Eve thought to herself, certain that her anger was visible on her face.

Her tattoos were a part of her, and to disregard them as nothing more than simple ink was a wound to her own pride. The last guy to call her that got put in a hospital with a broken glass bottle jabbed into his thigh. She wanted to do the same here, but her judgment wasn’t impaired enough yet and it never would be.

“Bartender,” KnightinGale said as she ignored the obvious advance. “Let me have that bottle you just poured from.” The bartender shrugged and slid the bottle down the counter to rest perfectly in her hand. She uncapped the bottle of basically straight rubbing alcohol and proceeded to chug the entirety of its contents before looking the advancing player, Corvo he called himself, in the eyes with emerald eyes filled with intense rage.

“I suggest you tread carefully. First the name is KnightinGale. Second, my sister claimed you first, so that’s where your focus should be. Third, you don’t want to know what the men, and women (I don’t discriminate), moan when I russtle their jammies.” She held up her first three fingers in order as she made her stance clear. “Besides, based off how you’re acting, I can tell you like to be in control. I don’t play that game. You want submissive, my sister is the one you want. She couldn’t hurt a fly. Me? I’ve been in bar fights with men that have more game in their right pinky than you do.I may be experienced in the world of carnal desires, but I ain’t that hungry for a pile of pompous prick. ”

KnightinGale signaled for another drink and the bartender obliged. Another bottle of whiskey slid down the counter. Her point proven, she was content to swap to her preferred drink. At least someone here understands how I roll. She took the bottle and her glass and moved further down the bar to where another rugged female had paced an order.

"'Sup" Eve said as she strode up next to the golden eyed patron. "Mind if I share a drink? Mr. Abrasive over there doesn't seem to be here for simple drinks and relaxations."

* * *

Interaction tag: @Jevi

Edited October 4 by Wulfrin

[Heimdall 0]

H E I M D A L L the watcher Spoiler notes: none Heimdall, Lvl 1 | HP: 20 | EN: 20 | DMG: 1 | MIT: 20 | ACC: 0 | EVA: 0 equipped battle-ready inventory Vanity Straight Sword [ EQUIPPED ] Vanity Shield [ EQUIPPED ] Starter Heavy Armor | Rare T1 Heavy Armor | MIT II [ EQUIPPED ] None skills Spoiler | UTILITY Gathering: None | 0/0 EXP  | COMBAT None | WEAPON None | ARMOR Heavy Armor I |  Passive | +8 MIT when equipped with Heavy Armor | 4 SP | EXTRAS None buffs Spoiler | PARAGON REWARDS None | BUFFS None

Seedy taverns like this one offered a lot of things. A high chance of catching an acute illness for one. But, that wasn't exactly what Heimdall was looking for tonight. Or ever. Could you even get sick in Aincrad? That would have to be a question for that weird black-haired kid who'd help him out earlier. He would know, hopefully. That 'weird black-haired kid' was Koga. And Koga did not know either.

In any case, Heimdall was somewhat of a frequent flyer at this particular seedy tavern, for no other reason than the fact their non-alcoholic ale was pretty damn good. Why they didn't sell the real stuff, Heimdall didn't know. Did anywhere in Aincrad have real alcohol? He probably should've found that out before venturing out into the forests for the past however many years. Fun fact, wrestling bears is not a valid strategy to farm experience points.

Anyways, who cared that he wasn't getting drunk. Heimdall was having a great time. The music was going, the tavern was unusually packed and...

Heimdall spewed the ale he'd been drinking all over the poor bartender. 'Holy shit.' The man's jaw practically dropped to the floor, so in shock, he hardly noticed the fact that his cursor had momentarily flickered orange. Was that?

There was no mistaking the silvery hair though. Or the green eyes that sat down only a couple seats away from him next to a rugged looking lady. Except...He didn't remember tattoos? Had the last bear knocked him on the head or something?

No, she definitely hadn't had tattoos. Bummer...

Feeling dejected, Heimdall went back to his ale, markedly less jubilant, before spitting it out (again at the poor bartender). Wait! Hadn't she just been wearing different clothes? And where'd the tattoos go? Heimdall looked behind him.

Nope, still there.

To the front? Yes. Also still there...and that was definitely her. No doubt about it. The soft curve of her jaw. The glittering eyes.

Heimdall gathered his jaw off the floor again, took another swig of ale (this time not spitting it on the bartender), and stood up, and began to walk over to the woman.

Except that the ale, not being alcoholic, meant it made for really piss poor liquid courage, and so by the time Heimdall had made his way over to the woman, towered over her really, he'd been reduced to a hesitant mess. His mouth opened and closed several times before it finally managed to make a sound. "H-hey?"

Very confident. Good job Heim, you're doing great.

@Knightmare

Edited October 7 by Heimdall

[Knightmare 0]

Knightmare tilted her head back, finishing the last of her martini in a swift but graceful motion. The glass, leaving her hand with a soft clink as she set it onto the bar, her intense emerald hues boring holes into the man's face, who had his attention set on her sister. He who just insulted her sister. The innocent atmosphere that surrounded her vanished as she took the olive from the glass, placing it between her lips. For a moment, she twirled it in her mouth before crushing it between her pearly whites. She made quite the performance for whoever might be watching the three of them. 

She motioned with one delicate finger to the bartender, batting her eyes as if signaling to him that she was in need of another martini. Though she was seething with anger, her face remained angelic with a slight smirk that graced her soft red lips as she spoke in a soft tone to the man. "I thought you were interesting at first. But the ceaseless dribble that came out of the hole in your head seems to have proved me otherwise. All words, no actions. It's a wonder you've survived thus far." She began channeling the rage her sister attempted to teach her all those years ago. "I am so glad that for the first time in my life, I have been proven wrong about a person." As the bartender refilled her drink, she gave him a wink. "Thank you honey." She turned her attention back to Corvo. "Although, men who use words like yours are usually compensating for something. Most likely in their lower parts. I'm not interested in your false persona." Once again taking the olive from the drink and toying with it between her lips, before eating it and turning away from him. 

As Knightmare turned away from Corvo, heading toward her sister, she collided with what felt like a wall, but not just any wall. This one was firm, unyielding, and very much alive. A muscular wall. Before she could process what happened, a familiar voice broke the silence with a hesitant, "H-Hey?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Who... She looked up, her eyes widening as they met the unmistakable blue gaze of the man before her. Not a single drop of her martini had spilled, but everything else around her seemed to stop.

"Teddy? Is that you!?" she gasped, her voice filled with disbelief and joy. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly, her face pressing against his chest. His warmth, his scent, it was all so familiar, so comforting. She clung to him for a moment longer before pulling away, her hands quickly reaching up to cup his cheeks. She gently squished them, bringing his face closer to hers, making sure it was really him, like she couldn’t believe her own eyes.

"I tried adding you, but I kept getting your name wrong," she admitted, her voice laced with sadness. "I thought I’d never see you again." Her emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked deeply into his striking blue ones, her emotions laid bare for him to see. For a brief moment, it felt like no time had passed between them, as if they were the only two people in the world.

[Corvo 0]

God.

One leg over the other, his foot hung limp and toes flicked from side to side as the two women unloaded on him. He stared at the empty drink glass after polishing off the liquid within, lifting it to examine it with one eye closed. God damn it, they have inflated self-esteem and get easily offended. They're the most annoying kind of bitches. Corvo exhaled loudly as he was told to "tread lightly." "I'm gonna stop you right there, lady," he said, thrusting out a hand as KnightinGale started to prattle off her indignation and indicated that the other girl had 'claimed' him. "You're talkin' a whole lot for someone who got asked a simple question. Got it, yer name's Lady of the Night or whatever. That's enough for me." She said some other stuff- Corvo had given up on trying to pay attention. His jaw hung open in a slight drawl as he turned his gaze to the other one, after her sister had extricated herself from the situation.

Claimed, huh? Yeah, no. I don't belong to anyone, especially not this fuckin' game.

He'd frankly lost interest almost immediately, but the chaos that followed his initial engagement was fantastic. So few opportunities existed in this world to really engage with good, ol' fashioned drama. "Lady, I walked up to you and tossed out a one liner, then you tried to get all complicated. That ain't my problem." He lifted his pipe up, took a long drag, and exhaled a long plume of smoke into the woman's face. "Your opinions are just like everyone else's- you all got 'em, and none of 'em make no matter to me."

So quick to give up, to walk away, to cast stones and shun a man because they didn't like what he had to say. Corvo knew the type. He'd always known them- and at one point in his life, he'd even been one of them. They were the kind of people who bored him most in the world. Both women walked away, toward the bar, and both engaged with other patrons. Corvo shook his head, smiled, and leaned back in his seat with both elbows draped over the chair behind him. "What was it dad used to say...?" he asked rhetorically, staring at the ceiling through the haze spiraling upward from his nostrils.

"Ah yeah... love it when the trash takes itself out."

 

[Jevi 0]

Picking her chin up from her drink, she met the emerald gaze of one of the twins as they approached from the other side of the bar, a fading sense of disgust melting off of her face. Guess Mr.Blonde wasn't scoring twins after all. A soft exhale of a chuckle shot out her nostrils. Supposedly the platinum haired woman decided that Jevi was worthy enough to be her next drinking partner. Gesturing an open palm towards the patron-less stool beside her, she offered a crack of a smile up the newcomer "Sure, why not."  

Looking past the woman as she sat down beside her, she locked in on the progress that guy was making with the other of the twins - and she wasn't looking too happy either. Ouch, 0 for 2. And her attention on that affair was lost, and directed right back to her new friend. "Damn, don't think I've ever seen a guy get rejected by two girls in such a short time span" she sucked her teeth, "Guess blondie isn't all that, huh?"  Raising a glass to her lips, she took a sip of her tequila drink. 

Jevi took in the appearance of her drinking partner. She was taller than her by a few inches, a long silver ponytail cascading down her back. Smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, a classic combination - albeit not necessarily a pleasant one. Jevi would clear the tickle in her throat before it turned into a cough. The piece of art that adorned her fair arms is what caught her attention the most. It was not often that Jevi stumbled upon a player with a tattoo, but when she does it reminds her of how much she regretted that hesitation of getting one in the real world, before SAO. Always an excuse to not make the appointment, despite having the money saved, and all the free time to make the trip. "Your ink is amazing." she would say as she slowly leaned her torso to the side to get a better look. "Did the headset scan that in with your body, or did you find someone to do it here?"