[F02-PP] Coruscating Winds of Change <<Feeding Your Enemy>>

[Freyd 0]

Standing in Urbus' central plaza, Freyd found himself captive to the first shop window he encountered.  Not because of the splendid assortment of foodstuff behind the glass. Guaranteed to be savored and satisfy, under any other circumstances, he simply had no appetite. Nor did the stranger looking back. It moved as he moved, wore a semblance of recognition, yet wasn't the same.  It spoke volumes that a man who could change his appearance on a whim could be so perplexed by the transformation wrought at Callisto's clawed hand.  Fitting that a raid boss named after a cursed nymph, herself turned into a bear, should be the agent of his own transfiguration.  Pulling off a heavy gauntlet, he ran his fingertips over newly grown facial hair, then through the same unruly crop atop his scalp.  Mostly faded to arctic white, veins of grey and strands of black still lingered within, if anyone was persistent enough to hunt for them.

Persistence.

A pang ripped through the Whispers body at her name.  He'd already checked every menu, every subroutine, even scouring the full extent of his expansive inventories on the off chance that she might be buried somewhere.  Nothing. Vaunted tracking skills fared no better.  The irksome little mongoose had simply ceased to exist.

How?  Why?!  What happened?

Eyes flitting about found no answers and no sanctuary within which they might settle a shaken spirit.  The shopkeeper, spotting him staring with uncertainty, wandered out to her doorway with concern.

"Is everything alright, sir?"

Blue eyes, faded from fatigue, focused on her bleary form.  He couldn't even pretend to say yes.  Wiping hands caked with flour and bits of nuts, she squeezed his arm and begged him to wait a moment.  He hardly felt her through the armor, and his mind was too lost in space to even register her words.

"Here.  Take this.  I use it to feed the birds in the square when I need some time and space to think."

"Elora."  Blurting out the name was all he could manage, but it somehow seemed to be enough.

"Sounds like someone important to you," the woman replied, patting him on the shoulder. "Take those.  Go see her, if you can.  Maybe she can help?

Walking to the edge of the High Fields of Crossing, his heart numb and shoulders heavy with the weight of thinking through what had transpired, Freyd knew he had no answers.

"It's still there."  A heavy sigh of relief caused him to collapse and take a knee at the cliffs' edge, tension bleeding from his frame at the sight of the home he and his beloved had built. Elation momentarily replaced his persistent malaise and disorientation. Witherwind Rest still stood, nestled in the valley near the region's edge, though the rush of water from nearby waterfalls obscured more than glimpses of it in their mist.  Having no idea what signals might have been sent by the system in the wake of the raid's bizarre events, it only just occurred to him to send word.  Please tell me she hasn't been fooled into imagining the worst...

To : Elora From: Freyd Raid's done. Heading home now.  See you shortly. Love, Freyd

Sending the missive and beginning his descent, Freyd had no doubt that the conversations to follow would not be so brief.

****

Freyd obtains Familiar Food from the shopkeeper.

@Elora

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 consumes:

Spyglass - https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/20786-general-merchant/?do=findComment&comment=640849
Sweet and Sour Licorice Bites | Tierless Perfect Snack | LD III | 223577g + [Filled]
Deliberate | +1 CD | 235929
Ghost Treat | 203365
Extracted Perfume | Pheromone | 148617-1

Freyd | HP: 1300/1300 | EN: 162/162 | DMG: 21 | MIT:127 | ACC:1 | AA | TAUNT | F-SPIRIT | EVA:1 | BH:72 | VAMP-D: 72 | VAMP-O: 143 | PARA-V | LD:13

Spoiler

Name: Freyd, Kuro bara no kishi
True Tier: 18
Level: 34
Paragon Level: 143
HP: 1300/1300
EN: 162/162

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 127
Accuracy: 4
Evasion: 2
Battle Healing: 72
Loot Die: 9+3
Stealth Rating: -5
AA
TAUNT
VAMP-D: 72
VAMP-O: 143
PARA-V

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - Veritas | T4 Katana) | AA, PVO I, VO I, Taunt
Armor/Trinket: 
  - Negare Omnia | T4 HA | MIT III | VD I
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - Small Konpeito Sack | T1 Trinket | LD III, QTY I

Combat Mastery:
  - Combat Mastery: Damage R3

Combat Shift:
  - AOE Shift

Familiar Skill:
  - [Inaccessible]

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
  - Lock Picking R1
  - Quick Change
  - Searching R4

Extra Skills:
  - Disguise
  - Survival
  - Leadership R5

Inactive Extra Skills:
  - Forgotten King's Authority
  - Meditation
  - Lady Luck
  - Photosynthesize
  - Brawler
  - Assault Mode
  - Frozen Hide

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

Mods:
  - Detect
  - Night Vision
  - Emergency Recovery
  - Impetus
  - Inspiring Speech
  - Rally
  - Tracking

Inactive Mods:
  - Press the Attack
  - Steadfast
  - Elusive

Battle Ready Inventory:
  - Bear Trap (Reusable 1/combat) x1
  - 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
  - Night Shades | T3 Trinket | ACC III | EVA I
  - Rhino's Horn (Reusable 1/combat) x1
  - Samael's Pride | T4 Katana | FLN II | HLY II  x1
  - Teleport Crystals x7

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:
Guild Hall Buffs: [Firm Anima]
  - Guild Hall I: Allows a Guild the ability to create one Guild Quest. Narratively, it also allows players to teleport back to the Guild Territory when using Teleport Crystals.
  - Storage Vault: Allows a guild to create a Storage Vault in their Guild Page. Members can use this thread to store and withdraw items. Any items that have trading restrictions cannot be moved to a Storage Vault.
  - Trading Hall III: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (9+ 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 +5 crafting/identification attempts per day. Appraisers gain an initial additional reroll per identified item at no cost.
  - Treasury: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.
  - Laboratory I: Once per charge, when receiving single-use consumables from Quest Rewards, if a Guild Treasurer were to receive additional tokens, one guild member may claim 1 x (Additional Token / 2) copies of the consumable.
  - Bureau II: Once per charge, if two or more Guild members are present in a thread, allow two dungeons to be spawned/explored in that thread, regardless of Dungeon-searching cooldowns. This buff may only apply once per thread.
  - Library I: Once per charge, if a Storyteller is eligible to claim a Guild Token, their character gains +10% bonus EXP at the end of the thread. This buff may only apply once per thread.
  - Armory II: Once per charge, players may submit a Skill Refund evaluation regardless of the 30 day cooldown window. In addition to Armory buffs, when submitting a Skill Refund evaluation, guild members have the option to pay an additional Token to refund up to 30 additional SP.
  - Menagerie III: Guild members undertaking <<Feeding Your Enemy>> gain +1 LD to familiar searching rolls and +1 to familiar taming rolls. In addition to Menagerie II buffs, the maximum number of familiars guild members can tame narratively is five (5). Guild officials may also appoint a familiar mascot, shared between their guild members to accompany them narratively in their threads.
 

Scents of the Wild Totem:
  - Yamata no Orochi

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

 

Edited January 5 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫

 

For days, the constant pings of pointless notifications had eaten away at her. The longer she'd waited to hear from Freyd, the more restless she had become. Every obsessive visit to her menu, every hopeful glance at the sender's username, had paired with another shattered expectation. That was, until...

Elora was out of her seat in a matter of seconds. Finally --, she breathed a sigh of relief as lingering nervous energy swelled within her, He's alive -- "They did it!", she found herself rejoicing to no one in particular, her hands balling up into fists of victory. Borris, a small rock familiar that Elora wore over her wrist, gave a supportive squeeze in celebration.

"I need to get ready -- I think --", she stammered as energy overloaded her capacity to act, "I should brush my hair -- change into something nice? No, he won't be gone much longer -- will he?"  Confused steps carried her first toward the bedroom, then the kitchen. "What if he's hungry? Should I make him something to eat? A warrior's meal or something -- what's his favorite dish??" Options stumbled through her mind like a slot machine barreling toward a mismatched outcome, even worse -- the dubious sway of a wasted bloke making a break for the furthest bathroom stall. 

RICE!, her conscious finally decided with the conviction of screeching tires. "Shit -- I gotta make rice! Rice from the greenhouse -- I have time to grab some!"

Rushing out toward the gardens, she'd nearly missed the glint of something bobbing near the property's outskirts. Eyes snapping to survey the shiny distraction, an accompanying hand raised to block the sun's beams from obscuring her vision. Slow observation distinguished dark armored plating, their occupant dawning a head of...White hair...?, thought Elora confusedly, What's...Kil doing here...?" 

Momentary concern became vignetted by a barrage of questions. Is he...here to visit? Why didn't he message me first? Does Freyd know he's...? As the person drew nearer, her thoughts transitioned from complete befuddlement to an uncanny recognition. He walks just like...

"...Freyd?", Elora called out, her voice made louder to accommodate for the distance that remained between them.

Clanking metal echoed from within the canyon's cliffs, their cold, accursed chorus now the heartwarming anthem of a loved one returned from war. Before she could think, her heels had carried her forward, her heart aching to reconnect with the other it had scarcely lost.

"FREYD!!", she cried again, this time with giddy enthusiasm.

Unruly hair draped loosely down Elora's shoulders, the makings of her usual armor replaced by the fabric of an oversized shirt. A reunion begged no time to conceal what she'd worn in his absence. It seemed that had proven true in both of their cases. 

Finally reunited beside the gate to their home, arms shot outwards to sling around his neck. 

"Welcome home!!", she greeted him with glee.

 

***

Elora | HP: 760/760 | EN: 110/110 | DMG: 21 | MIT:78 | ACC:5 | AA | EVA:1 | BH:38 | REC: 4 | FLN: 8 | BLI: 32/-20 | STC: 40 | LD:2

Spoiler

Name: Elora
True Tier: 5
Level: 33
Paragon Level: 15
HP: 760/760
EN: 110/110

Stats:
Damage: 21
Mitigation: 78
Accuracy: 5
Evasion: 1
Battle Healing: 38
Loot Die: 2
Stealth Rating: -2
AA REC: 4
FLN: 8
BLI: 32/-20
STC: 40

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket:
- Essential Verdigris (T4 Dem Polearm | AA | BGT | FLN | STC)
Armor/Trinket:
- Defense Mechanism (T4 Dem LA | MIT 2, REC 2)
Shield/Armor/Trinket:
- Emerald (T4 Dem Trinket | ACC 3, EVA 1)

Combat Mastery:
- Combat Mastery: Damage R3

Combat Shift:
- AOE Shift

Familiar Skill:
- Scouting Familiar

Custom Skill:
-

Skills:
- Battle Healing R5
- Charge
- Energist
- Light Armor R5
- Polearm R5
- Searching R2

Extra Skills:
- Concentration

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:
- Focus
- Precision
- Resolve
- Stamina

Mods:
- Meticulous

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:
- T1 Healing Potion x5
- T1 Overhealth Potion x5
- Teleportation Crystal 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:

Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:

 

Edited January 10 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Eyes instantly locked upon the distant source of her voice, Freyd felt his spine melt at the sound.  Joyful.  Happy.  Not what he would have expected if the worst of his fears had manifest and she'd somehow thought him dead.  Relief palpably swept through every inch of his exhausted form, draining away unspoken tension and lifting his heart with a warmth that the raid and subsequent floor had fought hard to smother.  

"FREYD!!"

Hair like a verdant wave spreading out in the wake of her passage, she ran out to greet him in the coziest of cozy tops, surreptitiously borrowed from his closet.  The same one she often wore to keep away the cold while lovingly cuddling up against him by the hearth. It was a conscious effort to leave it out deliberately for her convenience, given his own meticulous nature. Feeling through memory the warming tenderness of that embrace, Freyd found his footfalls increasing to a flat out run.  As her arms wrapped their blessings around his neck, his own wound themselves around his woman's slender waist and pressed her close, just to make sure she was real.

"Welcome home!!", she greeted him with glee.

Burying his face in her embrace, clinging to every scent and sensation that made her who she was, Freyd clenched his eyes closed to keep everything he'd been feeling from spilling out at once.  That same hint of mint mixed with the freshness of morning dew together with his own sweat and a deluge of built up tears waiting to burst the dam.  Armor disintegrated from around his frame - was he taller - replaced by a more casual dark grey haori over a storm blue kimono. Both matched and drew attention the changes: a thin black beard with hints of grey hiding careworn lines drawn deeper into his face, not to mention the contrasting head of white hair variegated with hints of black and grey playing upon the edges.  He looked older, like life had both taken a toll yet also granted its wisdom by the same hand.

"It's me."  Spoken to address the questions forming behind her eyes.  "And it's no trick of skill or light."  She could see the truth of it in his eyes, and only then come to realize the absence of armor something small and skittish should have made her appearance.  Water pooled around the downturn of his eyes, lips pursing for his fallen friend yet conflicted by the jumble of joy and other emotions whirling at having her safe and sound in his arms.

"Did you feel anything while I was away?  Get any systems notifications or have anything happen to the house?"  Not daring to let her go, just yet, he swept Elora into his arms and carried her towards their Witherwind, lips meeting hers before she could even answer.  He'd waited too long to taste the sweet succor that made everything else fall to the background, even if only for a little while.

Edited December 26, 2024 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

"I know...", she softly assured as a curious hand traced the edges of his jaw, her thumb pressing back hairs to glimpse the corners of a frail smile. Reaching back further, she pushed past the folds of his cowl to offer a congratulatory pat to... Oh, Persi's not here., thought Elora, She must be off exploring someplace...? Sights lifted to interlock with Freyd's as his features slowly sunk into a somber disposition. Behind the fading mirth of those pale blue orbs, she swore she could watch the spirit of something...breaking within him.

Unburdened from all of his armor, yet carrying the weight of a loss so much heavier, Freyd appeared more fractured now than she had ever seen him. Gone was the pride of a well-earned victory, absent the playful demeanor she had come to associate with him. Instead, he appeared completely exhausted, on the brink of fighting back tears. 

"Freyd...", she began before his arms had suddenly lifted her into the air.

"Did you feel anything while I was away?", he posed the question to curtail her rising concern, "Get any systems notifications or have anything happen to the house?" 

Notifications?, her mind began, its audit prematurely cauterized by the heat of a kiss. Elora found herself clinging tightly to his neck, her worries suspended in a moment of pure passion as he carried her to their house. Wispy green and gray hairs draped to rest between them, her lips struggling to bid purchase behind the interference of those and other haphazardly-curling facial hairs.

Finally reaching the threshold of their door, she pulled herself back from his fervent embrace. "Freyd, I --", she gasped to chase after her breath and whatever else she had meant to answer. "Everything's fine...", she quickly insisted, "you don't need to worry, please --" Doting eyes were eclipsed by a serious expression as her hand rose to intercept the path of another kiss. "Turn that analytical mind of your's off for just a second -- what happened out there? Are you...", she trailed off before asking,

"What happened?"

 

[Freyd 0]

"Everything's fine...you don't need to worry, please --"

Relief.  Indescribable elation as those words reached his ears and bled away the terror of what Cardinal might have inflicted by sheer force of doubt and uncertainty.  Had Elora's obliviousness somehow insulated her from its tells, or had nothing rippled its way out from the turbulence of the raid?  It doesn't matter.  She didn't have to endure a harrowing.  That's all that matters.  She's safe.  She was spared the agony I thought I'd caused.

"Turn that analytical mind of your's off for just a second -- what happened out there? Are you...", she trailed off before asking, "What happened?"

Water pooling in his eyes, a tide of dread repelled, reflected hers in the same light they'd both experienced at the Eyvinsung.  Lips warbling like those of a child caught in an outpouring of emotions that threatened to overwhelm, it took him several seconds just to dare enough to part his lips.  More, to structure the fragmentary words floating within and struggling to bind.  When one finally emerged, it sounded hoarse and parched, like the effort had drained him of essence or vitality.

"Wulfrin." 

Speaking the name, like some sacred admission, nearly tore his heart to pieces as the memory that drove his choice replayed itself in his mind's eye.  His friend, doe-eyed at the realization of the risk he'd just exposed himself to.  Dawning awareness of manifesting fate, or ill fortune, at the hands of a raid boss - the very picture of lethality in a cruelly unjust world.  A choice laid in his hands. The harshest and most difficult of choices.  Break the heart of his beloved, or his friend's?  Ciela's jubilant laughter rung in memory, the images of his own hand placed over theirs as he bound them to each other.  Him?!  He'd felt an honored fraud and charlatan performing the act, yet wholly blessed by their trust and eagerness.  Merest hours had passed since that moment, fast forwarded to the young groom's life fainting within reach of his fingertips.  

"He's alive.  Spared."  Still struggling to keep composure, the words were more curt and uncertain than she'd ever heard him speak, laden with ominous overtones.  "I... I managed to reach him, just in time.  But, at a cost."

Flinching involuntarily at the recollected flash, the searing pain and sinking of giant rotting claws and decaying teeth into digital flesh.  No algorithm could spare anyone those sensations.  Even if the nerves were dulled entirely, the mind knew and would provide for itself what it should have felt.

"I... think I died..."

[Elora 0]

Elora squirmed her way out of Freyd's dreamy embrace as avoidant stoicism began to falter. For as much as she wished to savor the sweetness of their reunion, she understood what a moment like this demanded of her.

No -- not what it demanded of her, but what she would demand of herself. In countless interactions past, Freyd had lent her an ear to listen, extended a hand to hold, given her a shoulder to cry on. How long had he meant to go on, carrying the burdens of others to the complete and utter detriment of himself? How long would he continue still...cherishing that servitude, honoring his commitment to rescue anyone, no matter the cost?

As he croaked out the name of his surviving comrade, Elora slung an arm around his waist, the other lifted to cradle his head against her own. Bittersweet tears welled within her eyes as she became captivated by the beauty of it all. How beautiful he was...

If only I can be...even a fraction of what he is to me..., she thought with forced conviction. The briefest flash of her former self insisted that she didn't deserve him. That none of them deserved him.

Freyd had taught her better than that.

"It's ok...", she softly stated. Spoken carefully, the phrase conveyed no dismissal of his feelings, no false promise of a rapturous remedy. Elora understood all too well the importance of allowing emotions to flow through oneself. Avoiding their causation, sequestering their presence, did little to heal an aching heart. Wrapping her arms tightly, fervently around him, she drew him nearer still. What more could she offer to someone who had given so much? Reassurances felt feeble and seemed so misplaced.

With a silent, steady sway, she guided them away from their door toward the rugged foundation of cobblestones below. Held together by a network of concrete, each disparate stone and its fractured pieces remained fused, resolute in their purpose of persisting as one. In spite of everything he had witnessed, every excruciating sensation he had endured, Freyd had made it home to her.  No words could describe such true, tempered strength; no embrace a measured repayment of its unwavering support. Instead, she would offer him the same grace once afforded to her, the recognition of a battle well-fought, its honor, the release from his obligations.

"Let it all out", she gently consoled.

[Freyd 0]

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫

Watching her unfurl from his grasp, Freyd was unaccustomed to such certainty entrenched behind her warm, watering, empathic eyes.  A rose in bloom, shedding away the detritus of past wrongs to stand proudly for herself - for who she wanted to be. Elora was magnificent.  Gently trapping him between her fingertips in a way that he could never voluntarily escape, his heart melted as surely as it wanted to break.

"It's ok...", she softly stated. 

No... anything but that...and yet...

Not what he expected to hear.  Not from her, given her history and staunchly set ways.  Where was the self-castigation, the avoidance or withdrawal?. Where were Elora's tells, as reliably predictable as the sun's setting to hide away from pain?  Nowhere to be found, apparently, which only made his sense of betrayal worse.  Though tears to match her own welled in the corners of his eyes, these were tears of joy, for all she had accomplished to reach this point.

"You're just amazing.  Did you know that?"  Callused tips belonging to long, spider-like fingers swept water from the corners of her eyes, tracing fleeing rivulets down along the framing the edges of her face.  Thumbs pressed softly to her chin, he guided her liquid passions there, to him. 

With gleaming confidence and sympathy, she led him to the edge of the memorial pools, her figure swaying like an angel among wisteria's dancing to her passage and the breeze.  Beads of mist played and gather across salvation's features, casting themselves upon her stunning grace - which he had nearly, foolishly discarded.

"Let it all out", she gently consoled.

Swallowing hard, the steely backbone of resolve that had carried him relentlessly forward was still there, keeping him from crumbling completely.  This wasn't about choices.  He'd made his and come to terms with its personal consequences long ago, or so he thought.

"No tank takes on the role without accepting its potential outcome." Reiterating his own words, they still resonated with truth.  His convictions had held.  But, they always did, didn't they?  They were never the issue.  It was the sudden consideration of cost and consequences that were new, and both options had been god-awfully bad. Moral dilemma was still a shiny new concept, and this one was a doozy for a newbie.

"Callisto - the boss - was going to kill him.  It had Wulfrin dead to rights - the template ready to mount his name on the monument, and everything.  I couldn't let it happen.  I didn't think..."

Guilt forced his eyes closed again, shame eating away the edges of his soul for what he'd done, or nearly done, or both.  Probably both.

"Somehow, I placed myself between them.  It shouldn't have been possible, but I did, then felt the…”

Pulling back the edge of his storm cloud haori, snaring the blue grey waves of kimono beneath, the pale flesh beneath still shone with spectral scars of the massive clawed hands that had done the deed. Skin unmarred, he felt the wounds nonetheless, like they would be there forever.  He'd paid for that moment with age, and the corresponding loss of innocence now reflected in his changed appearance.  Freyd felt older, more worn.  Weathered.

“All I saw was a flash.  There was a hum, like the dying ambient charge of a monitor being turned off, the last potential energy ebbing from its circuits and fading.  That should have been it.”

Silence.

“Then, a breath.  Sight marred by blinding chaos and a shift in perspective.  Senses assaulted from all sides with confusion.  I was twenty feet from where Wulfrin had slumped to his knees, still seeing the shards of… me… fading into nothingness.  The rest.. well, we won.  How doesn’t really matter, save that it confused the hell out of a lot of people.”

Gazing at his reflection in the pool, Freyd’s eyes closed, his shoulders at odds with themselves trying to decide whether to stand proud or utterly collapse.

“I don’t regret trying to save a man’s life," he confided, as much to himself as to Elora.  "But, I also don’t know how to deal with having to choose between consigning you or Ciela to dealing with the death of a loved one.”

Tell her…

“And, I’m ashamed that I chose to save a friend instead of choosing to come back to the woman who means more to me than the world itself.”

Edited December 31, 2024 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

♫ The Hand of Fate ♫

 

A trembling hand raised to cover Elora's mouth as she stared crestfallen at the haunting claw marks. Scars carved so broadly across his body she could hardly imagine its remains. Anything indicative of Freyd would have been lost to a corpse maimed beyond recognition. Shrill whimpers mourned the scene of his demise, her pain scarcely disguised beneath the veil of a palm. A sharp drawing in of her breath could not recall the tears that were pouring from her face. Grief beckoned her to tear her sights away from him, to deny confrontation with a reality too gruesome to come to terms with. Instead, she found herself immobilized by a gripping fear, a sinking terror that if she abandoned him now, there would be nothing left to return to. 

“All I saw was a flash...", he began to describe, "There was a hum, like the dying ambient charge of a monitor being turned off, the last potential energy ebbing from its circuits and fading."

Memories of her own demise at The Storm's behest coursed through her, flooding slumbering synapses like a sudden spell of deja vu. She could recall every sensation, feel them submerging her body. Coldness, stinging, asphyxiation. Then, a numbing rush of dread as the final traces of hope were forcibly extinguished. Elora had been made to spectate all of her failures. Every part of her she desperately tried to reject, every potential future she had inevitably fucked up.

Except...she had survived to experience that very future. In the wake of indescribable suffering, she had been given another chance, the gift to continue living. Is it possible to mourn the loss of something that is yet to come...?, she found herself asking. Years flowed by as she continued to write her story. Through daily efforts to become that idealized self, she had undertaken new responsibilities, confronted the shadows of her own past, allowed herself to be loved by the people she treasured most. How many more adventures would she truly taste...how many more tomorrows could they hope to go on living?

"...I’m ashamed that I chose to save a friend instead of choosing to come back to the woman who means more to me than the world itself.”, Freyd softly spoke.

On the not-so-distant horizon, death loomed like an all-consuming wall of darkness behind their celestial dance. Encroaching and inevitable, it would seldom claim them both. There was an unspoken comfort in the delusion of that unified departure. Surely, two souls bonded in life would make their exit much the same. They both understood the folly of that wish, lamented in the harrowing loss of that fated separation. When the other had vanished completely, there would be nothing left but the brightest and darkest memories of times once shared; the minutia of what transpired in between lost to the static of a faintly-held impression fading into bitter obscurity. What was left of the future would remain unwritten, resigned to a figment of what would never be.

Pleading gasps dissipated like the ghosts of false assurances, her throat constricting as she struggled to digest the impermanence of it all. With a shaking hand, she retraced the edges of his jaw. Her eyes affixed on each detail, she seemed to search his features, study every blemish and contour of his face. How could she hope to memorize the smile lines of a man who was ever-changing?

"If not by your hand, then by whose...?", she barely managed to speak, a faint smirk curling from the corner of her lip. "Never be ashamed of who you are, or for the action you take, Freyd. You are so brave, and so selfless...", she trailed off, swallowing dryly, "You are -- the most important part of life. The reason I have kept on living, the reason I will continue to --" 

Another pang of despair.

"My greatest sadness will be an absence of you.", she sincerely admitted.

Edited January 1 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Tension wondrously bled from burdened shoulders with the subtlety of a rooftop ripped from a barn amidst a cat five hurricane.  She'd never seen him caught so completely and utterly off guard, brows arched to buttress the heavens as his eyes widened with the child-like awe at being confronted with the purest essence of epiphany.  In an instant, with a word and a gesture, she'd banished every stalwart guilt arrayed by his own somber sorrows against himself.  Of all the possible outcomes forecasted for such a heavy and dreaded conversation, this one never even appeared on his seemingly inexhaustible  list of mental machinations.  He never saw it coming, which only made it that much more delightful.

"Did you just...?" 

Outer edges to careworn eyes eased their creases upon witnessing the fulfillment of a dream.  Lips parting, the slightest breath drawn at her meaning and the openness of her admission.  He'd grown so used to seeing the monster in himself that her vision was a gift resplendent in its giving and reflected at him in her eyes.  Of all things, he laughed.  Not some mocking, sinister, mean-spirited cackle, but the heartfelt ring of joy of a soul set free of its own fetters.

"How is it that we always see only the best in each other, but never ourselves?"

Raising a hand to tenderly press hers against his face, she saw what he could not bear to see in himself, or knew not where to find. 

"I guess that settles it.  I'm just never allowed to die, right?"  A hint of jest wrapped in admissions that words alone were never enough to convey. 

"I once believed that my sole entire purpose was to beat a brutal path through a cruel world, carving an escape route for others at any limitless cost, treating my own life as expendable fodder to fuel a grueling grind to something someone said mattered.  But someone else showed me how much more reason there is to live.  She's grown so much, blossomed to fulfill the promise of her full potential.  Grown strong, even when she feels most fragile.  Her star grows brighter every time I see it, and scours a little more of my armor away, showing me who I could actually - and want to be, for her."

Breathing deeply, Freyd felt as if the spirit of life itself infused his being with renewed confidence, determination and resolve restoring themselves in the squaring of his jaw and setting of broader shoulders.  Certainty of purpose, that avid compelling fire behind his azure eyes - once cold and callous - now burned with a passion kindled by her faith in him.  And, his faith in her.

"I'm not going anywhere, ever, and I don't care how absurd it is to say it.  You know me. You know I'm stubborn enough to find a way.  And if I can stave off death once, you can be damned sure I'll do it time and time again, so long as it always brings me back... to you."

Edited January 3 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

Taken aback by Freyd's sudden shift from downtrodden despair to uplifted exaltation, Elora cocked her head to the side and stammered, "Just -- what...?"

"How is it that we always see only the best in each other, but never ourselves?", he seemed to ask, almost wistfully.

The final traces of tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared at him confusedly. With a hand lifted to cusp around her own, he stepped closer still. Ensuing admissions did little to dispel an intensifying suspicion that she was somehow misreading the situation. After all, that was hardly a rarity for her. An uncertain mind searched for accidental causation as Freyd continued, "...But someone else showed me how much more reason there is to live. She's grown so much, blossomed to fulfill the promise of her full potential..."

Her gleaming eyes, now strained from crying, darted around to the cadence of a fluttering heart. Somehow, in the unfurling of this moment, she had once again found herself carried away by the changing currents of several conflicting emotions. Vibrant in all their consequence, she witnessed the presence of each, allowed them to course through her. Thoughts that were once so loud and scattered seemed to hush in service of witnessing their song. Although her heart and body remained attuned to the whims of every sensation, she found peace in recognizing her mind's ability to spectate the experience rather than vie for control over it.

"I'm not going anywhere, ever, and I don't care how absurd it is to say it...", Freyd began,"And if I can stave off death once, you can be damned sure I'll do it time and time again, so long as it always brings me back... to you."

Relief dispelled the swirling worry of her possible misunderstandings, hope beckoning her to fall into his touch. Loving arms wrapped around his waist as desire towed him into a passionate kiss. Even if his promises were true, she needed to know his embrace again, feel the electric synergy of another connection shared. In the flurry of oxytocin, a singular thought rose to pervade to above all others, I need to marry this man. 

[Freyd 0]

Catharsis achieved, Freyd's stomach suddenly grumbled loudly in protest, causing the wind to falter in his sails and be replaced by heartfelt chuckling.  Life always found a way to make things real, even when your spirit wanted to soar high into the clouds.  Patting his midsection lightly, he smiled apologetically to Elora, a sheepish blush tinting the parts of his cheeks that could still be seen.

"Sorry.  I don't think I've eaten anything since the raid began... and that seems a lifetime ago."  Corny, yet also vitally important. They needed to be able to trivialize that moment in their memories to offset its more dreary and dour notes. Death's power was always weakest in the face of humour, even if of a darker breed.

"As much as I love the view and the scenery here," implying she alone was the former, "maybe we can move this to the kitchen and grab ourselves a bite?"  The mischief in him desperately wanted to twist those words inside out and expose every potential alternate meaning, but he chose instead to shake them loose and usher them both back up the staircase towards the house. Hand in hand they made their ascent, Freyd splitting his gaze between her and the beauty of their surroundings, feeling utterly blessed by both.

"This really was the perfect spot.  It suits both of us, apart and together, and brings me happiness and calm just by being here, especially with you."  It felt like witnessing a marvel unfold just to hear his voice speaking his heart's whims aloud and so freely.  So unlike his old and other self, yet completely free of of the occluding barriers layered in oblivious cold ignorance accrued after so long.  It felt really good, and made him realize why the pain of loss had felt so poignant in its sting.

"I'll have to go back to floor five, at some point, and bid Persi a proper farewell.  No one's quite been able to tell me what exactly happened to her, but she was gone when I recovered.  All I see in my interface is a blank. All traces of her wiped, and her skills are unavailable.  It's like she somehow never existed." That open admission hurt, a lot, but Freyd consciously chose to celebrate their time together rather than dwelling on her loss.  He'd gathered enough from idle chatter in the raid's aftermath to learn that she had done for him something akin to what he had for Wulfrin. 

"I'm fairly sure that only reason I'm still here has something to do with why she isn't."  His hand gripped hers just a little tighter, the only way he could express the profound depth of that lost connection without re-opening their common waterworks.  Feeling Borris' rough stone surface brace against the brush of his arm brought an added tinge.  Would he, too, miss his friend?

[Elora 0]

"Oh yeah!", Elora exclaimed as if suddenly remembering, "I wanted to have something ready for when you got back -- I completely forgot --!" A derailed sense of urgency towed them both toward the entrance of her greenhouse as she confidently assured, "I should only need to get a few things..." Stepping in to the enclosed garden immediately wafted them with warm air and the comforting aroma of freshly-watered soil. Drawing in a deep breath, Elora basked in the fleeting afterglow of babbling brooks and rolling green pastures. For all those she'd encountered in Aincrad, none had remedied her sense of longing for the Emerald Isle. In all actuality, she hadn't found herself missing her homeland until only recently.

"This really was the perfect spot.", Freyd admired in equal measure, "It suits both of us, apart and together, and brings me happiness and calm just by being here, especially with you."

"Yes", she found herself agreeing, "I don't think I could have imagined a better life --" An unintended admission. She had meant to agree with the location. "I -- I think...", she started her recovery, "I look forward to the day that this doesn't feel like a dream, when I can allow myself to enjoy it fully, knowing it can replace what I used to call home." Or perhaps, that was the issue, attempting to substitute the ambience of a place that would forever remain so completely unique from Witherwind Rest. "Or...not replace", she corrected as they walked, "I want to make new memories with you and establish new traditions."

As they passed by a slew of tools, Elora paused to grab a wicker basket lazily discarded near the site of a well pump. To make boxty I'll need... Instinct directed her to a bed of ripened potatoes. Plucking one plant with a concerted tug of its towering stem, she shook off any residual clumps of dirt before gently placing it into the basket. 

"I'll have to go back to floor five, at some point, and bid Persi a proper farewell...", Freyd began, his voice laden with sorrow, "No one's quite been able to tell me what exactly happened to her, but she was gone when I recovered...I'm fairly sure that only reason I'm still here has something to do with why she isn't."

A subtle motion across her hand signaled Borris's shift over to Freyd's. As a sign of condolence, he rolled across each of their wrists, the pebbles of his body slinking and weaving between their grasp like a sort of ceremonial knot. With a pointed strengthening of her resolve, Elora willed herself to return to her task. Marching between the rows of her garden, she harvested a little of whatever she could find: onions, peas, corn and carrots -- an extensive assortment of herbs. Now was not the time to dwell on familiar fallbacks but to cement the fortified groundwork of days to come. Her left hand strained beneath the weight of the produce, her mind temporarily blind to the utility of inventory consignment.

"Whatever you want do next, wherever we choose to go from here -- we can do it after we've had a proper meal.", she triumphantly declared, "I'm going to make us a shepherd's pie!" Even if I've never tried to before...

Each step toward their front door warranted another careful adjustment as the abundant haul threatened to sever her arm from its shoulder. Almost there., she reminded herself with staggered breaths. By the time they'd reached the entrance, her right foot had begun its wobbly departure from the ground. A moment's hesitation was enough to prompt Freyd to open the door on her behalf. "Oh -- thank you --", she huffed as they nearly walked into a hanging metal horseshoe.

"Careful for that --!", she called as they ducked beneath the suspended charm. Once inside of the house, Freyd bore witness to a myriad of curiosities. Horseshoes and crucifixes crudely nailed above every threshold, rows of colorful crystals lining several windowsills, the reflective surfaces of mirrors and other objects smothered beneath heaps of...unfolded laundry?

"And watch where you step --", she added for good measure, "We shouldn't disturb the pentacle!"

From within a whirlwind of scattered books, spanned a large, pointed symbol, meticulously constructed entirely from salt. Seemingly unbothered by the sight or any of its relevant explanations, Elora shuffled toward the kitchen with another, far greater concern.

 "How should I prepare the potatoes...?", Freyd could catch her mumbling to herself.

[Freyd 0]

A meal?  Huh.  Probably a good idea.

His stomach grumbled again, in gurgly agreement.  Following her lead to the gardens, Freyd marveled at how much they had grown over such a short time.  For one whom some might politely describe as 'distracted', Elora could sure hit her stride when her passions were inflamed.

"I don't think I could have imagined a better life --"

Polite and timely self-distraction spared her any undue embarrassment, but his heart fluttered to hear her say it.  Whether tease or sentimental slip up didn't matter. Instead, Freyd chose to engage with a particularly thorny subject wrapped around a nearby picket, preferring to pretend he’d simply not heard the comment.  He’d promised her space and time, in the sense of patience rather than a conveniently bundled reality.  It was a commitment he fully intended to honor, though parts of him already suspected she’d never tell him outright.  She did like to be chased, after all, and would likely hint at her desires without stating them outright, then eventually get mad at him when he didn’t pick up on the ‘obvious’ signals.  He’d apologize, make her feel extra special with a shower of praise and eventually barter some deal to his significant disadvantage.  This was the dance of courtship - also suspiciously close in style to the pressure tactics of used car salesmen.  Women were just cleverer than men, he concluded.  They’d figured all this out long ago, while his team still struggled to spell 'bewbz' correctly without snickering giggle-fits.  Groan.

"I want to make new memories with you and establish new traditions."

“I’m all for it.  Can’t say I ever really had many of my own, except maybe my visits to Marv.  More a habit than tradition, that.  Hey wasn't that the same wicker basket in my workshop?”

Some primal backwater part of his brain dreaded the possibility that it might carry an envenom enhancement in disguise, but he shoved the dreary thought aside in favour of happier ones. Elora already busied herself gathering mixes of everything from everywhere.  He was still trying to fathom what was what, mending Persi's absence with the help and efforts of Borris, who snared them together in this own special way.  It felt like some wrist-bound pebble hug, yet still strangely sentimental.  The gentle clacking of stone on stone drew Freyd’s attention back to his beloved, her fierce conviction making her all the more surreal and adorable in the greenhouse’s warm, diffusing light. A certain tender haze damping the tips of stray verdant hairs without managing to weight down her spirits.  She looked happy, which meant everything to him.

"Whatever you want do next, wherever we choose to go from here -- we can do it after we've had a proper meal," she triumphantly declared, "I'm going to make us a shepherd's pie!"

Tempting and grateful, he dared not ask where the meat was meant to come from, preferring to trust blindly that she’d made a trip to Urbus in his absence and actually remembered to keep it in her inventory for preservation.

“Are you sure you wouldn't like me to carry that while you collect what you need?”  She was listing ever more to starboard and at risk of capsizing at the rate she was plucking her taters.  Silently, Freyd started clandestinely dispatching ingredients to his own inventory on her behalf, content that he could sneak them back onto the kitchen counter without her noticing.  Arms at their limits, she hauled her cornucopia out and up the flagstone stairs back towards the house. Navigating the narrow path behind, Freyd eventually just slipped through shadow to catch the house door before disaster struck.

"Oh -- thank you --", she huffed as they nearly walked into a hanging metal horseshoe, calling out some abstract warning to a scene for which he was not prepared.

Marveling at the staggering array of superstitious charms strewn all over their living room, Freyd found himself wondering what could possibly have triggered such a bizarre blend of armchair witchery, re-purposed anti-malware commercial shorts and a half dozen other religious works that might get her excommunicated or beatified, possibly both, depending on your beliefs and sect.

“Uh… could you maybe explain?  Are we exorcising particularly aggressive dust bunnies or something?”

Shit.  I still have half her potatoes…
 

Edited January 10 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

"Not dust bunnies -- I think it might be a demon.", she stated matter-of-factly as teetering footsteps carried her around the protective symbol's perimeter, "Or some sort of fae-folk, I'm not sure yet. Probably best not to call each other by our names, just in case --" We'll have to come up with codes names! Unless...do 'Freyd' and 'Elora already count...?

A clumsy procession nearly capsized the poor girl as she fumbled forward and into their kitchen island. With a final heave of effort, she forcefully lugged the basket smushed between her up and over the counter's ledge. 

" I -- ", she began with breaths dramatically staggered, "It started when you were gone -- didn't you ask about the house?" The intrusive thought was disregarded before he could even answer. "Well -- the house is fine, I think -- but I think we got haunted. I don't know how or why -- what I could have brought home with me that it bonded to...Anyway -- so I went out and got all of this.", she said, gesturing vaguely to all around them. "The upright horseshoes are a game-changer, and I think that crystals and salt are supposed to purify or something? Got all the mirrors covered just in case, but I figured I'd also try my luck with crosses."

Too much information., she reminded herself after catching Freyd's glance. It really had felt like forever, waiting for him to return. With a sheepish blush, she withdrew to silence, her hands determined to unload the vegetables with the speed of a salesclerk about to miss the next big match.

Edited January 9 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

Demonic dust bunnies? 

It felt like much was left to unpack there, but he abandoned the thought just to try and keep up.  "Why wouldn't we use our names?!  I thought Fae were more of a floor three thing?  Is the floor above us leaking faerie mojo?!" 

Where is this all going?

"And which names?  Am I supposed to start calling you pooky or something?"  Part of him, hidden behind his chuckles, couldn't help wonder whether this was some elaborate Irish ruse designed to foster the creation of affectionate nicknames.  As much as Elora carried an air of innocence about her, they'd come to know each other too well for him not to recognize the occasional signs of her adorable inner gremlin.  A conscious effort was required to prevent himself from using the very range of names she'd just suggested be avoided.  

"First it was a demon.  Then fae-folk.  Now we're onto hauntings?"  Brows askew as he tried to follow the rapidly shifting basis of whatever might have happened, Freyd helped her steady the basket of goods as she lifted it up to the counter.  Opportunity presented, he also surreptitiously returned the items he'd looted back into the fold in the process. 

"You really don't have a clue, do you?" Bemused, yet curious, something real had to be behind all this.  Was Borris playing games with her?  He didn't really seem the type.  Persi would have absolutely done so, but, well.  Yeah.  

"It really looks like you just took a smorgasbord approach to supernatural wards, hoping something might actually stick. So, what actually happened? All you've told me so far is what you did to offset a thus-far-mysterious mystery."  

He hadn't even noticed the mirrors and horseshoes, and who knows what else.  Taking a moment to approach one of the reflective surfaces, he pull back its improvised curtain only to be stunned by the image awaiting him.

"Holy... is that... me?"

Reflecting pond aside, this was the first time he'd actually gotten a decent look at his own altered appearance, and only reinforced how much the changes were beyond anything of his own initiation.  

***

Familiar automatically found per use of Ghost Treat

Taming familiar | ID 240008 | CD 8+3=11 (success)

Edited January 12 by Freyd

[Elora 0]

As Freyd rambled on about nicknames and smorgasbords, it was evident that Elora had taken his denial to heart. With arms crossed, she appeared to swell with frustration. Arched brows framed the edges of a reddening face as she perched on her toes to bolster her height. "I'm narrowing it down!", she finally insisted with a huff. Her partner appeared to saunter away, whether beckoned by curiosity, or as a means to evade her rising emotion.

"...So, what actually happened? All you've told me so far is what you did to offset a thus-far-mysterious mystery.", he demanded as fingers swept away the coverings of a nearby mirror. Faced with the reflection of himself, she could hear him gasp, "Holy... is that... me?". Footsteps fell quickly behind as Elora dashed to close the distance between them. The projected image contorted before her very eyes, mouth twisting into a cheshire-like grin as darkness seeped into the space around him. In a matter of moments, he had morphed into something monstrous, unrecognizable.

"THAT!", she answered, her body lunging between him and the mirror to sever its link. A sinister hiss crackled from behind her, shadow streaming up to billow toward the ceiling above. Lights surrounding them began to flicker, then dim as the cackle echoed eerily throughout the entryway. Elora's gaze shakily followed the specter's retreat until sinking downward to rest on Freyd.

"Are you ok?", she suddenly asked as concerned hands shot out to grasp the sides of his head.

Edited January 14 by Elora

[Freyd 0]

"Am I okay?  What the fuck was that thing!?"  All things considered, he thought it quite reasonable a question, even if his eyes had widened more than he'd meant and voice cracked awkwardly in the process.  Elora was worried about ghosts and ghouls of a brand you might find in advertisements for children's breakfast cereal, but he'd encountered far worse in this world.  Freyd's version of Aincrad carried perils the likes of which would terrify most players by their horrific natures and motives alike.  Having just come from a newly unlocked floor entirely overcome by nightmares wasn't exactly helping.  And this thing was loose in their house!

"Hang on," he started, his scrambled head yolk struggling to strain itself back out of omelet shape before it fully cooked.  "You said this thing was here before we unlocked the new floor.  So it can't be anything from that level.  It either arrived after I left, or it was already here."  Cupping her hands with his own, she would feel the tension bleed from his features as much as see it in his face.  "Sorry... the new floor.  It's a nightmare.  No NPCs.  No safe zones.  Not even around the teleportation gate.  Please, be extremely careful if you ever travel there.  The raid... the boss we fought seemed to have been corrupted and twisted by some strange madness.  But, this can't possibly be the same thing."  Shaking loose any notions of connection, Freyd tried a different tact instead.  

"I'm fine.  But that thing... when did it start?  Where did you first notice it?  Did you ever get a good look at it?  I barely saw more than some sort of writhing mass of blackness."  Imagination flaring, part of him wondered if Persi had been twisted in some way, but that didn't fit the chronology either - as much as part of him hoped that she could somehow be recovered or redeemed.  Clattering noises echoed from the hallway leading to his workshop.  Who knew what sort of trouble some meddlesome poltergeist could wreak if it got its hands on some the gear he had strewn around in there?

"Follow me!" he barked, racing towards potential danger. "Whatever this thing is, we need to catch it."

Edited Thursday at 03:13 AM by Freyd

[Elora 0]

"What the fuck --?", she gasped in response to all of the information. An entire floor...without safe spaces., it felt necessary to repeat. Still, the concept felt foreign, impossible to digest. How were players meant to navigate an entirely new land without the security of anything to fall back on? Just like how we started., came an unexpected reassurance. She supposed there would always be teleport crystals, at the very least.

Sprinting after him with equal anticipation, she tried to answer his questions. "I don't know exactly -- while you were gone, maybe...halfway into the raid? Toward the end of it all?", her mind raced as they skidded around a corner like the ragtag cast of Scooby-Doo characters. "I haven't seen it -- I don't think. Aside from the mirrors it's mostly been a fleeting presence, shadows out of the corner of my eye --" Creaks and groans reverberated as heels thudded across hardwood floors that buckled from the force of their impact. From below and beside them, she swore that she could hear the sounds of something borrowing into the walls. It was as if a very fat, very drunken rodent, had determined to tunnel through them in pursuit of foodstuffs on the other side. 

"Well, but there's also -- your parts of the house have been acting a little -- weird?", she confessed with a shrill inflection. Reaching the center stairwell, Elora hopped onto the descending banister, gliding across its length with the elegance of dizzy giraffe. Outstretched arms did little to balance her as her spine arched forward and back, threatening to capsize on more than one occasion.

By the time she'd reached the opposing newel post, she had nearly caught up with Freyd. As if by some godforsaken miracle, the protruding woodwork seemed to darken, then melt with the ferocity of a burning candlewick. With an uneventful landing, her imminent demise had been transmuted into a peaceful disembarking. A moment spared to cast a dumfounded stare on the...had it already vanished? Shaking herself from the disturbing illusion, she continued to race after her partner. "There's umm -- there have been a lot of uhh -- glitches.", she tried to explain.

Edited Friday at 01:32 AM by Elora

[Freyd 0]

"Sticking to the shadow, eh?  Good.  That might actually make it easier to spot."  Whoever or whatever this thing was had chosen to conceal itself in that which was brightest and most vivid in his sights, save a certain green beacon whose guiding light had always steered him right.  But she was already visible, having laid herself bare, in heart and soul, beyond anything he might ever have hoped.  Even as Elora followed him into the quaint and cozy depths of their handcrafted home, Freyd scoured every nook, cranny, crack, crevice and hole that might somehow conceal an intruder.  Plumbing the void for clues, he heard echoes of slithering cackles chuffing along between spaces, like it lacked or craved the shelter of shapes not yet found or offered, yet still skulked about searching for an unknown particular.

"Good call," Freyd replied.  She'd see his gaze glancing about in that random way, finding what didn't want to be found.  Even thoughts could occasionally be snared, and, with her help, the occasional feeling.  That last one needed more practice, but he looked strangely forward to the challenge - itself a new and unexpected sensation and source of immense gratitude.

"There's umm -- there have been a lot of uhh -- glitches.",

Spotting his elven beauty playfully sliding her way down the banister distracted him such that he barely noticed the newel change, melting unto the underside of the thick mahogany handhold and schlorping across the stone  of the the basement floor towards the hefty, reinforced door to his workshop.  

"THERE!"

Diving between her legs, his hand snared something slick and wriggly.  The thing eeped and wrung itself free, slapping tentacled limbs loudly as it ambled with disturbing agility and scootched itself through the thin sliver of space under the door.

"Damnit.  Almost had it."  Pressing thumb to index finger confirmed a modestly sticky film that evaporated before his eyes, like the last dregs of moisture on a desert highway baking under the scorching noon sun.  "Yeah.  That's definitely weird."  Regaining his footing, he pointed the way forward, still preferring not to draw his blade.  The shop was too crowded for it, and the tiny creeper-critter could hide almost anywhere inside.  Approaching in silence, thumb depressing the latch, he opened the door to reveal the maelstrom of mess beyond.  Items of infinitely indiscriminate shapes and sizes, loosely strewn and stacked, formed their own unique ecosystem in what the Whisper lovingly called his 'piling system' - pure chaos incarnate, by any other measure and his former shop-tender's decree.

"Yeah.  Let's never tell Quip about this, m'kay? She'd never let me hear the end of it."

[Elora 0]

A fumbled step forward guided one leg up and over Freyd as he slid beneath her. Like the clumsy dance of a overburdened waiter, she pirouetted around his limbs in search of safe footing. The tender embrace of a lime-washed wall broke the momentum of her fall as palms smacked suddenly against its surface.

"Damnit.  Almost had it.", she could hear him exclaim exasperatedly.

Releasing a sigh of relief, she rolled around to regard his predicament. Eyes made landfall on his most favorable features before tracing their way up to study his expression. "Where did it go --?", she asked confusedly, her gaze following his own, "Beneath the door?" Finally approaching his side, she offered him a hand to help him onto his feet. 

Elora gulped nervously as the two of them approached the sealed threshold, spear manifesting into her grasp as a necessary precaution. Raising it in defense, Freyd flung open the door to reveal...another wall? Steady blinks ushered in the slow, deliberate deciphering of what she was looking at. Not an abandoned expansion, nor Winchester influence, but a haphazard horde of trophies and trinkets strewn from floor to ceiling.

"Sweetheart...", she began, taking great consideration not to divulge his name, "I thought you'd left most of this behind at your shop --" Sights scaled the impressive collection in search of anything recognizable. Chaotic and vast in its occupation, it both appeared and smelled like the ink-heavy I Spy books she would scour through as a child. A part of her empathized with that rekindled sense of nostalgia, a hand reaching out to flop affectionately around his shoulder. This could mean a lot to him...I should handle it delicately.

"Well...", said Elora, "Where do you think we should start...?"