[SP-F9] A World in Flames

[Guest]

Darkness greeted him the same way every morning. His eyes opened, unseeing, and his mouth was dry from the heat. A few groggy steps in an indeterminate direction flooded his senses with light. He saw the hazy, blacked out sun that haunted the ninth floor, and he greeted it with a groan.

Producing a ratty looking rag from his inventory, Alkor dabbed the fabric with a slosh of ale that he'd bottled up for safe keeping and pressed it gently to his tongue. Another day spent trapped outside safe zones. Another night denied peace.

Alkor wrapped his arms now with bandages to help keep coarse sand from tearing at his skin, and when he stepped outside the cave that functioned as his sleeping area, he donned a snow white mask that obscured what features his hood did not. Mostly, his new attire was to assist him in dealing with the elements on this floor, but also, the look helped to detach him from those around him. Looking less like a player now and far more the part of a monster, Alkor decided he was content with living on this floor until something more suitable opened up.

Business as a tailor was dead. He couldn't enter the city where his shop was located, and so, it probably rotted just beyond his reach. His newfound profession as a Hunter- a Player Killer who sought out other Player Killers- was just beginning.

He could have spent more time preparing for boss battles, but once he had deleted Lessa from his friends list, Alkor had begun to show his face less and less in social places. A boss battle was something Lessa would doubtless be involved with, and that was practically begging for confrontation. Daeron had been abundantly clear, however- Lessa hated him for making her feel the way she did. Alkor could not blame her, either, because in spite of her good intentions, he had started to hold her childish, selfish ways against her.

Still, that made him little better. Walking away instead of trying to solve anything. Alkor almost felt ashamed, but for the higher calling he'd found. Dangerous people existed in this world, unchecked. He couldn't let something as small as a spat between former friends cloud his reasoning.

The hive he'd found was a series of burnt out buildings that passed for a non-safe town on the ninth floor; far west of Vulcan town, the Outlaw Tavern was a haven for some of the lesser hated scum on Aincrad. With some luck, as he walked into the establishment and felt eyes fall on him from every side, Alkor knew he would find his lead.

Taking a seat at the bar and sliding a few Col in the direction of the innkeeper, the NPC at least started to warm to his presence. Alkor bowed his head and enjoyed the fragile silence. It would not last much longer.

[Guest]

Pale as snow, when his mask pulled away to reveal his face, Alkor placed it gently on the table in front of him. He never once opened his eyes, instead enjoying the flavor of the digital ale that cascaded across his taste buds. It was slightly stronger than normal- an aged, barrel sort of flavor. He made a note of it mentally, then gulped it greedily down. It had been days since his last truly delicious drink.

"You're that kid," remarked an unfamiliar voice that caused Alkor to place his flag on down abruptly. Still, he did not bother to look up. "One of the ones from the boss battle." Alkor's eyes slid slowly open. "But yer cursor's orange. What're you doin' outside the safe zone?"

He held the man in cold regard, eyes locked on those that had only moments before scrutinized him. Alkor felt something break inside the other man. "Hunting," he stated plainly. "Know where I can find some business?"

Most of the orange players out in this area were waiting out the time it took for the ban on entering safe zones to fade. Some of them had connections out further, in the blasted areas, where real red players lurked. All it took was to find the right lead. "Sorry," came the hurried reply, "don't know nothin' about that." In the next breath, the other man leaned in and whispered, "and if you know what's good for you, y'won't ask somethin' crazy like that 'round these parts again, son."

Alkor blinked slowly. "Let's try again," he told the older man, rising slowly from the barstool. His hand fell gently onto the milky white mask on the bar, reclaiming it. Slowly, he slipped it onto his face, allowing his eerie golden gaze to go uncovered for half an instant before the accessory consumed the last of his human features. "Tell me," he said in a muffled, almost mechanical voice, "the last confirmed whereabouts of the red players Vertigo and Haze."

The man stared incredulously at him. "You're looking for those two?" Seeds of confusion had been clearly planted in the elder player, and Alkor tilted his featureless head as he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. "You intend to fight two of the deadlier fellas in the game right now-"

"I didn't ask for a lecture," he spat flatly. "Where are they?"

"You won't find them in any specific place," the older man said, now disclosing information in a low voice. "And almost never together. They did a lot of killing, and they intend to do more, but they decided to lay low. Look kid, even if I knew, I don't think you'd be able to do anything."

"I appreciate that," Alkor remarked dryly.

"I heard Haze was lingering on the ninth floor," came a sultry, feminine voice from behind Alkor, and he spun to see a red haired player with alluring cosmetic features standing with hands provocatively on her hips. "Though I haven't the first idea of where to tell you to look, mister mask."

The way she called him mister mask made Alkor snort. "And what is your business with Haze, so forthcoming about his whereabouts as you are, and knowing the consequences for selling him out if he happens to survive?"

"Here's hoping he doesn't," he smirked, raised his glass, and promptly drank her fill of his ale. Slamming the glass on the table and still leaning in front of him just so that flesh spilled out of her gown, Alkor kept his eyes deadlocked with hers- despite that she'd never have known if he had looked. "Haze killed my fiancé."

Alkor did not laugh or smile at all in response. "Fair enough," he told her, "tell me where I'm going."