[SP-F1] <<Earning a Living>> Pop-eye's Wisdom.

[Toothpick 0]

Naturally, just as the profession itself was rarely practiced, the path towards gaining it was obscure and distant. Fortunately for Toothpick, he already planned on pursuing the fisherman trade far before leaving his contract, and already had the property of “Pop-Eye” Thompson marked on his map. As the name alluded, “Pop-eye” was an odd NPC among many. The walk to the mark was long, strayed from the beaten path, and, were it not for Toothpick’s extensive knowledge of the first floor, would’ve certainly have included some mob encounters. Unfortunately for adversity, Toothpick was perfectly fine with taking his time, and was in no real rush; he had nothing planned after picking up the rod & string.

 

Almost habitually, Toothpick took the path of not only least resistance, but of highest gain, hoping to find a stray Mat laying around during his stroll. Toothpick, shortly after hitting the “hot-spot” with nothing to show for his efforts, arrived at “Pop-eye’s” lake. Pop-eye’s so-called property was in every sense what it sounded like, a lone, dilapidated shack of house infront of small amount of boardwalk jutting out a few yards into the crystal blue lake, both of rotting wood. The forms of fish wisped about merely inches under, the sun giving the water a pure gleam which shined off into the trees which surrounded the “property”. A wooden raft which was in surprisingly good quality was shored next to the boardwalk, and a trail of smoke which stemmed from a part of the shore that was blocked from view by the shack wafted into the air. The cheerful whistles of presumably Pop-eye, the cackle of the flames, and the soft wind were the only sounds to be heard, the animalistic chatter common to forests such as these silenced, for whatever reason.   

Toothpick took a few moments to take in the sights, and would’ve taken much longer were it not for Pop-eye’s interruption. “Ghat-damnit, you’s gonna be standing there all day!?! I reckoned you were here for me learn you the rod, but if you’re gonna stand there like so, I’ll GIVE you the rod!” Startling Toothpick, who didn’t think the fisherman had noticed him, Pop-eye’s voice rang loud and clear. Stifling a chuckle at his cringe worthy accent, Toothpick went down to the meet the man, and was met with an old elf with a grizzly beard. Pop-eye was sitting on a log, watching a fire pit which was currently cooking about 5 fish of various names. “Yes, I’m here to be learned, you’re Pop-eye, no?” Toothpick eyed the open entrance to the shack, the unusually dark room proving to be a queer sight so early into the day. Keeping his back turned to Toothpick, Pop-eye prodded the firewood with a stick, sparks flaring out, “Course’ I’m Pop-eye, and if you’s here to here to learn, best be fetching yourself a rod from the chest, far right of th’ mattress, an’ a paddle, hooked up where you can see it..” Toothpick looked back down to his host, “You’re not going to help me?” His host chuckled, finally bothering to look back at him, if only for a moment, “Boy, I’m busy! Now git!”   

 

ID# 33721

LD=9

Edited October 1, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

Dutifully following orders, Toothpick entered the shack, eyes straining to acclimate to the pervasive dark. Right hand tightly clasped about what must’ve been the right segment of the doorway, Toothpick noticed just how decrepit the shack was. Holes had rotted their way through the plank walls, but despite the shining sun outside, the darkness inexplainably overwhelmed any beam of light that dared pierce through before it illuminated even an inch. Abstract lines were all that could be seen, and the smell of salted fish intensified with every raspy creak brought on by a step forward. His knee bumped up against something hard, a curse being spat on his part, the sounds of a hinge snapping following shortly thereafter. Looking up to the sound’s origin, Toothpick realized that he’d bumped into a wall; he was then met with a paddle to the face. Rebounding from his fall with dexterity born from his uneasiness, he grabbed at the paddle, tossing it back out through the doorway, whose light was only enough to reveal the dirtied welcoming mat. The paddle clanked against the doorframe, only half of it landing outside. “ ‘Hooked up where you can see it’........well, no use lingering now, time for the chest,” with a sigh, he continued his search, convinced Pop-eye’s advice was practically useless.

[Toothpick 0]

Emerging from the shack with an old rod fumbled out from underneath Pop-eye’s mattress (the alleged chest no-where to be seen), he scooped up the paddle with a spare hand as he left. Fixated on Pop-eye, who was staring off into the cinders, he marched onward. “Once you got some bait, Git youself in the raft an head out underneath the tree,” Pop-eye pointed off towards a portion of the lake covered in the shade of an abnormally large tree, not bothering to glance up to Toothpick. “Best spot t’fish in for a beginner like youself,” Pop-eye prodded the flame with his poking stick, Toothpick finally noticing the war hammer at the man’s side. “Bait? Where would I get that?” Toothpick didn’t study the mechanics of fishing in advance, wanting to avoid spoilers. “Git bugs,” Pop-eye grunted. “Oh,” Toothpick muttered, looking back towards the forest, something telling him the experience wouldn’t be fun. Dropping both fishing rod and paddle next to the war-hammer, Toothpick made his way to the greenery. Pop-eye growled, displeased at the rod being mishandled.

Edited October 3, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

Toothpick hit a strike of luck almost instantly after stepping over the bushy gates, almost. After wander aimlessly for a few minutes, Toothpick came across a lone caterpillar inching it’s way up a tree at about face-level. Out of pity, he watched the thing for a minute or so, wondering whether or not he should let it live until he realized that a game was a game, and the program of a caterpillar couldn’t hope to be sentient. Grabbing the poor "critter"(as Pop-eye would've put it) out of it’s climb, he soon vanished it away into his invisible inventory, it's next waking moments certain to be it's last.

~~~
ID# 33838
LD:17+1

+1 Mat

 

[Toothpick 0]

Toothpick didn’t need to go far to find the next prey to his predator, or better said, green to his omnivore. Nearly stepping on the mat in question, Toothpick crouched down, picking the nut up to get a better look at it. He’d seen one of these nuts in Pop-eye’s toolbox, one of the various items he’d bumped into before finally finding the his rod. The nut was slightly smaller than a balled fist, strands of brown, flakey hair concealing it’s hard shell. Checking the item description just to be sure the nut was useful, Toothpick soon discovered that within the nut was a mold which served as efficient bait. “Efficient” was all that he needed, and into the pocket it went.

~~~
ID# 33839
LD:16+1

+1 Mat, 2 Total

 

Edited October 3, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

Lady luck was smiling down upon Toothpick, or so it seemed, the next piece of bait being found not too far away from where the nut was. The unlooted corpse of a giant spider lay limp against the base of a tree, a reminder that Toothpick had strayed from the “safe zone” that usually enveloped NPC’s like Pop-eye, and a source of good meat. Taking out the hunting knife he’d received near the beginning of his short-lived Mat farming career, Toothpick got to work slicing a chunk off for himself. Thanking the player who left the corpse behind for him as it faded to pixels, Toothpick returned to the previously treaded path; the jaws of a spider was the last place he wanted to end up.

~~~
ID# 33840
LD:20+1

+1 Mat, 3 Total

[Toothpick 0]

Figuring he’d already be spending plenty of his time at and around Pop-eye’s home, Toothpick didn’t see any need for a rush. Taking it easy to simply look around, Toothpick came across a pile of the type of nut he’d gathered earlier hidden underneath a mat of leaves. Most of the shells were already cracked open, their innards gutted open by some manner of creature interested in the mold. Fortunately, Toothpick salvaged one unscathed nut from the center of the pile, wiping it off on his shirt before strolling on off. He was accumulating quite the stash, and was pleased with his progress; of course, Toothpick’s specialty was looting, so it would be a cause of concern if he wasn’t doing well.

~~~

ID#33843

LD:14+1

 

+1 Mat, 4 Total

 

 

[Toothpick 0]

Nothing but shells, the nuts were in high demand, the obscene amount of piles Toothpick came across highlighting the obvious. As expected, these piles had been more thoroughly cleaned out in advance, and their quantity drove Toothpick to question where they even came from. “A question for Pop-eye,” he figured, kicking one of the piles and watching the nuts roll about. Scooping up a shell from the ground, he threw it with all the force he could muster, the thing whizzing out of sight. The frightened squacks of a bird could be heard shortly thereafter.

 

~~~
ID# 33869
LD: 5+1

4 Mats Total.

[Toothpick 0]

Following the sound he’d heard earlier to no avail, Toothpick started heading back to the shack. He hoped that 4 Mats would be enough to get the job done with at least some surplus. Thinking back to his time as a mat farmer, Toothpick realized that he should probably spend some time simply farming, the Mat’s he could get from that would certainly be enough to provide him the boost he needed. They came by easily enough, and surprisingly, practically ran the economy; there was no reason not to farm them.  

~~~

ID# 33869
LD:12+1

 

Edited October 4, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

What would’ve otherwise been a quick trip back was promptly elongated by the sounds of a chittering that could only come from one source, spiders. Instincts kicked in and Toothpick almost immediately snapped to action, diving into the nearest bush he could find and silencing his breath. Despite the noise being dim at best, his time spent as a Mat farmer had already trained him to pick up on even the slightest traces of sound, and he knew exactly where the spiders were far before they had caught up to his trail. They weren’t too far away from the pile he kicked, about two strong, and as far as he could tell, they were following him. On conception, mobs are given a random selection of a wide array of qualities, both good and bad, that they can have as to promote inter-racial uniqueness, the ability to track players being one of such qualities. It was common knowledge among those who payed any mind to the wisdom of beta-testers.

 

~~~

ID# 33870

LD:12+1

Toothpick enters stealth

Edited October 4, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

The “bush” Toothpick dove into was, in reality, the small gap between two bushes; their leaves streching out to cover the small space inbetween them as to make it appear that two were one, the fact that they were both of the same species only furthering that effect. Granted, Toothpick didn’t choose said spot randomly, but he still had a strike of luck in finding it. The intense chittering proceeded the spiders as they drew near, their progression slowing out of the caution they usually expressed when approaching a player. Toothpick knew he was done for if they found him, and also knew that panic was suicide, so just as the many Mat farmers before him had done, he remained still as the dead. Wisps of black sped past the gaps he could see through, Toothpicks eye’s following them to the best of his power. The spiders lingered in the spot much longer than should’ve, very clearly aware of the fact that he was near. Minutes passed by, and there were many times that the spiders were literally inches away from finding him. Regardless of their hypothetical success, the spiders’ patience grew thin, and before long they scattered off whence they came. Toothpick waited for while just in case.

 

~~~

ID# 33881
LD:6+1

MD:2 (Monster Loot Die)

 

Toothpick is successful in hiding from the two spiders

[Toothpick 0]

If the spiders didn’t make it obvious that the forest didn’t want him around, Toothpick didn’t know what would. It was generally accepted among Mat finders that each area, may it be a small cave, or a gigatron mountain, had a spirit of it own; and while hesitant to accept the notion at first, Toothpick’s experiences drove him to become a believer soon after his becoming a farmer. It was by listening and reacting to the collective spirit of Aincrad that he’d managed to survive Mat farming without ever having to draw his Scimitar, save for intimidation. Regardless of the validity of the notion, Toothpick wasn’t going to stop following it’s wisdom “now”. Emerging from the bushes and dusting any stray leaves off his person, he drew his scimitar and headed back the way he came. Many studies on Mob Trackers detailed just how effective retracing one’s path was in diminishing the effectiveness of their ability; knowledge of that, combined with the spiders heading the other way, making it clear what path Toothpick should take.

 

~~~

 

ID# 33935

LD:5+1
 

[Toothpick 0]

He quickened the pace, yes, but treading carefully was Toothpick’s number one concern for obvious reasons. The nut piles passed by without much of note, Toothpick scrutinizing every sight that he could see before even thinking of proceeding. Fortunately, Toothpick was skilled in searching, so the process wasn’t clunky in the slightest. Catching an uncracked nut in the corner of his eye, he scooped it off the ground without his eyes moving to greet, the thing vanishing into his inventory before he even rose back up to a stand. Once again, the forest blessed him for following it’s will; Toothpick wondered how much validity the theory had in real life.   

 

~~~

ID# 33943

LD: 17+1

+1 Mat, 5 Total  

 

 

 

[Toothpick 0]

Toothpick entered the lake clearing not too far away from the point from which he entered, the scene he arrived to similar to the one he’d left save for one difference, the dead spider who lay dead a yard away from Pop-eye. Pop-eye gruffly nodded hello towards Toothpick as the player approached before returning to his business. Once he was close, the spider’s death was revealed to be a gruesome one, it’s caved in head combined with the green blood that painted Pop-eye’s hammer painting a clear picture. Figuring the corpse would go to waste if he didn’t loot it, Toothpick took out his knife and gutted the creature, getting a chunk of spider meat for his efforts.

 

~~~
 

ID# 33944

LD: 15+1

+1 Mat, 6 Total

 

[Toothpick 0]

Sheathing the scimitar, he held the paddle in one hand and the rod in the other, sending a lingering glance towards the flames before heading off to the raft. Pop-eye’s whistles picked up as Toothpick dropped the gear onto the raft, untying the rope which connected boardwalk to raft shortly thereafter. Summoning the caterpillar when he was sat in the raft, Toothpick placed it on the paddle which rested over his lap, giving it a last comforting pat before slicing it’s head off with his knife, stabbing it’s body onto the hook after pocketing the head as a memento. Toothpick hoped the caterpillar's sacrifice wouldn’t be a complete waste, and still felt guilty after reassuring himself it was insentient.

 

 

~~~
ID#33946

LD:8

 

[Toothpick 0]

Gripping the paddle firmly, he pushed off from the shore. Whisping underneath, the forms of fish were obscured by glimmering water, awakened by the stir of wood. Some of the more daring nibbled at the mossy underside of the raft as it chugged forward. The tree whom Pop-eye pointed towards loomed on the far end of the lake, even it’s smaller branches thicker than some of the trees Toothpick passed in his search. The shadow it left stretched out far and wide, algae prospering under it’s cover. Toothpick’s inexperience with the raft led to the trip taking longer than it should’ve, but eventually, he found his perfect spot under the shade. Why Pop-eye directed him to the shade was revealed underneath the algae parted by the bow, a vibrant community of fish spasming out of sight almost the moment they sensed sunlight. Chuckling at at their terror, Toothpick set the rod back and aimed for a clear patch somewhat near the center of the shade, clearly made by Pop-eye through some manner of fisherman wisdom. Setting loose, the float landed where it should, and the trap was set.

Lying back into the raft and stabbing the handle inbetween his thighs, he watched the leaves rustles, patches of light crashing like waves against his person. Toothpick wished he’d brought his namesake with him. The first floor always had good wind. He looked back to the shack, the smoke was gone. He turned to the leaves, and then, sleep. Abstract noise buzzed through the wistful dream, the first tug bringing light to his eyes. Looking down, he saw the float bobbing was disturbed ever so gently. Hands slowly assuming their stations as he rose from the wood, he focused his all into that bob. Another tug came, one shortly thereafter, then, a yank. Quickly, Toothpick cranked the reel, the fish underneath retorting with more force than Toothpick expected. Matching the fish’s force with his own, the rod twitched erratically. Pop-eye watched with a keen eye from his rocking chair on the boardwalk, his smoking pipe warm, it’s shaft clenched tightly by smirking lips, “.......”  The raspy groan of the line intensified as it shortened, the line cutting a wavey path through the aglae, the product of a large adversary. The sun was nearing the golden hour, and Toothpick was covered in light as he pulled back with all his force. For his efforts, a writhing catfish was birthed from the water, the hook having fully impaled it’s chin. Cheering, Toothpick lay the thing on his lap and finished it off with a decisive slice on the hunting knife’s part. “Ocre’s luck….” a new smoke snaked into the air, fainter than the former.

~~~

ID#33947
CD: 10 (Rare quality)
LD:18+1 (Large Fish found)
MD: 2 (Rod Check)

Toothpick catches the Mossy Catfish
-1 Mat, 5 Total
 

 

Name:
~Mossy Catfish [+5 EXP]

 

Profession:
~Fisherman

 

Rank:
~[1] Young Fisher (0/40) [+5 EXP]

 

ID:
~#33947

 

Roll:
~CD 10
~MD:2
~LD: 18+1

 

Item Type:
~Large Fish

 

Quality:
~Rare

 

Enhancements:
~ Vitamins [2]

 

Description:

Life is taken so life can continue. The accumulative souls of those sacrificed empower the predator, and in turn, the system in which they live in, and ensure. This, is the spirit of the forest. Caked in a shade of green and of above average size, the Mossy Catfish is a gift to those in-tune with that very spirit.

 

Edited October 28, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

Unhooking the catfish, Toothpick appraised the hefty catch from every angle before checking it’s description. While not one to boast, Toothpick felt like the catch was something worthy of boasting about, despite the luck involved in obtaining it. Moments before Toothpick pocketed it, the catfish, in one last spasm, spat out a glob of spit onto the rotten wood. Vanishing the fish away into a cloud of pixels, Toothpick poked at the spit, curious at what was in it’s center. Worming out the solid from within, Toothpick found it was none-other than the caterpillar he’d used as bait, and not only that, but it was completely unharmed. The sight bringing a smile to his face, Toothpick pocketed the caterpillar, certain it was lucky.

 

~~~

ID# 33980

LD: 19+1

 

+1 Mat, 6 Total

[Toothpick 0]

The crack Toothpick found in the rod was sign enough that his stay had reached it’s end, the thought of wasting mats on a bad rod a displeasing one. He cleaned off off the rest of the rod before withdrawing it into his inventory, flicking the green back into the water, the small ripples enticing a few brave fish to reveal themselves from the shade of green. Looking up to the oscillating shade of green, which covered a stillborn shade of green which covered a dormant green, Toothpick resolved to take up hiking as a hobby if he left Sao unscathed. Alas, he held the resolution with a grain of salt, as even if he did all the right things within the games, the world outside Sao still existed, and with it, his body. The thought was not a comforting one, and so he rowed.

 

~~~
ID# 35386
LD: 10+1

Edited October 25, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

The fish care for the raft because it isn’t of water, and when the raft sits in the water, it becomes of water, transparent; and the fish care less.

~~~

Toothpick rowed without much incident.

Pop-eye retreated back into his shack once Toothpick was close enough to dock soon, but too distant to talk with. Naturally, when Toothpick shored, after wondering where in god’s holy name Pop-eye wormed out such a pristine-looking piece of carpentry, the rocking chair, out onto the dock from, he approached the shack. There was a dim light emanating from the cracks in-between the wooden planks, and the gaps which were birthed from a shoddy job; the light, a blessing for Toothpick. He could hear Pop-eye whistling from within, and when he entered, he was in for a shock. While the previous darkness was still present, of what was revealed to Toothpick, nothing paired up with what he had mapped out in his darkness-induced stumble, save for the welcoming mat. Where the bed should've been, was a table, the adjacent chair being where Pop-eye sat, tools used presumably for gutting fish laid out infront of him, along with a lit fish-oil lantern, the source of the light. The shelf on which he had found the rod was replaced with a framed painting of Pop-eye, and what Toothpick would've recognized as an NPC family which lived in Urbus if he had familiarized himself with the town. Pop-eye's sleeping mattress was now in the center of the room, and other personals were scattered about in places where Toothpick had previously thought there was nothing. Figuring this phenomenon was the source of all the odd rumors centered around the NPC, Toothpick didn’t mention anything to Pop-eye about his home, assuming that any inquiry would be given a substance-less response. "Well? What're you waiting for, git over here, I gots to learn ya gutting," Pop-eye grunted, a puff of smoke floating out of his pipe.

~~~

ID# 35711
LD: 11

Edited October 26, 2015 by Toothpick

[Toothpick 0]

"Alright, since you's still a novice, I'll show you how do it myself before handing you reins. Watch an' learn, boy." Pop-eye pulled out a catfish identical to my own, probably the effects of the tutorial wanting me to witness the gutting of my first catch when done perfectly, while still allowing me to gut it myself. It might’ve shocked me at first glance if I wasn’t already familiar with Pop-eye’s powers of breaking reality. It took some time, but Pop-eye gave me surprisingly comprehensive lessons on how to gut, store, and present a fish, and even though we went through a few “Copies” before I fully understood, by the time the sun had set, and our blood-stained gloves(he gave me gloves) were illuminated by lantern light, I was pretty damn good. To wrap up the lesson, I gutted my own cat-fish, a deed that was surprisingly easy. Thank god the interface allows for us to capture pictures of our catches, that Catfish was simply too good-looking to pass up. I’ll have to find a way to get it’s picture framed in the store.