[PP-F1] Getting Used To This Game

[Axel Rover 0]

It has been a few days since Yuma has actually decided to get out of the starting city and explore the grasslands around it more, and ever since then he has felt at home, being able to partake in combat just like in the real world where he is the owner of his own dojo. He felt alive when a boar ran up to him, trying to kill the old man. Not that any of his students ever tried to kill him, but anything could happen in Martial Arts, and Yuma knew that. From the moment he began taking classes his mind was stuck on the term 'pain' and starting at the tender age of 3 could make someone get used to that. Now that he was able to take the risk everyday once again, Yuma got used to this. Sure he knew that this was a death game, but he was already so old, so would it really be a loss if he died enjoying himself? Sure he had a wife and children, but they already probably thought he was dead, which made him then wonder if Chiyoko re-married. In order to take his mind off of something so ridiculous, the gray-haired large male went into one of the bars in the Starting City to fill his virtual stomach with virtual alcohol that wouldn't actually get him drunk, but probably just toy with his stats a bit. He didn't know how the drinking system in SAO worked at all. 

There Yuma sat at the counter drink in-game ginger ale, but he was lonely since he was the only person sitting at the counter, and the NPC bar tender didn't seem like he was interested in listening to him. In fact, Yuma thought he was programmed not to listen in on the players, because he tried to get the non-human thing's attention, but the only thing it understood was what drinks to get it's customers. "Damn machines. The least thing the creator could have done was create some just for the sake of having a good old talk with a wise old man," Yuma commented with an annoyed facial expression as he downed his ginger ale. 

[Toothpick 0]

Toothpick had wormed his way into the bar merely out of curiosity, he wanted to see players drunk, and the process leading to their getting drunk. There were plenty level 1 players who occupied themselves with drink rather than Aincrad, and more than a few frequented that bar, “The Salty C”. Bars with NPC bartenders meant just one less pair of eyes to judge, one less to scrutinize, so it was only natural they took the path of least resistance. A half-eaten bowl of spaghetti carbonara rested on Toothpick’s table, a shining new whip on his belt, and one less scimitar to be found. He came in early to get in ahead of the worst cases, and thus, he was there to see Yuma walk in. For a moment, he suspected that Yuma was one of those “worst cases”, but with his order of Gingerale, Toothpick waved that notion aside. While not on the counter Yuma sat on, Toothpick’s table was close enough for the two to hold an ordinary conversation. “A wise old man? What wisdom do you have to impart?” The sound of chair leg scraping against wood accompanied Toothpick as he pivoted his chair to look at Yuma.