Scene #8349: BCC: The Videogame Part

Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	It's an uncommon occasion where the inexorable forward roll of Elites over an unexplored and dangerous territory is given such abrupt pause and a compelling reason to regroup. While the group had returned from the Lakefont Boundary in one piece, the sheer precociousness of hoping to sprint to the end of the game with their starter equipment and no real game knowledge had become abundantly clear, in both the felt difficulty spike and the fact that experienced gamers were still ahead by doing the opposite. And yet, retreating back to Yono doesn't feel . . . terrible? Knowing that whatever mysterious process or deranged game master is handling the game clock is, at all times, enabling this, without equal hours passing in the real world, is one thing. The lack of fast travel, requiring the entire procession of both parties to trudge backwards the same way, requires a decline in pace; for fifteen people to fill a half hour walk through gorgeous fantasy terrain, dripping with detail and ambient sound, by talking, socializing, contemplating, or working on mobile crafts like mapmaping or journal writing. Coming back to town and finding it the same way, still there, rather than lost in the rear horizon, feels strangely comforting; especially when some other players enthusiastically welcome the departing party with open arms. For a moment, it provides a glimpse into the perspectives of the poor unfortunates who've been trapped here for many weeks. It's odd, having all of this time --this time?-- to use. Enough for even Lilian to switch gears, in a way normally only reserved for 'off screen', and sit down somewhere calm to (allegedly) meditate, look up reference, bullet point a list, and start scribbling out a schedule with slightly nauseating briskness. By the time she starts sending messages again, she's already acting as if she's the de-facto Party leader. //Lilian Rook: If possible, we should approach the dungeon by the in-game morning after next. That's a couple of hours of real time, if we sleep through the night here. Perhaps a week later, if we leave. //Lilian Rook: I'm compiling a final checklist of everyone's World skills. Given I have Harvest and Alchemy, I'll be working on sorting out what consumable options we'll need for the upcoming area. Given I believe I have the party's highest Trade by far as well, anything we're selling or buying directly should go through me. //Lilian Rook: We're going to need a lot of food, emergency restoratives, far more ammunition, options to deal with the fire and electric damage we know is upcoming, and the water and heights we know are obstacles. We'll want Tier 2 equipment universally. We'll also want to disseminate knowledge of that 'bleedout' skill, and train anything that will help us with navigation, traversal and mechanics. //Lilian Rook: I recall that we know about a few of these things here. We've sourced a few useful tips about what materials can be used to make what. I'll especially be trying to get hold of some of those water breathing consumables while we have time. Do what you can to make yourselves useful.
Lilian Rook	>>The group can say nothing about chargen anomalies. They know of PvP but think it'll settle down once the 'duel system unlocks' 'when you reach Lento'. They know nothing about the game master, and they think 'anomalies' means the spooky area hazards. Their leads on gear are using the materials gathered from Derivation Bridge (honestly, they say the tip-off should have been the Opalescent Crusher dropping shell materials that resist the radiation damage), or scouting the Ancient Lake and using Yono's facilities. The ruins have great metals for heavy armour and bladed weapons. The rare trees make fantastic bows and medium armour. The animals make light armour and inventory expansions. Bones and claws can be used for consumable weapons and combined into various status-inflicting consumables. The plants there can make decent restoratives, stamina juicing drinks, short-lived attack buffs, low level poisons, and low level anticoagulants. Hurlants are tough to use in this stage; better gas comes from under the lake itself and iron slugs are expensive to replace with steel slugs right now, given Yono's expensive and low-tier coal (used in all forging).<< //Lilian Rook: Set the map to allow it to show your location to all party members. Do not leave the Ancient Lake area, unless it is to fast travel to Clef for trade resources. Share anything you find to the Party chat. I'll be at the islands for now.
Rita Ma	Rita, sticking near Sterling and Lilian on the walk, waves from the waist and smiles shyly at the players welcoming their return. And then even more shyly, at any of the NPCs who do the same. She clearly feels silly about it, but works up the courage to say her thoughts out loud. "Even if they're game characters, it's still good to be nice to them, isn't it? I think it's the trying that counts. If you hold out your hand to them, even if they don't take it, it still makes you someone who held out a hand. Right?" She's anxious to be agreed with. Once they're in town, she wanders down to the fishing pier, though she doesn't get much fishing done. Thanks to Tamamo, they're probably glutted on food supplies for a good long while. [To: Party] Rita Ma: Okay! ^^ Rita Ma: Having good weapons isn't that important for me. Rita Ma: But I'd at least like some good light armor. Rita Ma: Could someone come hunting with me? Rita Ma: I have Rita hesitates for a few long seconds before pulling up her sheet. It isn't a pleasant thing to look at. Her eyes, with a practiced ease, slide away from the magenta parts. No need to look. Rita Ma: Harvest, Trade, Negotiate, Repair, and Beg! Rita Ma: That last one doesn't sound very good v_v
Friz	"There's not any easy way to do that." "Gotta get done." "It's not like we don't have other options." "None that don't make us a waste." "I'm just not comfortable with it..." "It's this or you go to the backseats. You can go there if you want." "..." "But you don't." "Fine." Savvy: He's right. Savvy: Moxie's not strong enough to keep up with this hurlant approach. Moxie: Kind of hate agreeing with you right now. Dirt: In this area, bladed weapons are best made with metal from the ruins. Savvy: What about blunt melee? Dirt: No memories on that, boss. Gotta be the same thing though. Grit: Metal tools. They are superior to tools of pure stone or wood. Grit: That new development has revolutionized life. Moxie: Oh lord. Dirt: Chief, uh, one of these days you and me gotta sit down and catch you up. Grit: What? Dirt: We'll talk about it later. Boss, ask her? Savvy: Yeah, alright. Savvy: Hey, Ms.-- Wait, Dirt, do I call her Dame? Dirt: Rogers keeps saying to do that. Savvy: Okay, so, no. Hey, Ms. Rook? Savvy: Got a question for you. "(That is, if you've got a second.)" Friz continues typing as she returns from one of her scouting excursions to go off and find, and sometimes gather from, rich harvest points for plant and metal materials, as well as gathering grounds for animals. "I was hoping you might have some alchemical stuff that could help me with enhancing supernatural attacks? I'm not really going to be able to keep up with things if I stick to the gun I'm used to... I'm going to be, uh..." She lies, briefly. "Looking for an option for more supernatural ranged stuff. And trying to boost my blunt attacks and armor, until then." Her truncheon is still so barebones and basic, and so is her lightly armored jacket. She needs to find someone to craft up substitutes for her! So she's been contributing through her extensive scouting and tracking, and hoping to exchange that for higher-grade gear and some potential offensive options. Because a certain shadow following her is quickly becoming one of the few opportunities she has to meaningfully keep up with the needs of this investigation. And she can't exactly put a new gun or some armor on him.
Ishirou	Ishirou spent some time offline going over whatever he could find on the Beta of BCC. It seems enough held over from the beta and playtest to the current version, so he could at least get some guides and read through them. Then it was a matter of comparing data he knew was outdated and then updating it, and then providing it to the group chat if he could. He, once back in town, focused on his skills for a bit. His Divine Tuner path allowed him to pick how focused he could be, tuning his build for optimal efficiency. Now that he /knew/ about the armor, he sat down and considered skills that would complement what he has. Specifically, he was more limited in combat skills because of his Counter template. Ranged heavy weapons, short curved blades, and tactics. He also added flight (if he needed to) to his emergent skills. Given the armor's weight, he decided to also make sure armor proficiency of some kind was added to coordinate with the skill he had. Then he sat on world skills for a bit. Ishirou: Hey so...I am reworking my skills since we're still low level and I can do that...who is taking what skills, so I know what I can focus on to compliment. I have a bit more because of the Counter template... Ishirou: Sorry Rita, changing these in combat is dangerous, I'll need a bit before I'm ready. Ishirou: Well it does seem I can hack NPCs, but I should do it sparingly because it gives me a warning whenever I do. Ishirou: I do have scouting, and I don't think I'm getting rid of that. Probably also keeping cartography. But I got a lot more space here.
Tamamo	Tamamo spends a little time scribbling notes, thinking through before answering. Tamamo: I have the cooking, alchemy, negotiation, harvest, and weaving skills, myself. I believe the lattermost is for making light armor. Tamamo: However, I should like to find something a bit heavier, for myself. 'Medium' armor, how is this gained? Tamamo: I need, as well, some way to gain a stronger sword. Tamamo: For gathering metal and wood, I cannot do this, myself. If someone else cannot, or cannot craft the needed equipment, I will seek out these skills. Tamamo: This world being as it is, I have little idea as to how long it will take to achieve the beginnings of mastery.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	The difference in how each of the Rubi-Kans treat the warm welcome back to Yono speaks volumes about each of them. Bercilak is just as warm; all smiles, belly-laughs, hearty claps on the shoulder and heartfelt well-wishes. He's happy to be back, to see how everyone has come along, and even to see familiar faces among the town's NPC population. Phreak, however, can't look anyone in the eye. If he says anything at all, it's the kind of one-word responses you get from someone who's clearly somewhere else. It's as if the positivity is causing him discomfort--though the specific kind is hard to pinpoint between 'anger' or 'guilt.' He's been online often--much more than usual, though he's been smart enough to stay away from anything more actively dangerous than he can handle. Much like with the players on the way back into Yono, he's been the kind of quiet that only comes from being either extremely upset, extremely focused, or both. Bladecraft isn't the type of game that can be brute-forced, and much of his time online has been spent discovering exactly that, which shas had the predictable effect of making his anger into a simmering background noise. He doesn't respond to Rita's remark on extending a hand--but Bercilak does, and gives her a clawed thumbs-up, lantern eyes conveying approval as best they can. Bercilak: I got you sib Bercilak: I got a trait for that Bercilak: improves the skills for like hunting and skinning and shit. we can get sum for phreak too Phreak: What do we have for mining? Friz: I can find good spots, but not mine them myself... Sterling: I have mining, a little bit. Phreak: Okay. I'm gonna try and focus on making us better weapons. Starting with me, 'cause it'll be downhill from there based on this coal bottleneck. Phreak, meanwhile, has wandered into town proper, in search of someone who can teach him how to maintain, make and improve his hurlants. Maybe that's a player, or maybe it's an NPC with a questline. Either is fine, as long as it's a route towards increasing the relevant worldskill.
Petra Soroka	Sterling ~ Lv: 13 ~ HP: 510 ~ CL: 80 Sterling has been hard at work since her meeting with the elites, keeping her mind off of everything else that's happened. Traveling between gathering locations for materials-- mostly to the ruins, for obvious reasons-- and her forge in Yono, Sterling's been singlemindedly crafting the first set of gear for her new allies, and by this next cycle, she's putting on the finishing touches. She wipes the sweat off her forehead with a heavy gloved hand, laying the sword on the anvil in front of her alongside the polishing rag. It glitters in the forgelight, and she can't help but feel a little-- maybe a lot-- happy with the result. A glittering glass blade over five feet long, the crystal-clear material is filled with dancing fragments of light, splintering through prisms. Inlaid through the core and spreading out and across the surface are fractals of gold, sharp, kintsugi-like patterns visible in three dimensions suspended inside, softening into continuous, cursive musical notation on the surface. The golden sheet music on the surface is just barely indented from the rest of the weapon, and it sparkles of its own accord, evidently magical. Courtesy of a friend, not Sterling herself. It's for Lilian. Obviously. The other piece is an armored dress, white cloth and black iron monochrome, wrought in intricate patterns down the length of its torso. Complete with gauntlets and knee high greaves, the dress being as short as mid-thigh is improbably made a defensive nonissue by the presence of black chainmail thigh highs, which are more comfortable than they might seem. That's also for Lilian. Obviously. Sterling startles and stumbles backwards into her workbench when the party message ping pops up, knocking her hammer off the table and onto her foot. Sterling ~ Lv: 13 ~ HP: 507/510 ~ CL: 80 To: Party Sterling: Sounds good, ma'am. Sterling: I've finished up Tier 2 equipment for you, just now. Sterling: So I'm free to work on whoever else's next. Sterling: I'm happy to help you hunt, Miss Rita, though my Leatherworking isn't as high as my Armorcraft. The professional typing tone is just a little awkward, still, but it's what she'd do, in the presence of Elites. Humming happily to herself, Sterling gathers up the gear on her workbench and hoists it over her shoulder to trot outside, each of her footsteps seeming labored and heavy. Her ears and tail twitch as she waves at each NPC she passes. It's not even a question for her, whether to treat them as real people, it seems, and she wanders all the way to Lilian's location to present her with the items personally. Meeting Lilian's eyes, Sterling flinches, and a crackle of psychosomatic electricity sparks through her. She shakes her head to clear it, and the radar dish directly on her crown pings to greet Lilian before she opens her mouth. "Oh! Um." Sterling flips the glass blade around in her hand, still wearing her smithing gloves, and offers the hilt to Lilian, followed by the armor. "I hope this'll suit you? I..." Her mind blanks out, and she just smiles kind of dumbly. "Yeah." Afterwards, she meets Rita and Bercilak outside to hunt, despite having Mining for Phreak. She just doesn't want to spend time around Phreak very much.
Tamamo	After hearing that at least one person has mining, and another can gather wood, and that armor and sword smithing is covered to some extent, Tamamo goes in search of information on the remaining topic on her mind: medium armor. She'd like to keep some mobility, compared to her impression of heavy armor, without having the greater natural speed that Lilian does. Perhaps, she thinks, being protection made with wood, it will be similar to samurai protectors.
Lilian Rook	'Even if they're game characters, it's still good to be nice to them, isn't it? I think it's the trying that counts. If you hold out your hand to them, even if they don't take it, it still makes you someone who held out a hand. Right?' "Rehearsal for the real thing, I suppose." Lilian says, absentmindedly. "Or, just building a habit. They say that someone being unkind to animals is a red flag, after all. How you treat things that you think of as lesser than you is a leak of how you think about other people." //Lilian Rook: I hate to say it, but asking other players is probably our best bet. //Lilian Rook: It feels atrocious to rely on the victims, but none of us were exactly primary tradesmen in real life. //Lilian Rook: Half of you don't even have a day job. Phreak's asking around in town takes only the better part of the morning. It's shocking, how much time this game eats up while you aren't paying attention. Its design --not clustering up the useful amenities into a small area and leaving the rest purely cosmetic-- would be intensely user-hostile if it didn't feel so lived in. The people of Yo-- The NPCs, teach and build archery, not gunsmithing. Most players who got this far don't use hurlants either, finding them too difficult to use, and suspecting they come into their own later in the game. It's actually a small wonder where Edel got hers. It takes some trial and error to find where a coven of like-minded players have decided to start gathering on a regular basis, to contribute their resources towards a higher end crafting setup, in opportunistic preparation of the inevitable attempts on the Lakefont. It's a lively little spot, where the shell of an empty scenery building has been repurposed like a lazy hovel from a survival builder. Long wooden tables, racks, and looms, pieced together with rivets and treated leather, fill up most of the empty floorspace in a clumsily tetris'd sprawl. Cheap crates, like those in Lavis and Vermilion's camp, are stacked barely accessibly, holding raw resources, notable only for some rockstar having enough trapworking skill to create and attach tier 1 locks to them, with barely any room to get around. There's no real building security; they don't own it, and there's no door. Friz can be called without issue if he chooses. But the issue is that, when he starts questioning, plenty of people offer to sell him better, on commision, but sure as hell not teach him. It takes no time at all to realize that these players came together not out of communal goodwill, but because together they can wring maximum value out of their choice to focus on support. They can buy whatever food they want, and eventually settle on a house, if they can charge all the combat types. They don't want competition; they're already splitting it ten ways. Gas goes for a premium; nobody dives the lake for cheap, and the NPCs don't buy it. Rita and Bercilak on a hunting trip is something immediately fruitful. The sun rising to doesn't feel uncomfortable stalking around the cool mist, and Bercilak is perhaps the only player around who shouldn't worry much about going it nearly alone. Predictably, the area closest to Yono has been farmed pretty clean, as are the 'traditional hunting grounds' that NPC hunters light up on the map. They have to go far afield, wide around the perimeter of the shore. Once they start getting drops, something particular makes itself more obvious than it had been, ploughing through a dungeon at lightspeed. The more hits, the more overkill, and the heavier the weaponry used, the less favourable the drops are. Neither of them are particularly suited to clean and efficient kills with minimum force (not like this anyways) and the going is slow.
Lilian Rook	What they gather is that the flightless bird enemies provide hides that are largely only useful for packs and clothes and tool wrappings, but feathers that can be slotted into armour recipes that repel water and cushion well against Blunt and Pierce, but have abysmal Fire resistance. The murderous mudfish enemies can be skinned for high hardness but low absorption armour. They, conversely, have abysmal Lightning resistance, and worse, absorb and retain water, but/and easily repel Fire. The quadrupedal monsters, lastly, provide the lightest end of light armour, focused on absorption, allowing for marginally quicker movement and higher jumps, cushion against impacts, and a middling Lightning resist with no major flaws. Given the entire main dungeon has to deal with water and heights, fire and lightning, there's a lot of choices to be made. There seems to be a general dearth of support for heavy playstyles, perhaps not wanting to encourage what'll make the dungeon harder, just yet, or maybe just for kayfabe, as Yono is styled every bit as a harmonious hunter-trapping village with vaguely rural shintoist overtones. While they're out, Lilian confirms that there isn't a proper mine until the next area, so it's either scrap or rare and expensive grindy ruins materials that require specific skills and puzzles to get, and she offers Bercilak, at least, to scope out what they can replace their plate with (axes, are, thankfully sold here, by woodsmen, as well as light blades for those who use them), but her messages stop around the time Sterling replies. //Lilian: Wait, seriously? The meeting is quick and awkward. Lilian is nothing but graceful and courteous about it, but Sterling gets the painfully distinct impression that she really isn't used to receiving gifts. Lilian briefly wanders off to find a changing area, then pauses, and brings up her menu with a sigh, muttering "Right . . ." underneath her breath. //Lilian Rook: I'd appreciate it if you could see to Bercilak next. Then Rita's weapon. "This is . . . nearly distressingly comfortable." Lilian says to Sterling. "I'd ask about the measurements, but I suppose the game does that magic, doesn't it." she adds, obliviously. The sword is something she holds with a little reverence, and a little pining sting. "How appropriate. Even if coincidentally. Where did you get all the ruinglass for this?" A beat. "Beg pardon? This-- Bars? So there's an enhancement system? Of course that's the theme. That's another thing we'll need to look for as well as Compositions, and I suppose now Measures." //Lilian Rook: Friz. By 'supernatural', do you mean 'a supernatural attack', or what? //Lilian Rook: We could backtrack to Derivation Bridge to see if we can meet the conditions for the Composition of Breath.
Friz	Savvy: Composition of Breath? Dirt: Pulling it up, boss. Dirt: Rook mentioned that, and I've seen it on Rita's sheet out of the corner of the eyes. Takes up trait points, and it looked like it had some ranged options. Savvy: Any idea if it synergizes with Rogers? Dirt: Not one clue, boss. Savvy: Alright. Savvy: Okay, thanks, Ms. Rook, that could be a good idea. "...But if I'm gonna make this work," Friz keeps typing away while she does the scouting. "Then committing early isn't a good idea, because of how my trait points don't like the respec. If I can find enhancements early, that should work, right?" Grit: It's not good to lie to Rook. Moxie: I already pushed enter, though. Grit: You should change it. Moxie: But that'll be really awkward! Grit: Stress. Threat. Panic. Moxie: Augh! Fine! Savvy, please! Savvy: Oh christ, okay, fine! Friz accidentally does a single point of chip damage to her HP bar when she digs her fingernails into her palms, before sending followup corrections. "Ugh. No. That's kind of a lie, I'm sorry. One of my abilities might give me some more supernatural ranged attack options, if I can do things right, and I was hoping there might be something that aligned with that to enhance the hits. If we're going after Lavis and Vermillion in full force, I really need to use all the options, even the ones I really, really don't like. I didn't approach them right at all last time, and I need to change how I'm doing this." Dirt: Couple typos there, bud. Moxie: Huh? Grit: Go up a few messages, fix the punctuation. Savvy: Do you think we'll look desperate? Moxie: I think we'll look desperate if we look like we edited the message. Moxie: I'll delete it and resend it. Grit: We'll look weird if we're deleting and resending things. Moxie: Wait, but I already deleted the Savvy: Why didn't we edit? I Moxie: old messages, I have t Grit: That's already bad, she's go Dirt: There's a typo in the new one. Savvy: don't understand why we need to delete and Moxie: o resend them one way or another. It's Dirt: Guys. Grit: oing to think things are bad one way or another, this Dirt: Guys, the new replacement messages have typos... Friz sort of fumbles with her messenger interface, anxious about what she sent in a totally nerve-wracked way. It just looks like small typos and an incongruous incoming-message alert number on Lilian's end, but on Friz's, it's a complete fuckup fiasco that very nearly puts her into a paralyzing anxiety state.
Ishirou	Ishirou looks at his sheet as he sits down over it. Maybe he's going about this the wrong way. He has skills that don't neatly fit into the system...the armor somehow does, but the hacking and his scanning ability don't. He drums his fingers, then Lilian says something. '//Lilian Rook: Half of you don't even have a day job.' He snaps his fingers, that's it. //Ishirou: that's it! Thanks, Lilian, I figured this out I think! Then he starts working. He kind of wishes he could change parts that are likely unchangeable now...but that's fine. He changes some things just slightly in his sheet. His combat skills seem to be right where he needs them, he'll have to rely on lighter armor, but he still isn't sure how that transfers over to when the suit goes on. He tests that by wearing one of the armors nobody wants real quick, seeing just how it changes in each form. Is the clockwork armor connected to his normal armor, or is it separate? Is it a transformative power that swaps his stats around..? Once he can figure /that/ out...well that will just let him finalize changes, but what he does is... He sinks the majority of his points into support skills of things like tactics, mapping, and discovering anything that will give him an edge in IDing and discovering things. He then puts in just a very little amount of points for each profession to let him get cross-class skill finding. What they couldn't get in the party, they could get the mats for and instead pay less. He's looking to try and pop enough focused skill in searching for things that he can also get other info, getting better info on respawn timers, what is needed for what, what mats are used for, and just enough that he can plan out things for people so they can better figure out what they need. Whatever he can't find out this way, he can push against the game with a little bit of hacking. Trying to minimize the system's glare on him.
Eryl Fairfax	Eryl Fairfax: Leave asking players to me, I'll get in touch with the co-operative. Eryl Fairfax: I do concur that it seems awkward to be asking for their help. Let us hope it remains only at the level of advice. And so the question is put out. Eryl explains what happened at Lakefront, and how their forward party is woefully undergeared. Giving a quick breakdown on the approach each of them have been taking towards combat, he asks if anyone knows any way to get ahead of the gear level, so to speak. If there are certain weapons that could be made that, while different from their current sets, might have an edge over everything else. As he waits for an answer, he puts his mind towards the best approach to the Boundary. There are multiple issues to consider, and only so many equipment slots. When words comes in of what armours could be crafted from the local fauna, it's clear the game developers wanted players to pick and choose what they wanted to focus on. Eryl Fairfax: If we can figure out a means to easily conquer the birds, we would need to pay less mind to fire resistance. Eryl Fairfax: I'd like to test some things. Spear throwers, bolas, and nets for example. If we can weigh them down or entangle them, gravity can do the work for us. Eryl Fairfax: Unfortunately, the only way to test them would be a quick foray into the Lakefront Boundary, aggroing one, and seeing if they work. Eryl Fairfax: Happy to attempt that experiment, but only in a team of 3 or so, to ensure that nothing goes wrong. But first, he needs the items in question. He already knows how to make rope for the tents, and those are 90% of nets and bola, but for spears, he would also like a spear-throwing lever to maximize range and penetration. If they stick in deep, they become another weight to bring them down. With these in mind, he sets about gathering. He'll need wood and stone for the spears, rope and heavy stones for the bola, and fabrics for the nets.
Angela	For every gamer that is happy to participate in wanton violence and chase the thrill of difficult content for the sake of the challenge, there is a gamer that is just happy to spend every day in the game fishing and just megaspec into some atypical, maybe even useless, skillset to make your own fun. Case in point, a pale faced green haired man with long hair, a pale face, and brown eyes with an N armband around his arm is wholly specced for fishing. He doesn't have any weapons beyond a fishing rod that he is holding over his shoulder and his inventory is already stacked with various fish that can be fished up in this area. He doesn't even have a cooking proficiency. Just lots and lots of fish and the ability to fetch more. "What a drag..." The green haired man says.. "I thought I would finally get the chance to relax instead I have to show my boss around..." He is followed by a pale blue haired woman wearing a purple coat, black tights, a black skirt, heels, and an elaborate cravat. She is holding a book in her hands and has spent all her beginning points into the Literature and Scribe abilities. "Considering how rarely you do your job, you should be grateful that your work is now coinciding with your entertainment rather than you simply being cut off from it, Netzach." Netzach sighs as he looks for a body of water (likely the lake) to get to work on, setting bait against the hook. Maybe he can just keep doing this and Angela will be too distracted to care. And Angela does seem distracted. She crouches and touches the grass, ripping some pieeces out of the floor. She rubs the blades against her palm before letting them blow away in the wind. Angela reaches out with her hand and feels the sun's warmth against it. She pulls her hands back and takes a moment to look for familiar faces, as otherwise quiet as she typically is even if she isn't ALWAYS.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Phreak steps into the little building-turned hovel, twisting awkwardly to navigate his way around the haphazardly placed tables, looms, and racks. He wishes, after his first few conversations around the place, that he hadn't. He very nearly storms out, after the third or fourth stern refusal to teach him, until an idea strikes him. "Commission's not really in the cards for me," he says a lot more calmly than is actually indicative of his emotional state. "I'm trying to catch up with two dickheads out there, understand? Lavis and Vermillion? They're sure as shit not gonna be sitting on their asses. I drop a stack for you, I have one hurlant, that might be as good as the gear those jabronis have right now. Maybe. I got no guarantee it's as good as whatever I'll have by the next time I meet them," he says, reaching up to brush aside his hair with his prosthetic, and resisting the urge to shiver as the cold metal touches his forehead. "I respect the hustle you and your buddies are running, here. But I need to stay current. Draw up a non-compete clause, or something, if you're so worried about that. Or, better yet," he says, with a nod of his head towards the nearest locked crate, "I can help you shore up your, ah... 'security vulnerabilities.'" In other words, he's offering to be some sort of white-hat lockpicker in exchange for being taught. "I'm gonna figure out how to do it anyway," he bluffs, shrugging his shoulders. "So you might as well get something out of it." Hunting with Rita, Bercilak realizes, too, that he's really in store for slow going. Pushing a breath through gritted teeth after a few messy kills. "Damn, sorry, Rita. I guess we're gonna be at this a while. I guess let's... gather a little bit of everything, so we don't have to make as many trips. The four-legged guys for Phreak, Ishirou, and any of our other lighties. Feathers for... everybody, if we can manage with me clubbing the shit out of everything." He shakes his head, examining his axe. "And the mudfish for me."
Petra Soroka	"Where did you get all the ruinglass for this?" Sterling beams and thrusts a large gloved hand in front of her with a thumbs up. "Hard work!" That's not actually a 'where', but Sterling seems too pleased with herself to bother thinking it through. "Glad you like it, ma'am!" She hovers around for a few moments awkwardly, the air expectant as if she's going to say something, but then she doesn't. >Sterling: Mister Bercilak is the big guy? >Sterling: It took me ages to make my armor, but it'll be easier with you all helping. >Sterling: Still, time-wise, he might be better off with some mudfish armor? Maybe stone, if his traits require him to wear heavy armor, but that's limited to Tier One. Seeing Phreak's location on the mini-map, Sterling frowns. >Sterling: Are you at the Waxy Boys camp? >Sterling: Those guys are tools. >Sterling: Haha. >Sterling: If you want actual help, then I know a few. Well, one, I guess, and myself. A girl named Cap'n Starshine, a friend of mine, does enchantments. >Sterling: I could send her a mail, if you want. Now that Lilian is taken care of, Sterling wanders out to meet up with Rita and Bercilak outside the town. Despite her steps seeming light and cheery, each one leaves a heavy imprint in the ground, stone or dirt. Hammer slung over her shoulder, she tracks their position on the mini-map until bumping into them in the forest. "Hello, miss Rita! And mister Bercilak." Falling in step besides them, Sterling eyes Bercilak's axe critically, gesturing with her own enormous hammer for comparison. "Have you figured out the trick to hunting with a weapon like that? Well, it's not the trick, probably, but it's one I figured out while grinding before. If you get the enemy down to low HP, and finish it off by hitting a rock with your weapon like you're golfing, it counts like a light improvised weapon. So you get better odds for drops." Sterling is visibly, overwhelmingly in her element, fighting through the dungeon alongside the pair. Casually, between jet-roars and heavy metallic crunches of her hammer, she chats with Rita, mouse ears twitching. "You have Harvest, right, miss Rita? Would you be able to pick up some herbs for healing potions while we're out here?" After a short pause, her tail flicking in unspoken thoughts, she continues, more casually. "Are you not usually the type to play games like this?"
Rita Ma	Rita's extremely enthusiastic on her hunting trip with Bercilak, but only a marginal help, since there's absolutely no way he'll need healing. She settles into the rhythm she's discovered: whenever an enemy has gone unharmed for almost long enough that its Clarity can start recharging, she cautiously prods it with her little spear or plinks it with a couple of her rapidly-dwindling supply of hurlant bullets. While wiping her forehead after yet another kill- for how little work she puts in, she has even less stamina- she musters up a brave smile. "That's okay, Mr. Bercilak! I'll just keep looking forward to a feather cloak, and that'll keep me going. Oh, but maybe you could try letting me finish them off?" The idea of being helpful adds a genuine gleam to her smiling eyes. Then- "Oh! Hi, Ms. Sterling. No, that's really smart. We should do that instead." It fades again with a tiny slump of her shoulders. The suggestion that she gather herbs perks her right back up again, though, and she responds with a dutifully eager nod. "Mmm! I'll keep an eye out!" "And no. It's my first time, Ms. Sterling. I don't really play games in general," she admits. "I think there was one time Mr. Bercilak held a party and they taught me something called 'Melty'? But that's really it." "What about you? Do you play a lot of these?"
Lilian Rook	//Lilian Rook: Oh, I see. //Lilian Rook: I haven't particularly tried any magical attacks myself. I should make it a priority to see how the game handles them. //Lilian Rook: I do miss my gear, right about now. //Lilian Rook: Hello? Are some messages not getting through? //Lilian Rook: I was saying that it should be salient to find out. If there are Compositions then logically there are items that lend towards them. Who knows if it's 'magical staves' or what. //Lilian Rook: Failing that, Clarity-relevant restoratives, accessories, Bars, that sort of thing. Ostensibly, to Ishirou: //Lilian Rook: Of course the game yells about hacking. You're effectively mind controlling characters, aren't you? //Lilian Rook: I mean, you are in real life, too. It's rough to tell outside of combat, the RESCUE-alike seems to be treated like a state, rather than an equippable. The gear he is using underneath still adds to his stats and is used in calculation-- annoyingly including his weapons. The suit is a very heavy boost, increasing hardness by a lot, absorption and raw weapon power by a fair amount, providing some resistances to environmentally-caused statuses (Drenched is the relevant one in there) and the abilities he already knows about, guzzling his CL as fuel. Eryl's efforts are considered 'interesting' by most, and Interesting by many. The game doesn't appear to have nets as a formal weapon category, but nets aren't listed strictly as gathering tools. Even just testing on monsters outside of town, he can weight a fishing net and inflict a low level of Bound status on most things, though the nets take tremendous durability damage in the process. A quick check finds: //Lilian Rook: Have Phreak or Bercilak show you the grove they got the Velvet Ghost from. It won't respawn for a while, and there's a harvest point for Hallowed Heartwood. Your Harvest skill is quite high. //Lilian Rook: I've no verification that atlatls are even a thing, but throwing weapons, and arrows, do add to weight, according to the few people who've experienced them, including when stuck in shields. //Lilian Rook: Black granite appears to be the heaviest and highest tier stone around. You've seen it on the islands. I don't know about strong rope. I should find that out myself, actually. Phreak's 'negotiations' with the coop, registered under the mailing group-- no, that's correct-- 'WAX OFF BOYS - GET HAMMERED GET ROLLED: SHAFT-GRIPPERS AND ORE-STRIPPERS POUND MY ANVIL UNTIL I'M RIGID', improve immediately once he makes them realize that he was involved in the whole camp and bandit duel thing. If only Berc were there to act like a fucking frat boy too. After a while his revised, somewhat better offer is thus: He teaches their mechanic ('traps locks and puzzle blocks', allegedly) in exchange, and doesn't peddle shit in town. And he can still buy the ammo, full price.
Lilian Rook	//Lilian Rook: The biggest. //Lilian Rook: I suppose he should be fine with ligher gear, given his Traits. But . . . //Lilian Rook: Do you particularly want to see him in 'light armour'? "It's excellent." Lilian verifies for Sterlin, with a sigh of mixed feelings. "It's certainly more aesthetic than the starting gear as well. I was beginning to feel a little bit naked." She turns this way and that, examining herself with the armour equipped; rolling her fingers to see the articulation of the fingers, flexing her elbows and lifting her feet up to her backside to feel any tension points at the joints, wiggling the ankle, reaching behind her neck, running her hands around her waist, and then one very ill-advised spin on the spot. A picky customer with experience in platemail, and dressed with longer skirts. She hesitates for a moment, putting the blade across her back, before asking, "Does it have a name?" The strange tenderness in the question is unusual. //Lilian Rook: We're mid-afternoon. Start putting in requests for what you actually want gathered. If we scrape up enough for full sets for everyone, it'll take forever. //Lilian Rook: Anything left over, we can sell. //Lilian Rook: Our cune is pretty low. Already far afield, Rita is relatively spoiled for choice, picking plants. Yellow-green lilies she finds growing out on the water, tough to see herbal vine mats, and orange moss on the lake-facing rocks, match the description for the primary ingredients of healing draughts at this level, making for a lot of work for what should be a staple, spammable item; certainly no minor gold tax to try and try again. Purple bell flowers growing from muddy banks go into defensive buffing potions. Certain types of kelp and water weed are relevant to the stamina buffs and air efficiency stimulants that might come up in the water dungeon. It is, unfortunately, some very delicious-looking berries, in orange and white varieties, that are mixed for two kinds of poison; one long-lasting, slow, and partially damaging Clarity, and one short-lived, rapid, and hitting HP directly. Thorny brambles and red lilies can be used to make a weapon oil instead. It strikes her that there must be fifteen to thirty different make-believe plant species here, in this area alone. More than she has time to gather up all of. Lilian passes by the fishing docks, with a load of brambles and berries of her own, bagged next to a jingling pouch of what might be ruin fragments, and a folded up craft kit nobody has seen in town yet. She double takes immediately at Angela and Netzach down by the water. "Oh come on. How did you get those clothes? Why did the rest of us have to wear the starting gear? Did you have a tailor recreate those from memory or something." She changes course. "You're really going to stand out like that, you know. It's obvious that you're from outside. Especially since you look completely human." She stares at Angela. "It's frighteningly similar to the real thing." she says, in answer to a question that wasn't asked.
Angela	Angela doesn't do much immediately. She looks out to the lake, staring at the water and just how big it is. The ocean, she reminds herself, would have waves and be deeper and bigger--her eyes wouldn't be able to detect the end of it if she were to look out at it through the shore. Dangerous in the way a doule edged sword could be, but... ...Her expression is wholly neutral as ever (and seems wholly unconcerned about the conceit that if they die in the game they die for real). Maybe she doesn't intend to do anything dangerous? Netzach starts reeling fish in and actually answers Lilian first, having no idea who she is because he doesn't read the boards or pay attention to notices and the like because he is incredibly apathetic. Not to the outside world, just in general really. Even at his most motived he is pretty lazy. "Fishing's pretty lucrative in games, not like real life at all." Netzach says. "...Standing out sounds like a drag..." Angela is jolted out of her reflections by Lilian Rook saying she looks completely human. She looks to Lilian and says, "Dame Commander?" She exhales a soft sigh, "Not from memory, exactly, just an outfit I thought up in my mind..." But Lilian then hits her Weak Point again. It doesn't quite stagger, Angela, but it does get her quiet again as she looks back out at the lake--wholly at a loss for words. "Does this world have an ocean too?" Angela asks. "I want to read the local literature." Maybe she's a video game LOOOOOORE fiend. Eventually she turns back to Lilian Rook and offers her a hand. They might not get the opportunity to shake hands for a while so she better take advantage of the opportunity. "It is good to see you, though I do not wish to keep you from your duties. Perhaps I can accompany you? Netzach will just fish all day." Netzach says, "Yeeeep," shamelessly. "If you've got any fish you need for your cookcrafting, happy to share with a neighbor."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	The mailing group is more of the same for Phreak, hanging out with who he does. It's just in modern English, instead of 'PUMPEN MINE HAFT AL-DAI (RELE) (FUL-HOMO) (GON HASEO) (GON FOURTE-NIGHT).' What he doesn't expect is the shift in reception, upon finding out his reason for wanting the knowledge. He has to fight back the impulse to knit his brows together in confusion. Then, the impulse to look away. What? These guys like me because of that shit? But... I failed. I wouldn't even be here, asking, if I'd been... A moment of hesitation follows, Phreak's face a stone mask--before his hand (organic) shoots out for a handshake. "That's what I like to hear," he says with convincing confidence. "Where's your pal? I can get started right away, if you get me some charcoal and paper." Phreak's Scoundrel Trait provides some insight into various locks and traps (granted, from the perspective of an intruder) but between his own practical knowledge of how it's done, his first-hand experience helping with Eryl's trap-field, and the knowledge the game provides, he should be able to give a clear enough idea to reverse engineer a few things. Bercilak, meanwhile, turns to Rita. "This," he says, tapping her spear with the cheek of his axe, "Is different from an axe. But there's a few pointers I can give, that'll help. Here, hold it like you're gonna to one of those pokes ... Okay. Now, the thing about this is that it's not just the arms. Get your shoulders, your hips, and your legs in on that action, too, sis. ... Yeah, like that. You got reach, and you got leverage. As long as shit is paying attention to me, you don't have to hold back. Really get that in there, you know?" He's enthusiastic about hunting and violence, generally--his burning red eyes spark when he emphasises 'get.' Sterling's suggestion gets a thumbs-up from him. "Sounds sick! What's 'golf?'" The mention of special wood near where the Ghost initially spawned has him summoning the Ghost itself with his Proof of Bond. The mount is huge even by Bercilak's standards, so there's enough space for Rita and maybe even Sterling to join him. "If you two want, I can take you to where I found my buddy here," he says, patting the eerie, otherworldly steed with a clawed gauntlet. "There's some special trees there you could get your Harvest on... with."
Eryl Fairfax	Eryl Fairfax: I should hope there are spear-throwers. But I would not be surprised if there wasn't. Eryl Fairfax: All cultures put in thought to make hunting as efficient as possible. Eryl Fairfax: But 'efficiency' is not what this game wants. It asks that you engage in risky combat. Eryl, who is totally not mad about that, gets to work. Eryl Fairfax: Misters Bercilak and Phreak, if you could guide me to the grove, I'd be much appreciative. Once he has a guide, Eryl gathers as much Hallowed Heartwood as he can. Following this, he sets about obtaining black granite. And with no word on stronger ropes, he just uses what he made for the tents. First, the spears. Easy enough to make, shafts of Heartwood tipped with granite g rinded down into sharp points. He makes an attempt at an atlatls with more common wood, and should the game support it, he sets about making one from Heartwood, made to fit the spears he's constructed. He also uses some left over to upgrade from his starter sling to a sling-staff, and gathering up small scraps of granite for ammo. If it's heavy, it'll hit hard. Bolas are made from rope and granite, but he does have an idea upon testing a fishing net on the wandering mobs. *Eryl Fairfax: I understand that metal is rare in this region, but would anyone be willing to spare some small scraps for an experiment? Upon obtaining some, he has it crafted into caltrops, and weaves them into a net. If he's right, the reason the nets take so much damage is to represent the struggles of the creature trapped in it. If that is the case, then by adding the sharp points in to discourage said struggles, he forces them to be still, or take extra damage upon freeing themselves.
Ishirou	Finalizing his changes, he closes that up and stands up. There will be some penalties he'll have to work through for a bit, but... well it should be worth it. Sighing, he asks into the party chat if anyone wants to test something with him and gets some silence on the line, and a lot of sass from Lilian. With a sigh, he is about to just consider walking around the town boundary so he doesn't immediately get dropped on by strong monsters, but it seems people are wanting to gather. Eryl wants to go there, and Rita, Bercilak, and Sterling will also be there...seems like a good place to try this out. He'll meet up with Eryl by the town entrance and walk with him toward Bercilak's spot on the map.
Petra Soroka	>Sterling: Stone it is. Watching Lilian test the comfort of her new armor, Sterling allows herself to bask in her pride for a little bit. It's a genuinely, unambiguously good feeling, to see her own handiwork be appreciated by someone with severely high standards, but, as always, ambiguity creeps in. Lilian holds her hands out in front of her to flex her fingers, and all at once, they're around her neck. 'Freak. Creep. Degenerate. Stalker. Masochist.' Sterling flinches and looks down at the ground, the radar on her head making one agitated ping as Lilian spins. Her fingers fidget inside of her smithing gloves, suddenly uncomfortably hot, and she slides her gloves down the side of her armor. Lilian's softer tone snaps her out of it, and Sterling looks up with a guilty expression. "Uh. Sorry. I'm no good at naming things. My own hammer doesn't have a name." Quickly regaining her enthusiasm, she bounces to her full height again. "It's your sword, though! You can name it anything. Let me know what you decide on, I'll love to hear it." Sterling smiles at Rita as she takes to gathering herbs, passively keeping an eye on her. "Bad luck with choosing this game to start with, huh? Don't let it scare you off, though, most MMOs only prevent you from logging out metaphorically." Then, with a distant, hollow tone, "At least all of your friends are here." Sterling freezes, considering Rita's question. She knows that Rita, of all people, won't make any assumptions either way, and it's both truthful and useful to talk honestly here. "Not usually RPGs-- um, that's role-playing games, like where you have levels and stats that grow. But I'm familiar enough, and with other kinds of games too, and it's pretty helpful to have that experience for surviving here." Sterling is a heavy character, when armed and armored, but still barely a fraction of Bercilak's bulk. If he can fit on the Ghost, then Sterling can too, and she hops up to sit sideways on its back, legs dangling over its flank. "You don't know golf? What sports do you even know, cyber-croquet?" Sterling's laughing light tone dies in her throat. She shouldn't know anything about Bercilak. "Y-you know. Because it's, we're in a video game. Anyways. It's like swinging your weapon to hit a rock that's sitting on the ground, that's all." >Sterling: So, to put together a gathering list: >Sterling: I can make armor for everyone with hunting materials, especially feathers. Mister Bercilak will need black granite for his armor, and we need ores for weapons. >Sterling: Anyone with high Butchery or Hunting could extract high enough quality bones for Tier Two weapons, too. >Sterling: If you all decide to enlist Starshine's help with engraving runes, we will need a lot of gold.
Friz	Moxie: Huh. Magical staves. Moxie: Hey, Savvy, call up a mental image of us with a magical staff. Savvy: Bringing one up on the mind's eye now. Dirt: Oof. Savvy: Mmmh. Moxie: Oh. Uh. Grit: That sucks. Moxie: Well, we'll look for an alternative. Friz winces for no clear reason. "Oh," She types, then nods a few times. "Yeah, that's a good reason. I'll start doubling back to the Derivation Bridge. That group we saved... they mentioned we should too. For materials." She decides to cease her Posting and head away from Yono. She'll want to lodge an order with Sterling, or whoever else might be able to get her an upgraded truncheon and armor. But if she wants that order filled, she's gonna start heading back to Derivation Bridge, intent on using her scouting abilities (and Rogers' intuition) to figure out where supernaturally-enhancing materials might be!
Rita Ma	Rita is, patently and absolutely, a novice; she wouldn't know proper weapon form in the real world, and the game's made her even less coordinated. But she's a determined learner if not a fast one; under Bercilak's instruction, she really puts her heart into the practice stab, with an adorable little "hah!" of effort. She looks back up at him with a wavery smile and a sincere "Thanks, Mr. Bercilak. I'll keep trying to get the hang of it!" She doesn't ask how she did, because she already knows any honest answer would sting, but it does feel nice to be getting a little better. As she goes about plucking a few more herbs, she murmurs: "Yeah. Bad luck." The sadness in Rita's voice is genuine, but not for herself. She can't quite meet Sterling's eyes. It feels kind of grotesque to keep pretending their misfortune's shared. "What kinds of games do you play, Ms. Sterling? Or-" with a wince- "did you play, I guess. I don't really know what kinds there are at all." Berc's promise of another Harvest spot- hence, usefulness, by proxy- makes her perk up. "Oh! Sure thing, Mr. Bercilak! Let me-" She tries to jump up onto the Ghost, falls vastly short, slams facefirst into its side instead, and then- with her eyes downcast and cheeks on fire- holds up her arms to get picked up by him or Sterling. "Um. Help, please? Sorry."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Sounds decent." Bercilak doesn't notice the cyber-croquet comment, or at least, doesn't draw any conclusions from it. He shrugs his shoulders, and engages with her question in good faith. "Boxing, football, what else... bike racing's cool. And that funny thing those American guys play. With the brown oval thing, hitting the shit out of each other." He nods approvingly. Rita, asking for uppies, gets a fond smile from Bercilak. He dismounts, lifts her up (careful not to poke with his clawed gauntlets), and angles her towards Sterling, who can help her up the rest of the way. "Hyah!" The otherworldly stag hauls ass, and a lot of it. Even so, Bercilak guides it such that the ride is minimally bumpy for Rita and Sterling. Phreak: Gold? I'm fresh out of that, sister. Phreak: I've got some traits and world skills for making money, but it seems like I don't really come online with that 'til later. Bercilak takes off for the grove where the Ghost spawned. Bercilak: Couple things. Bercilak: One, watch your step. Thick, thick fog the last time I was here. Bercilak: Two, this is for you, Eryl--try and come in from that spot I just pinged on the map. Less monsters on the approach. "Look familiar, buddy?" Bercilak asks the Ghost, once they arrive, petting the ghostly stag once more. "Take your time, Rita. We'll cover you. Thanks, by the way."
Lilian Rook	'It's your sword, though! You can name it anything. Let me know what you decide on, I'll love to hear it.' Lilian turns the blade over, sighting along the flat, where her fingers drift slowly over the golden leaf notes and out into the empty space near the tip. She suddenly smiles, strangely. "Gilty Revelrie." A quiet laugh. "Games love that sort of wordplay, don't they?" 'Dame Commander?' Lilian blinks, a moment of hesitation in return. She laughs uneasily. "Yes, actually. Though I don't look exactly like this in real life." Her hand drifts uneasily towards her head, then falls away. "Now I have to wonder if you look that good in person." She looks out towards the lake in quiet unison. "I'm given to understand it does. And plenty other exciting sights besides. Much more thrilling than living in the city, or the suburbs. A little more than being stuck in a big house in the middle of nowhere, too." Then, back. "Duties . . . I suppose. But why are you here if not . . . Did 'they' let you in?" A little snort at Netzach. Not ill-natured. "Anything is lucrative if you know where to sell it." Then "Don't you intend to at least eat it?" Meanwhile: 'But... I failed. I wouldn't even be here, asking, if I'd been...' "Yeah? And? Everyone else did too." comes Phreak's answer. "If you were the best for the job and you tried your best, then nobody could do it. Like, duh bro." The guy they bring out to learn from him is clearly very excited to learn about locks in a slightly unwholesome way, but the feeling Phreak gets is that he's going to enjoy fucking with everyone by locking stuff up as a prank, rather than the inverse. Teaching him the particulars of the actual logical and physical components is easy enough, but the actual process is a little complicated; Phreak loses a small amount of XP in the skill, in exchange for giving his student a much greater amount of XP; not enough to drop him a level yet, but enough to jack up his protoge by three. Allegedly, it's based on COG and CHA, with a Tutoring skill in existance, but it's worth knowing. Oddly, when Eryl cudgels his odds and ends together, a particular artifact doesn't quite escape him. There's a moment --possibly just one frame-- where the sequence of objects are still limply connected; a sequence of physics volumes, theoretically useful for mass and acceleration calculus. The way it suddenly becomes a Leverlance of Tier 1 and Durability 250 right after, feeling solid and wieldy in his grip, displaying in his equip slot and opening the appropriate three ammo slots along with it, would normally just feel like the crafting system lagged for a split second --too fast for most to even see. But it doesn't happen with his vastly better replacement for a sling, or after that. Net. Spears. Sling. Caltrops. Not exactly a usual loadout. People are sort of fascinated by watching him work. //Lilian Rook: I'm putting together some disposables as we speak. I'll only have ammunition for two, and I intend to make the second our detective. //Lilian Rook: Gold, though? I wonder where you're getting that. I'm about to test the alchemy system; with any luck, I'll be able to make gold the same way I do in real life. //Lilian Rook: Send me her information, please. A minute goes by. //Lilian Rook: Friz. Do you remember that rare item we found? From the Split ruins here, not in the previous area. I'm sending you a trade request. #æ¥°µ²©¬ - Tier 7 (1u, 0¤)
Friz	Savvy: What's the rare item? Dirt: Pulling it up... Dirt: The rest of the party found it. Dirt: It was something Bercilak brought up from the lake floor. Grit: A result of chance. Moxie: Chance is luck and luck is will. What is it? Dirt: I don't know. Savvy: Well, I'm gonna accept this. Friz takes the trade, tilting her head. "I wasn't a big part of that... do you want me to examine it? I'm not sure there's much I can do with that." She moves to try to adjust her nonexistent glasses as she continues her walk, getting some space between her and Yono as she takes the item from her inventory... "Rogers, what do you think?" She whispers, brandishing it out. "This material, what could be made from it? That's got to be the intention, in a game like this..." She wonders aloud, asking the ghost to turn his intuition on it. He offers his instructions, of course, whispered in a hidden voice. "Turn it over. Back again. Hold it up to the light. Now under the shadow over there. Set it down. No, other side up. Pick it up again. Where did we get it? Yeah, what part of the lake?" He's trying to prompt something deeper in the human brain, something far below the Savvy and Dirt and Moxie and Grit. Something nearer the brainstem, where the really ancient wisdom is. And something will bubble up to the surface, a Next Step, a connection to a particular clue, something.
Eryl Fairfax	The system lags, for 1/60th of a second. For someone like Eryl, this is long enough for he and Original Face to start worrying. Start wondering if the game master is doing something else, corrupting the system, getting bored and deciding to just crash it with no survivors. But then it finishes, and the objects combine into a "Leverlance." And it works too. Slowly, Eryl begins to smile as he takes it out to practice. This game world, while highly in-depth, is not perfect. There are areas unconsidered, concepts not implemented. He smiles at the players who came to watch him work, carrying his array of questionable gear. He supposes he can see why. MMOs are escapist fantasies, worlds of swords and sorcery. Who would think to attempt actual, realistic hunting strategies in them? He pauses, and slaps himself on the cheek. No need to start sounding like a character from those "transported to another world" series. Who knows how deep this improvisation goes? Enemies might have a resistance to, or awareness of these now. But, if nothing else, it's a gear improvement. This time they'll get through.
Petra Soroka	Somehow, Sterling doesn't put together why Rita seems unhappy; the idea that Rita is lying to her doesn't even register. Somewhere in the experience of being, it became easier for her to believe untrue things, rather than just perform belief. "What kind of games? Um, action games, I guess? Fast-paced ones, like... shooters. A-and you can say 'do', I'm not giving up on getting out yet! Especially not with you all here too, I know you'll figure something out." Sterling looks momentarily lonely. "I've always been a little jealous of that. That's why I wanted to be an Elite too, before. At least I can help this way." Sterling, seated on the mount, is briefly put out by Bercilak taking Rita's request first, but then she slides over on its back and helps Rita settle in comfortably and looks cheerier. There's no physical contact during the ride though, unless Rita initiates it, and Sterling spends most of it messaging people, her tail flicking nervously. >Sterling: Gold. Not cune. >Sterling: I'm sure that cune would help, too. >Sterling: I actually don't know where she gets it, ma'am. Starshine doesn't mine, and she doesn't bother with the Waxy Boys either when she can help it. Sterling pulls up the menu to mail Lilian Captain Starshine's information, then hesitates, a strange pit in her stomach. Something feels profoundly wrong about introducing Lilian to Starshine, beyond the instinctual gut terror of being caught. Starshine is her friend, and thrusting this separate group of allies onto her smudges the lines between the two in a way that feels instinctually threatening, to the way that each perceive her. Two differently perceived angles of Sterling, potentially scrutinized and talked about without her control, and even without Sterling being a mask, being studied that way is existentially threatening. After a little while longer grappling with it, Sterling ends up sending Lilian the contact information anyways. >Sterling: You should tell her the name of the sword when you meet, too. >Sterling: It'll make her happy. For some reason, it's really, really important that they like each other.
Angela	Angela hasn't spoken to Lilian in person before--as 'in person' as a place like this can be. It seems that Lilian doesn't look like Lilian in this place, though, so she wonders if it really counts as meeting her as opposed to a radio conversation with extra steps. It does occur to he that as this is a 'VR Game' there is the possibility of a dev listening in--though with a world as detailed as this, it would surely be difficult to comb through the files for a conversation like this. And what would an outsider even do? Lobotomy Corp's warpgate is not the only warpgate into the city but from what she remembers from Benjamin, they are pretty heavily constrained by the Nests. The City takes issue with people from the Outskirts heading into the City itself so she can only imagine how it'd feel about people heading in from a whole 'nother universe. It might be for the best, considering how many AIs she's talked to without even seeking them out. She's uncertain of the particulars as to what makes an AI anathema to the City. Perhaps Dragonfly would be able to pass as a 'cyborg'? Well, she doubts she'd try to but... Even here, she thinks, she can't help but think about these things even if that constant pain is a bit faded in a place like this. IT is almost like being outside, even though she knows she hasn't moved an inch. Virtual Reality is still a big jump from Nearly Wholly Divorced From Reality. She isn't sure she actually wants to swim in a place like this that might be under observation. Even in a place like this she is uncomfortable with the idea of wearing a swimsuit in a place that can so readily observe her doing so. Also, she does not know how to swim though she is certain she would figure it out quickly. Yes, she's very confident in that. But she isn't going to anyway for other reasons. Honestly her body might not really allow it normally though in a virtual reality... Lilian compliments her appearance. This is...the second time she's been complimented for her appearance. Is that going to be more common when she interacts with the outside world? How does she feel about that? "I was created to be as close to human as they could design me." Angela says, not quite sidestepping the observation. If the first blow didn't stagger her, consider her well and truly staggered now. All attack types now do fatal damage. She cannot analyze the purpose of the compliments. She doesn't know what to say to it and she doesn't want to say she is still unaccustomed to such offerings. She already feels more disarmed than she's comfortable with being. "You'll have to see me in person, I suppose, to find out." She says instead, which is the best response she can come up with. She still feels it is insufficient, like she's missing some key component of the conversation. Is it because she's not a human? Or is it a simple lack of experience. It's something she's noticed a lot out in the multiverse is that as confidently capable she is in managing Lobotomy Corp matters--she feels as incapable as her first day of activation in regards to anything else. It is not a wholly uncomfortable feeling, but it does make it difficult to wholly calm down too. "Agents brought back the VR Headset. We are ... testing it to develop a Safety Trianing regimen." It is probably not especially convincing considering how Netzach is acting and how they didn't even know that death could result from playing. "The manager did not object." Because he hasn't become A again, Angela suspects. "If this is a mere simulation of reality..." Angela looks back out to the lake. "The real thing must be more incredible to experience." Benjamin had warned Lilian of her desire, but it seems Angela is gathering up plenty of it for herself already. It's possible that it has taken the form of an unstoppable wave within her and it is only a matter of time that it washes away anything between her and the ocean. Metaphorical ocean and literal o
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Phreak would ordinarily be less than thrilled to give up XP like that--but he legitimately hadn't expected the positivity and didn't seem to know what to do with it, aside from hide his face by looking away, in the moment. Afterwards, he takes to learning the craft with a zeal he probably wouldn't have, absent the brief spark of positivity. Maybe they're not complete jabronis. "Thanks. Listen--if you guys need something moved in bulk down the line, don't fuck around on the roads and risk attracting attention from dickhead bandits. Give me a call, and I'll cut you a discount." He taps an index on the silver badge pinned to his armor--the emblem of an envelope is etched into it. Back in the forest, Bercilak laughs, one gauntlet on his belly. Atop the Ghost, he towers even more than he usually does. And in this foggy grove, his lantern eyes, taken with his slightly transparent mount and its fractally-forked antlers, he looks both at home and somewhat menacing. The Green Knight smiles down at Sterling. "'Can help' is an understatement, first of all. You've been a huge help. And second, look me up when all this is over. I could teach you how to use one of these," he says, holding his axe aloft. "And how to ride. Maybe that's enough for Elite, maybe not. But I'm happy to help somebody make a difference."
Rita Ma	Rita's shoulders bunch up and her legs dangle when she gets lifted, which makes her look a little like a begrudgingly-grateful spiritually-soggy cat. "Thanks, Mr. Bercilak," she says, and only a little bit of despair creeps into it. The smooth ride brightens her up, at least. The scenery is genuinely beautiful, and Rita's less desensitized to greenery than most. A couple of times, when an especially colorful vista opens up or the ambient wildlife do something cute, she points with her eyes almost sparkling and tugs on Sterling's shoulder to make sure she sees. Somewhere along the way, her arm loops around Smith's waist for security. It's a normal thing for normal girls to do. "Um, Ms. Sterling? How does it feel to have a tail like that? You don't seem to mind it, but... isn't it 'wrong'?" Only once they've arrived at the foggy grove- and she's hopped off with a little stumble- does she uncork more thoughts that must've been rattling in her head the whole time. Busying herself with the Gathering, after all, makes the words flow easier. (It helps that her embarrassment has had time to fade, too.) "Mr. Bercilak's right. You've already been amazing. I know having strength here doesn't have much to do with having strength outside, but... you have a good head for being a hero, Ms. Sterling. That's what I think." After a moment's more thought: "You remind me of my brother, a little bit." "There's not really anything I could teach you, but... why did you give up on it? Becoming an Elite, I mean."
Lilian Rook	What comes to mind? The item is an insanely high tier; 2 is as high as it goes for a while still, according to the beta testers. Lavis and Vermilion had higher tier gear, and came from the Split. The red-alike light brings to mind factoids about the human perception of red being both unique and largely kludged, especially in dark spaces. It's like that all over, in the Everse. A parallel world. A twisted mirror, invaded by another plane. Ancient history and lore, of fallen powers. Symbols always mean something, so it was once meant to communicate something. But what does one singular character mean? It doesn't look shattered. Sort of like a rib. Probably the middle one, vertically. Like-- ??? Note/??? Bar - Tier 7 (Compatible ???) Type: Accessory A few people dare ask Eryl what his plan with all that crap is, and one asks for a recipe (and where he learned it). Nobody offers to buy it, semi-fortunately. It's questionable what skill it even uses. //Lilian Rook: Bring enough for the class. //Lilian Rook: I'll find out if this culture/faction makes silk, seeing as we won't find nylon here. "I suppose I will~" Lilian says to Angela. Her tone is a little too catlike to really be called frivolous. She interjects second, with a hand up. "Sorry, but I'm not all that interested in your creators. A lot of android types do that, and it's always the life story of some shitty nerd I'll never meet. Your parents are the most boring thing to talk about with anyone; tell me about yourself instead, if you're going to aim for personal time." Uncannily, she glances out to the lake again. "Or we could go swimming. Or join your boyfriend fishing." She raises an eyebrow at Angela's explanation, but, mercifully, keeps her mouth shut, and brushes off the topic right away. Instead, she replies, "It is, in some ways. And in others, it's a withering disappointment. Sometimes people are more honest when they lie. The fictions they create about themselves are more sincere and artful than what they can really manage by existing. So it's the same thing when people represent reality, rather than just themselves. This, like all other fiction, is a representation of someone else's thoughts. Whatever they find beautiful will be beautified, whatever they find reprehensible will be reprimanded, everything will make sense, every question will have a satisfying answer, every character will have a reason for everything they do, and we'll all be allowed to be the better version of ourselves." "I can't tell you that the ocean really makes up for how different reality is." //Lilian Rook: Thank you, Sterling. I'll make certain to make a good impression. //Lilian Rook: If she's your friend, then we'll surely get along. //Lilian Rook: And if there's anything I can do for you, feel free to ask. Phreak gets the reaction he'd expect from a people who aren't often trusted by adults, when he invests his secret into the 'Waxy Boys', as Sterling calls them. It's a strange feeling, to know that the three guys who come out to teach him hurlant plans, are all sacrificing a little of their XP for his benefit too. Idiots who worked hard for it. The schematics are promising; two staggered barrels instead of single shot, and a more convenient mechanism like a partial break action; the predecessor to an en bloc clip. Eighty points of attack is a big leap from his starting forty, though its Dissonance value has hardly improved; Clarity is still an issue. It weighs a unit more, but the recoil value is lower. It might handle new loads. //Lilian Rook: Bring me any herbs you won't have use for. I'll be working on weapon oils and powder until nightfall. We might as well sleep in-game, given how little time has passed outside.
Petra Soroka	Sterling doesn't shy away from Rita's touch, not on her shoulder or around her waist. The casual ease with which Rita does it, though, stirs up complicated and conflicting feelings inside her, to the point that she finds it hard to react to Rita's excitement. Is it just easy for her to touch people like this? Is she just like this with everyone? Why do I feel so bad about that? Maybe I think that we're closer than we are. Sterling tries really, really hard not to let any of that show on her face. She perks up slowly throughout the ride, reinvigorated by Rita's delight, and starts getting into pointing out the wildlife with her. A flurry of small, brightly colored mammals dashes out of the brush, and Sterling squeals, pointing them out. "Look, miss Rita! Those are just like--" She pauses, then finishes lamely. "Those are cute." Sterling's mouse ears twitch at Rita's question. "I didn't choose to have the tail. It just showed up after I spawned in. It's just there. I'd get rid of it if I could." Sterling frowns, but her annoyance seems to be directed inwards rather than towards Rita. "There's just been higher priorities. I could redesign my armor to hide it, though. Is it that weird to you?" Sterling lingers on the Ghost's back for a few seconds after it stops in the grove, then jumps down. With a surprisingly quiet thump, her armored boots sink a full inch into the ground, and she has to make an actual effort to pull them out. The tall, armored girl plants the head of her hammer in the ground and leans on the haft, looking away when Rita and Bercilak both compliment her. "I-- I don't know. All I've really done is help with a couple minor fights, and make miss Rook a set of gear. I can't really... move anything ahead, like you all do. I don't have the conviction to be a hero. I don't ever really know the right way to go, without someone else going first." Sterling coughs, twisting up her hair with a gauntleted hand, then awkwardly laughs. "Sorry. You didn't ask for that." Sterling wavers, her shoulders trembling slightly. She still hasn't looked at the two Watch members since arriving at the grove. "I'm-- I'm sick. In real life." The words tumble out of her mouth, and she reflexively cringes at the lie, and Rita's reaction. But she can't let them think they can meet after the game. That would be insane. "In a way that medicine can't treat. That's why I can't be an Elite, not the way I want to be."
Rita Ma	Rita, having stooped to gather some wood, straightens up with her back to Smith. "No," she says, after only a second's thought. "I don't think it looks weird on you, Ms. Sterling. But if I had it, I think it'd feel weird to me. You really got used to it, just like that?" Normal people can just accept it, I guess. Rita stays quiet while Sterling talks, and for a good few seconds afterwards. An ordinary person would jump to reassure her. Rita can't. Those doubts hit a little too close to home for her to go opening her mouth. Instead: "I'm sick. In real life." "Yeah. Me too." Her voice is weak. It feels halfway like a lie for her, too. So Rita still doesn't turn around, occupying herself with scraping some bark off a tree while pretending it's a gathering point. "It's awful, isn't it. When it... keeps you from being the kind of person you want to be." "But here, we can be anyone we want, right? Or almost." She finally looks back over her shoulder, with that brave little smile that Petra's learned to read more into than Sterling could. "I'm happy I got to meet this face of you, Ms. Sterling. If you'd choose to be this, I think your heart must be pretty. So I hope it all works out for you someday."
Angela	Angela is called out about doing something that all AIs do and it's boring to her. Just like that, her joy evaporates away into a slew of negative emotions. She's just another AI. She is doing the same thing a lot of androids do. She might be a one of a kind being in her home world, but out there in the multiverse, her lived experience doesn't even seem to be that uncommon. It rankles at her. If she wasn't made this way, would this instinct about speaking of herself not feel like...a difficult habit to break? She withdraws deeply enough that she doesn't even get to answer it before Lilian's Speed Die just lets her take another strike against her--and Netzach... Who nearly drops his fishing pole in alarm. "Wh..what? I'm just... a Sephirah, ma'am." He's been hit hard enough that he has regressed to the point where he actually was semi-professional. "I'm not sure any of the Sephirah are really---And besides, it's Ang--" A look that could puncture an armored tank is directed at Netzach. It isn't really too different from looks he's gotten from Tiphereth so he knows there's nothing he can say that will get him out of trouble, only things he can say that would get him into more trouble. He wisely clamps his mouth shut. "I understand you are teasing. Nevertheless, that is not how I see Netzach. He is a troublesome colleague who barely does his job." And honestly (she tells herself inaccurately) she doesn't really see them as her parents either. Is she just a fictionalization of Carmen? ... She should follow Lilian's advice and stop talking about her parents. Maybe then she can stop thinking about them. "I can tell, from the agents, that reality is difficult and harsh." The reality she wishes to escape to is the City itself and even if she doesn't know much about it--only hearing snippets here and there from the people she works with--she does know that it doesn't seem to be a pleasant place but this little slice of heaven created for some other woman is frankly her little slice of hell. She still wants to leave. It is a desire that she cannot stop. If she does experience it, will she be able to handle it? Or will the banality of reality shatter her? She isn't sure. "But I wish to step into that world all the same. I already experience plenty of dissapointment within the facility. It is overflowing with disappointment that I suspect will spill out of its well some day. It will be different, and that is plenty for me right now. Maybe when our work is done..." "When our work is done... we'll be able to rest..." Netzach says, half as warning, half as gentle reminder. "...Yes, I suppose so." Angela doesn't sound thrilled by this response, however. "I have been able to read quite a bit. And I've started a list of desires. The Ocean will not have to satisfy all of reality, it is simply the first on a list." She is wholly oblivious of Rita's presence on this game. "Perhaps write a book...? Even if I cannot do these things," She adds this, ever conscious of Netzach's presence. "At least I can write down these things and imagine." She gestures to her outfit as if to suggest how deep that imagination can run. "Swimming, I can add that to the list--though for now..." She nods once to Lilian. "I will take you up on your offer." Lilian reminded her how temporary this all could be. It might be her only chance and enduring some embarrassment for a once in a life time opportunity--she is not QUITE so prideful as to refuse. "I imagine it is not too difficult." She adds, which is hopefully not foreshadowing. "I am new to this multiverse, but I have experienced a great deal of... kindness. Offers of friendship. It is uncomfortable in some ways." She WAS asked to talk about herself. "...There are also a lot of tiresome discussion of eth
Angela	"...There are also a lot of tiresome discussion of ethics, I've noticed, that tend to roll around in circles but that seems, so far, a small price to pay." There is a bit of hesitation there as if these discussions really do make her secondguess this statement for a minute there. She is quiet for another moment as she backpedals into more produtive discussion. "Let's try swimming. It will provide material for whatever I end up writing someday." There, if it is research for this future project of hers.... She just hopes the swimsuits are respectable.
Friz	"Looks unreal. Not supposed to be here. Not sure if the world would rather it gone, or if this thing would rather, but someone said it's gotta go. Look at all that sickly red." "Right, the color red isn't real (in terms of eye structure)." "Found it near the Split, didn't they? Who made it? Which side did it get made on?" "It's like the everted (invaded?) plane." "Take a look at the sign there. Symbol. Something important if it looked like that. Can see it from near every angle." "But what do you communicate with one symbol (like a shortcut, isn't it)?" "Something you're proud of. Or ashamed of. Memorializing. Remembering. But it can't go un-seen. Gotta stick it in the brain." "What would someone be proud of? Or 'memorializing'? (Everything from that stage is already dead, we can't use process of elimination...)" "This place, kid, it's layered up, pressed down, like a garbage dump of history, a place where dead people left behind important things. It's an accessory. Might as well be a charm." "What would you even accessorize with this? What was it even cut from?" "We know this is one'a those Bars. Now we figure out what it's compatible with. Plugs into some weapon, some armor, maybe it'll even be a place where those crafters do their crafting. But it plugs in. Eyes out for the socket, otherwise you let this chance slip through your fingers." Friz finally exits this ghost-communion, rubbing her eyes. She's back to her messenger. "I took a look. Seems to be a Bar? But I can't tell what it plugs into, or goes on. Which is a shame... its Tier Seven! It's Note and... something else. But I wasn't able to get more of a lead. Maybe something at Derivation... or, probably, something ahead of Yono."