Search results

@Seto Kurama x @Nyancy The perfect blend of easygoing Nyancy to pull the composed Seto out of his comfort zone and into the carnival. Meme all you like, but this is the one. Just you wait.

"Understood." Unfortunately, and perhaps unavoidably, Harlow allowed her warning to enter into the same folder as the others warnings he had received. It was a habit for youths, and he was far from the wisdom or fearfulness required to heed every caution. With a childish sense of invincibility...

He was relieved to hear her response, confirming that she was who he was looking for. It would've been embarrassing for him to greet a stranger as he did here. Then again, the way the game forced him to speak was already fairly embarrassing. Not an expert in social affairs, it was known in...

If things were the same as in what was often deemed the real world, Harlow was far from the best navigator. This world, however, offered some tools to mend such inabilities. After scanning a collection of maps, he had managed to compile a working reference for location management. Even better...

Harlow was a bit confused. This all still felt like one of the many convoluted tutorial introductions, wherein a collection of NPCs come forward to subtly present mechanics. These characters before him lacked that subtlety. On top of that, some of them seemed to be actual players, fourth wall be...

Once they were in the tavern, Harlow felt, albeit in a dulled fashion, the warm breeze that wafted in from the well lit, lively establishment. Somewhere within, there had to be a fireplace. He slid to the side to evade a party of adventurers making their exit, before scanning the room for seats...

As his body took on a less restrictive freedom of movement, he began experiencing more spreading pain across the plantar surface of his feet, as well as a collection of scrapes and minor wounds he had collected. Shoes would be a fine investment. He could only hope that this combat would not...

Overall, Harlow was impressed with the player-base's involvement. After all, whenever he had played games in the past, other players were typically very uninterested in stories or lore. Maybe he had involved himself in the wrong groups, but previous experiences suggested that this group's...

Harlow didn't get out enough in the real world to experience these kinds of awkward or blush-inducing situations. Thankfully, his racial choice seemed conveniently restricted to this, to hide his more natural, innate reactions hidden beneath a focused and cold expression. What they were brought...

Harlow wouldn't have been difficult to find. For some time after his initial appearance in this world, he continued to return to forest of his origin, meditating at the foot of the various power stones. Whether or not he truly was managing to siphon power from them was debatable, but his passive...

Okay. So Avery was absolutely another player, not a doubt about it. He had one or two friends in his life that were more so video-game obsessed than himself, so he recognized the dialect with ease. This information was shuffled away into storage. He heard the questions posed to him by the Ice...

"That's. I. Negative." A few incomplete processes that were quickly canceled and replaced with another, until he conceded into to a simple rejection of everything. It took a reasonable amount of social finesse to draw a stammered response from the typically structured, stoic swordsman, and this...

Harlow was surprised to hear Ludmilla mimic one of his vocal ticks. Her simple enough explanation of their situation that she had produced was something Harlow would've loved to have been able to say himself, or at least something similar. Despite this, he knew that whatever his initial message...

"Affirmative. Not too near. I awoke some time ago in a forest. Brisshal. On the other side of Astorea. Over." Harlow answered the question from the Ice Mage as to his origin literally, without turning his eyes away from the path forwards. He had a steady, unwavering pace that carried his...

Ludmilla's response had surprised Harlow. While his perception was keen, it would've taken more specialized mastery, he presumed, to deduct at the level of detail she had managed when examining the tracks. His own vision had pointed out of the evidence of something, but what she knew was a trove...

If the breeze were to have found him outside of the game, Emerson would've reacted differently, but the biting cold wouldn't nip so sharply at the exposed limbs of Harlow. Only upon one of the menus visible within his gaze did a meter tick downwards, indicating a decline in temperature, as what...

Paranoia began to course through his veins… If he had such within his anatomy. Curiosity on that topic struck as his gaze lowered from the forest's darker depths to the surface of his own hand. The digits responded, though he felt no blood within. Could one feel their own blood? Maybe he was...

A glowing indicator around the individual standing a few paces forwards would blink with briefest crimson, indicating danger, as her posture shifted. In another game, this might be reflected by a pair of crossed swords. If able, Harlow would have leapt to his feet in preparation for the imminent...

"Apologies." He spoke as his company seemed frightened by the sudden appearance of the sword. "Negative. Only when they're used as weapons." He replied to the question of whether he minced pears often. Though, as quickly as the sword had formed, so too had it vanished back into the same socket...

Emerson squinted towards the clone on seat before him. He didn't fully trusted that this was only the character configuration screen. After all, there was something terribly uncanny about seeing oneself when no mirrors were present. As he approached, a tentative fingertip descended to press...