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⬣//SPREAD, CONTAMINATE, ERADICATE
You've had a chance to adapt to your new circumstances and make peace with what your life has become… hopefully. If you haven't, don't expect life to get any easier.
A few things have changed in recent days. Healing no longer works as effectively as it did in the past. If you're in the habit of behaving recklessly, don't expect one of Fragment's few healers to pick up the slack. Broken bones will now remain broken no matter how many healing spells are cast on your shattered limbs. Damage to organs can't be repaired with the wave of a wand.
What's more, HP and SP restoring items have gotten harder and harder to come by. Potions are no longer available for purchase at generic NPC shops and gatherable items needed for crafting have become fewer and fewer in number, limiting your item making options. If you've gotten into the bad habit of injuring yourself heedless of the consequences, it's time to rethink your lifestyle. Playtime is over.
Think of the three core memories that have formed and shaped the person you are today. Some will think back fondly on family and friends while others have been jaded by the ill treatment they've received from important figures in their lives. In any case, it's of little concern to you now. One of those three precious memories has vacated your mind, taking with it a vital piece of you that you can no longer get back.
You may choose one of the three key memories listed on your application to be taken away from your character. Choices are limited to the memories supplied in your application and additional memories submitted for the previous memshare event or not eligible for convenient plot-induced memory loss. Choose wisely, because you aren't getting it back.
And Sky Fish, and Disco Knives, and Evil Armors…
Has anyone noticed the monsters around town lately? Which town, you may ask? The answer is all of them.
Monsters have invaded Root Towns in large waves, attacking anything and everything in sight. Any lovingly crafted signs or other furnishings you've erected around town are easily torn to shreds and destroyed by the monsters who have come to roost in your once safe Root Towns. On the plus side, PvE and PvP has now been enabled in all Root Towns, which is excellent news for those who wish to combat the monster invasion and those who can't seem to help hurting themselves and others.
These monsters range in level from 50 to 75, and while many of them can be defeated with a bit of ingenuity and teamwork, some of them boast impenetrable shields that no regular attacks or spells can break through. They are also immune to status/potion/armor effects.
When in doubt, turn to your fellow players for support. There may be some among you who know how to deal with these impossibly strong monsters, but there's no guarantee that they'll want to help you.
A lilting, boyish voice sings to you in your sleep. His voice sounds familiar to you, tickling your heart like a call from an old friend, but this is no friend of yours.
"You had every chance to abandon this world and return to your own. What stopped you? Was it ego? Hubris? In any case, it's too late for regrets now.
They say the world is what you make of it. Doesn't the same hold true for reality?"
The voice will periodically visit you and your sleep, but the moral of his message never changes: you did this to yourself. You were trapped here because you chose to look the other way. If anyone is to blame for the current situation, it's you and you alone, but there is a̸̬̲͔̘͈͚̠̫̘̬̗̖̋͑̉̓̿͛̈́̋͐̃̾̈̕̕ͅń̵̩̱̠̫̖̬̲̻͉̝̈́̀̀̚͜͜o̴͍͎̣͔̤̝̲͍̺̿̒t̴̨͚͓͍̜̮̥͊͑̿̈́̉̂̐͜͠͝h̷̨̨̦͕͖̙̞͙̗̗͎̬͛̂̾̋̅͜͜͝ȩ̸͎̭̙̜̯͎̯̳̮̘̲͒ȑ̸̡̧̢͓̠̦͙͇͍͎̭͑̈́̓̿̓̅̑̅̌͑̈́̕͝͝ ̴̧̼͕̟̬̰̞̮̗͔͈̬̙͍̈́̀w̵̗̖̩̘͇͖̲̩̫̣̗̙̲̌͜a̷̛͎͋͑̃͛̆̈̋̑̋͠y̴̡̬͕͈̗̫̯̟̯͊͐̌̀̐͑͘͝͝.
Another h̶̦̘̤̘͐͑̿̂̏̎͋͝o̴̧͖͚̖̜͓͂̏́͒̑̈́͝͝p̶̡͙̏̉̿̎̀̑́̈̆͌̉e̷̡̡̦̣̯̘̺͍̟̰͍̤͛̀́̚͝͠. Will you heed that voice and call to it?
no subject
So is that Uta chick, but you've read the news, haven't you? In real life, she's dead. Maybe you can't tell with all those bandages wrapped around your head, but I'm no dog. "In time" doesn't work for me, so how about you be a little more straightforward?
no subject
[ The real "fuck off" answer. Hien sends the dogs away in a similar manner of shooing children before the adults get into a serious conversation.
He doesn't even give Yael the respect of standing and remains sitting on the ground while talking to him. ]
no subject
Nothing Yael isn't used to. Yael lacks a flair for the dramatic, unsheathing a single twin blade and brandishing it like he means to do nothing more involved than separating the limbs from a frozen lump of chicken. It's with the same rote movements that he presses the tip of it to the underside of Hien's chin, allowing him one last chance to consider if this is truly the hill he wants to die on.]
It's your funeral. I wonder who'll miss you? From the way you act, you'd think there'd be no one around to bury you after you die.
no subject
How spoiled of you, to think having someone burying your carcass is a god given right.
[ He's not angry. In fact, he won't correct Yael. That's how he lived most of his days. If he died, then he died. That would be the end of it. There would be no burial for a disposable attack dog.
He raises his hand to grab the blade with his gloved hand. How he wants to break this sword in two to render it useless permanently. ]
Should I take this as you wanting to fight me?
[ He holds tightly onto the blade. ]
no subject
The tip of his blade pierces the soft underside of Hien's chin. Rivulets of bright red blood trickle down the steel.]
It's you or me. Make your choice.
[Yael's grip doesn't loosen. Unless Hien acts quickly, the moment he lets go of his blade is the moment Yael lops the head off his shoulders. One of them is going to die today. That much is assured.]
You were a pawn from the very start, huh? That sucks, but this is the life you chose. You wouldn't take it back if you could, would you?
no subject
He's made up his mind.
While still holding the blade mostly at bay, he grips onto the staff with his hand that's free—a staff that's seen so much violence despite its symbolism resembling Caduceus. Truly, Hien is the embodiment of irony.
Because he viciously swings it an attempt to hit the side of Yael's head. ]
no subject
So he's decided to fight back after all. Talk about lucking out. Where would the fun be if Hien lied down and accepted death? Wicked smile growing wider, Yael rolls back, parrying Hien's staff on the curve of his blade.]
Stand up. We're just getting started.
[With that, Yael takes a step back and prepares his other twin blade.]
no subject
Then he speeds off towards Yael, ready to do the same thing of bashing the side of his head--
Just kidding. It's a feint and he's actually going for a kick to the throat. ]
cw violence and ouchies
The hit connects, the heel of Hien's boot digging into his trachea, but Yael welcomes the hit. He allows it just so he can shift, catch Hien's heel on his shoulder and push down on his knee, bending his knee backwards. Try walking that one off.]
cw continued violence and not good injuries
cw injury description
[ Hien hisses at the pain of the knee being bent back the other way that he slams the end of the staff onto the side of Yael's head as hard as he can while trying to jerk the caught leg back to himself. If that's successful, he'll try to correct it abruptly after backing off. ]
no subject
He grins through the pain, shouting his jeers as he swings his blade with reckless abandon in opposing directions. If he's lucky, he'll cut the head right off Hien's shoulders, and if he isn't?]
Put your heart into it! Your life's on the line!
[Well. He's left himself wide open, and as far as Yael sees it, he'll win either way. Live or die, succeed or fail. It makes no difference to Yael now. This miserable man is going to give him what he wants either way.]
cw possible gore
cw: possible gore
[ His heart? Hien hasn't heard the saying before, so it confuses him for a short moment.
Not like it matters, because he sees an opening after parrying some swings with his staff, shoving them away and uses his staff to bludgeon Yael's head. He's expecting to see bits of shattered bone and brain matter on the bridge now.
Naval Monte is right here. It won't take too long to get him into a casket. ]
cw gore
Yeah, there's a sight he's used to. It's a bit surreal seeing his own body fall apart in front of him, but he's already committed himself to his task. He's already prepared to die.
Yael stumbles, dizzy and disoriented, and aims to bash Hien over the head with the butt of one twin blade. He's badly injured, but Yael's all smiles, working the blood around in his mouth until there's enough of it to spit right in Hien's bastard face.]
...You get nothing out of this, eh? Sad. I feel bad for you.
[Good. He never took Hien for the psychopathic type. The others will be safe in his hands, assuming the man doesn't chase his own death.]
cw gore
... That assumes that I wanted anything out of this in the first place.
cw: gore
[ Hien takes the hit, which only aggravates his head wound, but he needed to stay still so that he can smash the final bludgeoning over Yael's face. A man who wants to die no longer needs his face, so he's here to smash it in with the rest of him--the bits that fall on the floor. ]