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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2014 3:05:50 GMT
Status: Get A Whiff of That Fresh Mud
Weapon: Antiqua Longsword (1H) | Armor: Antiqua Chain Mail |
1) He was confident in his level (Level 16, thank you for asking), sure that he could strike down most monsters single-handedly.
2) He only had one friend (who wasn't even sure if she liked him that much...), and she was too overpowered. She'd be drawing the monsters in like moths to a flame.
Despite having a small list of friends (er, friend), Oxford continued trekking onward, his step light and his spirits high. He felt unusually good today as he nearly skipped to his destination.
That is, until his boot got stuck. No sooner had the Guardian crossed the threshold into the Marshlands, his boot was ankle deep in the putrid, foul-smelling muck that was just a few patches short of covering everything.
(Ha ha, no worries. Just need to watch where I step from now on...Wait, is this the Marshlands? Just how far did I manage to wander this time?)
The waylaid adventurer made no hesitation in pulling his foot out of the mud and resumed the momentarily paused journey. His second boot made a loud *SQUELCH* sound as a little mud managed to seep into it.
(Oh, come on. I haven't even found a monster yet and I'm getting beaten by the terrain...)
No sooner than the thought formed in his mind, dozens of Grimy Swamp Snails emerged from the overgrowth, some sliming on trees as they moved about.
They didn't pose a threat to Oxford. In fact, it didn't even seem like they even noticed the Guardian was around. One of the Snails was even beginning to climb up his leg, not a care in the world.
He let out a small laugh, taking delight in how carefree and easy-going these Snails were. He pulled his boots out of the mud after some effort, and removed the snail that had made it to his knee. Oxford placed the Snail back on the ground, setting the creature back on the right path.
Realizing that he had headed too far out of the Windsor Greatwoods area, Oxford turned around and headed back, enjoying the weather. He found himself a nice clearing, giving him a clear view of the sky.
(I honestly forget that this place is a game sometimes. Everything's so vivid and detailed here.)
Big fluffy clouds made their way across the big blue sheet of air, moving at about the same pace as the snails from the Marshlands.
"Heh, even that cloud looks like a snail..."
Oxford had no need to worry about others hearing his random mutterings to himself. After all the adventuring and questing he'd done with others, this was a nice break from it all.
Just a simple walk to get away from the monotony of in-game life. No quests, no mess. Just the sun on his skin and the wind at his back. Sensing no enemies to be around, Oxford unequipped his armor, leaving him in his comfy leaf-green shirt, a memento from another time and another place.
The relentless flow of time trickled ever onward, leaving a dozing Oxford in it's wake.
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The Adventurer stood upon a hill on an island, endless water surrounding him on all sides. A girl with long hair stood at his side, her long hair flowing with the ebbing of the wind. She turned to him and smiled, a kind, loving smile that you would only show to those who you cared deeply about.
Oxford looked at the figure, not able to make out a face or any other discernable features. Yet, despite not knowing who this girl was, she felt...special. He felt like he needed to protect her, no matter what, and he felt like she would do the same for him.
He looked behind him when he realized that there were more people on the island besides the two. Other faceless people stood behind him, some tall, some short. Another kind of feeling could be felt for these people, more akin to deep bonds brothers and sisters would share.
He turned back to face the seas when a rumbling could be felt beneath his feet. The sun shone brightly in the air, casting beams of lights onto other islands as they slowly floated into view from the horizon.
Dozens of figures could be seen on each island as they drifted closer, the land masses almost touching before the rumbling ceased as suddenly as it started.
Bridges had appeared, connecting the floating bits of earth together as Adventurers from each island began milling about. The group behind him began to move as well, embarking onto other islands as they met up with people they recognized.
He couldn't help but smile as he saw some of them hugging each other, some of the rowdier ones slapping each other on the back as they laughed. Sniffles could be heard and tears of joy could be seen everywhere on the island, as well as the other islands as Adventurers from different realms reunited.
The girl suddenly turned toward to face him, taking Oxford's hand in hers.
"You see? They managed to find the ones they care about."
The faceless girl ducked her head, and said her next sentence quietly, as if she were talking to herself.
"Just like I was able to find you..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A strange feeling tugged at Oxford's chest as he woke up, the feeling you get like when you lost something that was important to you. Oxford looked down at his hand that he had laid on his chest, now clenched as if he were clutching something.
The dream began to fade from his memory, but the stirring in his chest from the girl talking to him remained, leaving him confused about the whole ordeal.
"I guess even in my dreams, I'm nothing but a sappy romantic..."
He let out a sigh as he let his head fall back, thunking the tree he slept against. Oxford lazily brought his hand up to access the menu, equipping his armor before getting his groggy self off the ground.
(Maybe it's a sign of things to come...or I have really weird dreams...)Words: 1051
OOC Notes: Follow along at your own risk, dear reader.
Tags: @0x1dea |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2014 6:03:11 GMT
Status: A Long Day's Grind
Weapon: Antiqua Longsword (1H) | Armor: Antiqua Plate Armor |
Oxford whistled, doing it in short bursts to emulate a bird's chirp, seeing if his vain attempt at communication would be answered by the flittering, twittering avians.
To his surprise, one landed on his shoulder, hopping around as moved its head around, looking like it was thoroughly studying Oxford. He slowly raised his finger for the bird to hop on, but the bird politely declined, fluttering off into the branches above the Guardian's head.
He knew it wasn't a big deal, but it made him feel sad for some unknown reason. Not even the narrator knows why, and he's practically omnipotent. The good mood he had been feeling had disappeared, leaving Oxford with a sour taste in his mouth.
Now he felt grumpy, like life was out to sour his days with lemons, but he'd chuck those damn lemons right into life's face and watch it writhe, begging for mercy when it knew that it would receive none.
(Whoa, that's getting a little dark...Just calm down, it was only a bird...)
Luckily, a couple Pittered Boars came running through the grass, aggroeing on the grumbling adventurer as he walked aimlessly towards them.
"I think I'll try something different today."
He unequipped his sword and shield, raising his fists as a boxer would often do before trading fisticuffs with his opponent. He decided he was gonna play the role of a Monk for a little bit and STR these boars to death (or de-spawn if it tickles your fancy, you little, detail-specific bastard).
The boar on the left charged at the Guardian. The Guardian rushed as well to meet the boar's charge.
Oxford grabbed the beast's tusks, sliding backwards a little from the boar's momentum, but then he swung the boar around, the furry pig-maggot slamming into a tree. The boar fell to ground, disabled for the moment.
Oxford turned his head, glaring at the mob as if he dared it to make a move. The beast, sensing the severe difference in levels, began to turn and make a run for it.
"Where do you thing you're GOING?"Oxford activated the [Taunting Shout] ability as he yelled the last word of his inquiry at the other pig-maggot. The boar turned around, aiming his Hate at Oxford.(Well, that's fine by me, because I've got some Hate for you, too.)This time, Oxford was the one to charge, yelling as he did so. The newfound disappointment from before had changed to rage somewhere along the line, Oxford's mind going blank as his body seemed to move on its own.Left jab. Right jab. Right jab. Low kick. Harder kick. Uppercut. Another KICK. JAB. JAB. MORE JABS. MORE KICKS. HARDER AND FASTER, FASTER AND STRONGER.He finished the boar off by booting it in the face, the mob disintigrating upon contact with another tree. Oxford stood there panting, feeling a little better, but still thoroughly pissed.Hearing the snapping of a twig, Ox instinctively faced the direction of the sound, the other boar shaking its head as it got up. It pawed at the ground as the enemy readied itself to take on the perturbed Adventurer."Seriously? Did you not just see what I did to your friend?"(Well, you probably didn't since I knocked you out, you disgusting bag of pig snot.)Already wasting too much energy, Oxford re-equipped his sword, and used [Aura Saber]. The result of the wide blast not only decimated the mob, but also part of the surrounding area. The tree that the Monkish Guardian threw the boar against had fallen after the blast disappeared, crashing to the ground with a large *THUD*. The commotion caused birds to fly out from their places, scattering here and there to get away from the supposed threat.Oxford snickered, getting revenge on the species that caused him his weird, unnecessary anguish.(Yes, that's right. Find some other adventurer to toy with, you conniving bird-brains...)Then another thought struck him: the birds had probably made nests in those trees, nursing and raising their young to carry on their parents' legacy. The thought of injuring baby animals brought Oxford back to his senses.He began to search through the branches, carefully pulling leaves aside as he didn't want to touch the nests directly. He didn't know if the parents would abandon them if they detected his scent, like back in the real world.His search turned up nothing, which was a relief. He didn't know how much more unnecessary inner turmoil he could take. Feeling a little better, Oxford began to whistle again, continuing to walk down the trail.A bird landed on his armor with a small plink, chirping a little as it hopped around. Not breaking his stride or pausing the flow of air between his lips, he swatted at the bird, causing it to fly away.(Boy, I'm gonna make a great Animal Trainer someday...)Words: 867
OOC Notes: --
Tags: @0x1dea |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2014 16:39:07 GMT
Status: Boars and Weasels and Snatchers, Oh Mai
Weapon: Antiqua Longsword (1H) | Armor: Antiqua Plate Armor |
As if the narrator suddenly willed it, a level 10 boar jumped out, accompanied by two level 9 Briar Weasels. The boar looked to be a little scruffier than most, looking like it actually went through a fight and won.
"Ah, you must be the leader, then. Here to get revenge for your boar bros back there?"
Before he knew it, Oxford then began some weird back-and-forth conversation, giving the leader boar (let's call him Meatbun) the personality of a common deliquent punk you'd see in any of the one of many animes revolving around school life.
"Eh? You think you can beat my pals and get away with it?"
"Well, sorry, but if you were looking for a fight, you should've start with someone more on your level."
"Wha-?! Do you know who you're dealing with, ya little pissant?!"
Meatbun charged forward, its tusks gleaming as it dashed. It steadily picked up speed as it crossed the distance between the two.
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM?! I AM THE LORD OF THESE WOO--"
Meatbun, formerly known as the Lord of the Woods, couldn't even finish his thought-up sentence when the Guardian sidestepped the charge, giving the deliquent boar a quick swipe with his longsword as it dashed by.
Oxford turned to face the other two assailants, hefting his sword on his shoulder as he raised his shield with the other.
"Alright, how's this sound: I won't use my sword, but I can hit you with my shield. Sound fair?"
The weasels hissed at him.
"I'll take that as a tentative 'yes.'"
The weasels wasted no time in rushing him, their viney tails twitching here and there as they unleashed their weasel screeches of enraged power. It was like they were charging valiantly at a powerful foe to avenge the fallen.
"COUNTERBREAK."
Their brave onrush was turned into a comedy act, tumbling over each other as they flew backwards. The difference in levels was enough for them to take quite a hit, over half of the weasels' HP gone.
Oxford chuckled at their antics, the weasels wobbling around as they tried to figure out what had happened. One managed to get close to Guardian, randomly opening and closing its jaws as it tried to attack him in a punch-drunk way.
He lightly hit the weasel with his shield, the creature falling over on its side and disappearing in a poof of data bits.
"Huh. That was a bit anti-climatic..."
The other one still wandered around, managing to get into a fight with a bush in the process. The leaves and twigs rattled as the creature continued to thrash in the wild shrubbery. Oxford just stood and stared at the scene, laughing the entire time as he watched the weasel gnawing on various branches.
After a bit, the weasel suddenly realized what it was doing, the red glow of aggro disappearing from its eyes. It turned to look up at Oxford, still gnawing on the twig it held in its little paws, and gave him the cutest look a wild animal could give.
Oxford couldn't help letting an "Awww..." slip out of his mouth, slowly reaching down to see if he could trying Scouting it with his Animal Trainer subclass. The red glow came back, the weasel baring its sharp teeth at him.
"GAH!"
Out of reflex, Oxford whipped his hand back and slammed the one with shield on top of the weasel. The electronic information of the data leaked out the sides where the shield met weasel, a data cloud rising up to the air when he lifted his defensive piece of metal.
A Snatcher never did show up, disappointing the narrator for using such a clever and aptly named title.Words: 675
OOC Notes: --
Tags: @0x1dea |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 15, 2014 5:58:49 GMT
Status: Help, I've Fallen, But I Don't Want to Get Back Up
A curious sight greeted Oxford as he awoke to a brand new day.
A cart was broken in the road, and along side it was an old Lander man, leaning on a pole as he sat amongst the rubble. Being the kind-hearted individual he was, he ran up to the elderly gentleman to see what had happened.
"Excuse me, sir, but are you alright? Did something attack your cart and halted your journey's progress?"
The old man suddenly sat rigid, as if he just now realized that the Guardian was talking to him.
"Eh?! Whazzat?! Who--Oh, don't scare me like that, young'un! Ya nearly scared what little life I have left outta me!"
This response left Oxford severely puzzled. A old man was sitting amongst a ruined cart, and apparently, the gent had been napping the whole time.
Not even a fictional British professor of archaeology and his young apprentice could ever hope to solve this queer problem that lay before Oxford.
"...Sorry about that. And again, what exactly happened here?"
If the guy started his story at the day of his birth, and worked from the ground up until he hit this spot, he may have to relieve the man of what little essence of life clung to his sorry old bones.
"Well, you see..."
Oxford held his breath, getting ready to turn around and walk out of there if they were going the memory lane route.
"...I don't rightly recollect."
The breath he'd been holding back was suddenly expelled, as if the cart had been restructured, and then lovingly placed on top of Oxford. The Guardian shook his head, ready to play the sleuth to see if he could jog the man's physically handicapped memory.
"Okay...well, if you don't remember what happened, do you remember how you got here?"
"Hrmmm...well, I reckon' I walked here..."
Oxford brought his palm to his face, letting out an exasperated sigh.
(...Why am I trying to help out Rip Van Wrinkle again?)
Not wanting to waste any more time, Oxford gently grabbed the older man's arm, attempting to help him get back on his feet.
(I could probably get him back to Londenium. It'd be a lot safer than sitting around in a forest teeming with monsters.)
"NOOO! WHAT'RE YOU DOIN'?!"
Oxford immediately let go of the man's arm, the older man sitting down with a heavy oomph.
"Don'tcha realize how important this spot is t' me?"
"Apparently not. Frankly, I'm surprised you would remember that detail."The old man readjusted himself repeatedly, almost frantically as a look of terror was etched onto his face, the wrinkles underneath his eyes sagging enormously as they widened in panic. But then, relief washed over him, sighing as he managed to find the sweet spot he was in before."Ahhh, this rubble does wonders fer me glutes..."What. What is this I don't even.Figuring this was one story that he didn't want to know, or even finish, he picked up some of the rubble and fashioned a crudely-made sign. Slamming it in the ground next to the old man, he scribbled a quick message on it before leaving.HERE SITS A SOON-TO-BE DEAD MAN - HE FOUND THE PERFECT SPOT - (I'm sure the old fart will forget I even made the stupid thing.)Words: 550
OOC Notes: --
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Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2014 16:28:18 GMT
Status: Taming Training
Another day had passed, along with more shares of battles that left him grimy and tired. As he sluggishly walked along the path, he thought he heard the sound of running water somewhere. Oxford followed the sound, the noise leading him to a small pool with a waterfall flowing into it.
Making sure that there weren't any other adventurers in the vicinity, the Guardian stripped down to his birthday suit and jumped in. The shock of the cold water was enough to kill a man, but this was a level 36 man accustomed to the world around him. A level 1 player who would've attempted this would probably find themselves back at Cathedral.
Taking an old article of clothing he'd bought a long time ago, he used the shirt as a washcloth, scrubbing away the dirt and grime from the past days follies. After cleansing himself, he swam over to the waterfall, letting the forceful torrent wash over his head as it cleared his mind.
Taking another cloth, he dried himself off and re-equipped his appropriate attire, leaving the towel/shirt draped around his neck to dry his hair. Oxford scrubbed his scalp furiously, intent on wringing every last drop from each strand of hair. He accomplished that mission, but it left his hair in a weird form, clumps of it sticking out here and there.
As he tucked away the moist shirt, he saw a face peering at him from the bushes. It was a Brier Weasel, a level 9 one at that, but instead of immediately administering Hate to the Guardian, it watched with a tilted head. Almost as if it was wondering why people decided to clothe themselves instead of running around stark-naked.
Oxford tilted his head as well at the curious sight. He remembered hearing some rumors of times when the more aggressive monsters wouldn't aggro on adventurers, opting to instead continue doing whatever creature-things they were doing.
He slowly approached the weasel, taking care around it after remembering an earlier incident he had that involved a setting very similar to the current one. When he tried to Scout the last one, he ended up squishing it under his shield.
This time, he tried a different approach, opting to gain its trust through feeding it instead of attempting to pet it. He pulled out an emergency sandwich ration, tearing a piece off and slowly held it out to the weasel. He took a bite out of the rest in his hand, hoping to convey to the creature that it was edible.
The plan was a success so far. The cute weasel's black eyes shone, it's little nose wriggling as it caught the scent of the meal offered it. It opened it's mouth as it slowly reached out to the morsel...then promptly stole the rest of the sandwich from Oxford's hand.
It dashed up a nearby tree, sitting in a branch as it munched on the sandwich, scarfing it down like it hadn't eaten in days. Normally, the Guardian would be a little peeved right now, knowing that an animal had just conned him out of his emergency lunch. Instead, he shrugged and popped the remaining morsel in his fingers into his mouth, munching on it as he turned to continue on with whatever journey he was doing.
(Probably for the best. Poor thing looked like it was famished.)
As he started to walk, a flash of movement from his right swerved around and stopped right in front of Oxford's leg. Looking down, the Guardian saw the same weasel, standing on its hind legs as its front were propped against Ox's leg. It looked up at him with those same dark eyes, as if were expecting another treat from the Half-Alv.
"What? You fleece me out of my food and you're STILL hungry?"
The weasel yipped at him, the kind of yip that a fox would do (if that's what the fox says). It's tail twitched about in a happy manner, slowly swaying from side to side as it looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
Well, the animal was successfully Scouted, but not in the way Oxford had hoped. Knowing that its effects wouldn't last for very long, he picked up the weasel and placed it on his shoulder, the weasel crawling onto his head and onto the Guardian's left shoulder as Oxford began to walk.
"Heh, a southpaw."
The new duo didn't have to travel far, the weasel spying some apples in the tops of the trees. Turning to his new temporary partner, he asked it the following inquiry, not knowing how it would respond.
"You think you could jump up there and grab a couple for us?"
The weasel's response consisted of it climbing onto Oxford's head, then using it as a springboard to get itself into the tree's branches. It whipped at the stems of two apples with its tail, Oxford catching both of them as they fell.
The weasel jumped back onto Oxford's head, resuming its perch on his left shoulder.
"Here you go. Enjoy your spoils."
The weasel eagerly gobbled at the apple the adventurer held up to it, Oxford taking a bite out of the one in his other hand. It was peaceful day as the enjoyed their meal, Oxford glad to not have lunch alone for once.
But like all good things, it had to come to an end. The weasel jumped from his shoulder and into the brush, turning around to give one last look at the Guardian as it ran back into tangling grasses of the woods.
"See you later, pal." Words: 933
OOC Notes: --
Tags: @0x1dea |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 20, 2014 20:28:18 GMT
Status: Taming Training, the Part of Twos
After a successful Scout encounter, the Guardian decided to see what other kinds of monsters he could rally to his side (even if was for a short amount of time). As he thought about what animal to work on next, a momma Pittered Boar and a couple of her young ones trotted across the path. They walked from one side to the other, not evening paying attention to the Guardian as he watched them travel. There were about 5 of the younger boars with her, one of them falling behind the group as it turned to look at Oxford.
It gave a little snort as Oxford slowly approached it, not wanting to surprise it or make it squeal. He'd hate to have to deal with an over-protective motherly beast. He crouched down, trying to make himself to not look so tall and imposing to the small creature, slowly reaching his hand out towards him. The young boar paced in place, not really scared, but more like it was prepared to attack/run at the first sign of danger.
"It's alright, little guy...I'm nicer than I look..."
His hand was close to the boar's snout, so close that he could feel it's warm, moist breath on his hand. Suddenly, the boar licked his hand, taking Oxford by surprise. He forced himself to stay crouched, almost jumping when its sticky tongue hit his palm. Seeing the boar's reaction as a sign of acceptance, Oxford patted the small hairy pig on its head, partly to show he didn't mind the gesture, and partly to wipe the boar spittle off his hands.
After the Scout skill took effect, the boar began to look around for the rest of its group, the young one realizing that it had dawdled for too long and got left behind. The boar's mother and the rest of its siblings had already disappeared. The new friend of Oxford's began to let out small squeals, sounding more like the pig-equivalent of whimpering.
"Hey, hey. Don't fret, I'll find your mom."
He didn't have time to head off before the mother boar popped out of the brush again, its eyes red and stomping at the ground, shaking her head to show off her dangerously sharp tusks.
The Guardian pulled out his shield, not wanting to kill his new friend's primary caregiver, but to defend himself from her attacks until the Scout skill wore off. In fact, his level was high enough to not even take much damage from her assault, but you never knew what might happen. Freak accidents can happen anywhere, even in a game world such as this one.
The mother's attacks bounced harmlessly off his shield as he positioned himself to guard each time she repositioned. Even though she knew she wasn't dealing any damage to the Guardian, she kept up her barrage. Oxford admired her tenacity, hoping that the skill's effect would wear off on the boar. A mother would always attack without any regards to her safety when her children were involved.
After a couple more batterings from the mom, the young boar ran to its mother, getting in between her and the Guardian. The violent mother calmed down, swatting the boar with it's tusks into the brush, as if prodding her child to move its rear and keep up with the rest of the group. Oxford was then left alone again, deciding not to mess around with the fragile family connections that still existed within the Greatwoods.
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The Guardian wandered about the woods some more, pulling out his notebook as he thought of names for a pet whenever he got the Domesticize ability. Finding a good name was always hard, as he wanted to find something that matched up with the animal's personality. Also, let's not forget that this was a guy who spent a good 5 to 15 minutes deciding on what nicknames to give to his captured critters in a popular game revolving around pocket monsters.
As he walked about jotting down potential names (hmm, Mufasa or Leeroy?), a couple of Frenmic Rabbits popped out of a bush. Again, these weren't particulary aggressive, although they seemed to be annoyed at the realization that the Guardian was watching them.
(I must've walked in when they were going over basic mathematics and multiplying.)
Sensing a stare challenge, Oxford just stood there watching the pair, waiting to see what they would do next. The rabbits answered the unspoken challenge, their little noses twitching as they breathed rapidly. Time stood still as the two parties stared at each other, the forest remaining unnervingly still as they stared into the depths of each other's souls.
Not a sound could be heard, save for the blowing of the wind and the rustle of the trees. Whenever Oxford blinked, so did the rabbits. His nose twitched as he felt a sneeze coming on. The rabbits' noses did the same. Oxford opened his mouth. The rabbits stared at him wondering what exactly it was the Guardian was trying to accomplish.
I'll go ahead and tell you: absolutely nothing. The Half-Alv was just playing around with them, seeing what else he could get them to mimic. He did a little hop, hoping the movement would send them running off. To his surprise, they responded, hopping forward the tiniest bit. Then it was Oxford's turn to move forward. Then the rabbits. Then Oxford's. Back to the rabbits.
The little sackless sack race continued until the rabbits were right in front of him, both of them looking up at the adventurer with curious eyes. Finding them too cute to resist, Oxford crouched down and patted both of them on the head, the bunnies' ears lying flat as he scratched their heads with his fingers. As he stood back up, both of them stood on either side of Oxford, then jumped forward, both looking back at him.
A tree stood by itself a short distance away, the rabbits looking at the tree, then back at Oxford.
"Oh, you wanna race, huh? Alright, first to the tree wins!"
He started off with a giant hop, trying to go easy on them since he didn't figure they could hop as far as he could.
Nope. The rabbits were already leagues ahead, bounding so easily it was if they were levitating over the ground. It reminded him of the way deer would bound through forests, leaping over rocks and logs as if they were nothing. By the time he got halfway, the rabbits were already at the tree, dashing off into the woods as Oxford finally arrived at the finish tree.
The Scout effect had seem to last a little longer this time, the budding Animal Trainer finally getting the hang of taming animals without anything negative happening in the process. He wriggled his fingers, counting them to make sure that they were all still there and not in the stomach of some wild animal he had failed to tame. He'd been bitten plenty times before, but that was because he tried taming animals with a sword. Not really the most peaceful way of making friends with nature.
Having enough of merely befriending the local wildlife, Ox now set off to find that weasel from before, hoping that some other adventurer didn't kill the little guy off in their rampant bloodlust. If they did, then Oxford might be tempted to commit the sinful act of player killing on the stupid bastard that offed his one and only viable friend choice.
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The Guardian found himself back at the pool, trying to retrace his steps to figure out where the amusing weasel pal of his might be. He remembered that he had done a little skinny-dipping in the pool to clean off the grime and filth from earlier fights, but taming animals didn't work one hard enough to reward themselves with a bath.
However, he was feeling a little thirsty. He walked to the edge of the pool, scooping up handfuls of the water and drinking them down. He was on his third cupped handful when the earlier thought hit him: he had been BATHING in this water earlier. As in, water washing over every crevice and pore of his body.
He spat the water out, now viewing the stuff in the pool as bath water, which is something one should never drink (unless you're weird like that). He opted to wade to the waterfall, knowing that that water probably came from a purer source.
Oxford thought he heard a rustling in the brush somewhere, but ignored it.
(Just a combination of wishful thinking and the waterfall crashing into the pool's surface.)
He stopped in front of the giant moving current, cupping his hands in the same way as before to bring the water his lips, slurping it noisily. All of a sudden, a second head appeared next to him, the familiar head of a weasel putting its head into the current to get itself a drink.
"Oh. Hey, you."
The funny little weasel turned to face him, its fur matted down with water from its brief scuba diving test run. It looked at the Guardian innocently, crawling up on top of the Guardian's head and wrapping its tail around himself. Oxford chuckled as he began to walk back to the shore, trying to keep his balance as the weasel continued to look down on all from its moving perch.
"If you're not wanting to get wet, you might wanna go ahead and jump of-WHOOP"
The Guardian had stepped on a slippery rock, losing all traction and footing as his foot flew out from under him. Oxford's size and weight caused a giant spout of water to erupt as he hit the surface, emitting a resounding SPLOOSH. He spat out a stream of water, digging around beneath the water's surface to find his glasses that he had lost during his fall.
He realized that his friend was missing, not to be seen in the water anywhere. Instead, the little bugger was sitting at the edge of the shore, scratching himself with his hind leg as a soggy, dripping Oxford pulled himself out of the pool. The weasel waited until the heavily moisturized Guardian dried off his armor before climbing back to his adopted spot of Oxford's left shoulder.
"Man, something tells me you might be more trouble than you're worth..."
The weasel replied to Ox's statement with a yawn, as if it didn't phase the creature in the slightest. Ox chuckled as he scratched the creature's head, the weasel then rubbing its head against Oxford's cheek in its own way of showing affection.
(I wonder if I'm a high enough level to Domesticate now...surely I've got enough experience by now...)
He pulled up his skills list from the menu, looking to see if the skill was available for him to use.
"Well, whaddya know..."
There it was. Domesticate, the description being a long-winded explanation of "turns an animal into your buddy." He looked at his hand, then back at his weasel friend. How do Domesticate?
Not really sure how it all worked, he took his right hand, raised it over the weasel's head and gave it a pat on the head.
"Bam. Domesticated."
So far, so good.
A screen popped up in his HUD. A keyboard, slots for letters and a little weasel icon were on the intrusive panel.
"Oh yeah, I gotta name him/her/whatever it is."
He still hadn't managed to find a suitable name for his new weasel companion. He didn't know its personality well enough to find a name that Oxford could be satisfied with. The weasel jumped down from his shoulder, chasing after a bug that took flight from a flower. The soon-to-be-named creature jumped at it, trying to either catch it in its paws or nip it with its mouth. Ox laughed as he saw this unfold before him, the weasel rolling around and leaping as it chased after the swift insect.
"Hehe, omoshiroi."
The word stuck in his head. 'Omoshiroi', in case you didn't know, is the Japanese word used to describe something 'funny' or 'interesting.' Now that you what the word means, you can understand why it stuck in Oxford's head. The weasel was an amusing companion, always doing something clever or unexpected. He pecked at the floating keys, the name becoming clear in his mind.
"O-M-O-S-H-I-R-O-I."
Deciding that the name was a mouthful, he deleted all but the first three letters, confirming on the screen that the weasel's name was now 'Omo', a catchy sounding name combined with the abbreviation of an foreign adjective. Omoshiroi.
He looked around at his inventory, a new sub-screen popping up. It looked to be like a monster storage system for Animal Trainers, a weasel icon in one of them while the others were a dark gray color, indicating that they were empty. Deciding that one was enough for now, he let out a short chirp-like whistle to get Omo's attention.
Omo perked up at the sound, losing interest in the bug and now focusing on the face of its new master. Oxford patted his shoulder, Omo quickly climbing up the Guardian's legs and torso to sit on, giving its master a lick on the cheek before settling down.
"Dammit, nobody told me you were so frickin' adorable."
Omo gave a yip in reply, crawling up to the Guardian's head to sit all high and mighty as if it were daring anybody to challenge (well, challenge Oxford). Ox let out another chuckle, walking back towards the fruit trees they had gotten earlier that day.
"C'mon, let's go see if we can find ourselves a snack."
The wind picked up, as if the heavens themselves were blessing them on their journey. Or maybe it was challenging the weasel to see if it could blow the haughty creature off its mobile pedestal. Words: 2313
OOC Notes: --
Tags: @0x1dea |
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