ii. the search-cont..

[Death Lotus]

WORDS TAGS NOTES LYRICS W/E ?

The use of Hiding Entry started to become a little too much for Cassiopeia to bear. She leaned up against a tree, the ability breaking and warmth returning to her skin. It was a nice to feel the warmth of the sun again, Cassiopeia never cared much for the cold. She wasn't against it, but she definitely preferred it to be warmer. It was mostly due to the pleasantness of the warmer days compared to the dreary cold weather. There were those that told her about snuggling next to a fire or walking hand and hand with a lover in the snow, but she never experienced either. To Cassiopeia, snow and cold weather meant being cold and lonely. She rubbed her skin to hasten the warming effect, at the same time sifting through her menus with her free hand. Having the time to think about it, she was extremely glad that the menus could still be accessed in whatever this scenario was. It made checking up on herself that much easier, such as showing how badly hurt she was, what skills she could use, how much energy she still could put out. Assassins were more weapon based, so stamina would be a key thing for her, but she could see abilities didn't drain her resources. No matter, for she didn't plan to use them very often anytime soon. She couldn't help but think of how helpful menus would be in the real world. Imagine a doctor being able to view a status screen about an injured person and know exactly what to do. Of course doctors were that skilled anyway, but the menu would make training doctors much easier. It didn't take too long for her to recover, and she was off again. After a short while of wandering, Cassiopeia realized just how similar things looked. Not how similar they looked to the game, which was something she understood long ago, but how similar things looked when compared to each other. It was incredibly easy to get lost out in the wilderness, but she possessed unique skills that helped her maintain her course. Wandering didn't have a course, but she wouldn't lose herself. Being such a book smart person in the real world, she had a high memory level. It was what chose her to pick her subclass in the game. Scribes could create copies of documents like taking notes, but more important was their ability to create maps. She couldn't physically create one in the moment due to her lack of paper, or so she thought. Buried in her menus, Cassiopeia came across her old crafting material. It was the most basic of material, though it was more than enough to create a simple map. However, she was unsure if she should use the menu to create it or walk around drawing it herself. Everything pointed to doing things on her own, so that is what she decided she would do. If it were anything like fighting creatures, her body would know exactly what to do. Her brain needed to catch up.

LAIKA OF GS!

[Aeon]

Aeon had spent a good part of the day trying to make his way up into a tree, it took him around 2 hours of just scrambling up and down the bark to get high enough to grab hold of a suitable set of branches to get himself into the tree.



As he sat on the branches and the leaves, he looked up into the sky as the clouds flowed majestically with the wind. “this was the life”



He sat mesmerized staring into his grimoire, reading the spell within in it over and over thinking of ways it could be possibly modified.



He heard on the ground a crunching on leaves as something moved through the forest. Aeon peered into the depth of the forest, seeing a figure moving its way through.



As it got closer, Aeon shifted his position in the tree.



He could see a red haired adventurer. Feeling rather bold and confident that he could handle them if they were a PKer, he decided to call out “He-----“



There was a sudden cracking sound, the bark began to tear and split, splinters burst from the branch.



He was falling from the tree, mid word tumbling down it across its roots, his cloak wrapping its way around him as he fell.



Now he was lying down pretty much in the dead centre of her field of view, like a tortoise on his back, bound tight in his cloak.



He groaned, yet again he had fallen off of something. He was pretty sure something must be cursing him now.


Word Count: 261