Burning Sun [CLOSED]

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ @tagged ✐ 000 ✉ Setting: Currently at the edge on Horunka, just before noon. Availability: Open to all~ Notes: A thread for sleep relaxation and fun~ Kitferge Lv1

Kitferge curled up in the sun, the tall grass surrounding his small frame. His body, which was usually tensed, seemed relaxed, his dagger out of sight. Even his eyes were closed, his breaths evening out. His blonde hair, which was usually kept away from his face, was splayed out neatly behind his head, and his eyes fluttered open occasionally. The warm sun made it a perfect place to half-doze. The teen had heard that there was trouble in Horunka, but didn't really care. He had his dagger near him, sheathed and waiting underneath his abdomen, and there was virtually no one in the peaceful village, so Kitferge assumed he would be okay. To any passerby, the boy would look like he was asleep, but in actuality, he was awake and half-dozing, the warm sun and soft grass lulling him into a pleasant daze. His eyes opened, lazily taking in the picture-perfect scenery, down to the idealistic blue sky, cloudless and bright, and the swaying, bright-green grass. His eyes closed again. He had gone in the game on a day like this, caught in a meadow with Kathleen, just sitting there and dozing off, her fingers in his hair. Kitferge sighed, and merely curled up tighter before unfurling, opening his eyes fully, still sleep-worn, normally sleek hair windblown and his small braid amongst his locks was free, his dagger placed next to him as he stretched lightly, taking in his surroundings again.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kaito]

"I'm no hero. I can't save my own life, let alone another. I was never a "Sapphire Samurai." Just a ronin fighting for ideals I can only hope to aspire to." ☒ Kitferge ✐ 1239 ✉ If you don't succeed with little "girls" or with player killers, maybe his luck will change with one of both varieties. Kaito Lv3

“One...” Kaito began to count as the vines started to swarm at him, that machete-like saber feeling like it was doing its duty as green sap splattered from his blow and slicing through the “trunk” of the Little Nepenthes, its squiggling root-like tentacles thrashing about franticly as it tumbled over, flailing only a few seconds more before twitching into stillness and dissipating into blue fragments. He spun around to see four others, their giant humanoid mouths like some frightening Rolling Stones icon come to life grinning fiercely as they approached. But the dark haired man felt no fear, not to these things anyways. They were a few levels lower than he was, the mechanics feeding his courage, along with the fact that these things were normal enough that he and the other Rangers would take care of them on a normal basis. As their twin vines shot out to grapple him, Kaito ducked and rolled under, putting himself closer from their winding grasp and swiped upward, cutting apart their limbs as the smell of cut grass filled the air. “Two…! Three…! Four!” He panted out loud, punctuating each number as he cut the creatures down left and right. Here a slice across the mouth, dislocating its maw and sending the top flying apart from the body. There a downward chop, teeth cracking as he cleaved into the jawline. He threw himself into combat, but there was a dull, flat look upon the older boy’s face as he was doing it, as if he were doing just some basic chores. And in a way, it was a chore, or more accurately a quest he was on to find a random drop amongst a field of these things and bring it back to a woodsman. But some days it was finding a random item in town, or culling the herd of X amount of enemies and… it was beginning to take a toll on him. The faces were beginning to meld together from one NPC to the next, even if they weren’t but every day it felt like someone needed something. But right now Kaito needed something and he knew he wasn’t going to find it in a random drop. That night in Tolbana was still on his mind, or the night in the Black Forest, or at the gates of the Town of Beginnings. So many lost or missed connections, so many misjudgments and outbursts. He really didn’t know how to interact with another people normally, did he? Or at the very least know how to judge someone. And the only person he saw to have some semblance of a possible normal relationship with he let go before he made more of an ass of himself in front of her. Maybe I just belong on the field too, away from everyone. This is where I can only shine… He thought bitterly as Kaito’s mind wandered, a hiss of hunger coming from the gleaming white-teethed maw as it reached out to bite him. His black eyes darted back to catch him coming, not letting him get the chance as he stabbed through its mouth, the Little Nepenthe convulsing with the blade inside it as Kaito wrenched the curved sword through its cheek, slamming it to the ground as it explosion of blue pixels before continuing his count, “Five… ah, there it is.” Floating in a collection box in front of his vision, along with Experience, Col and items collected was the hand axe that the woodsman had lost in the gullet of one of these things, Kaito reaching out and tapping the Close button and sheathing his blade. It was time to head on back and get this finished up back in Horunka. The trek back was unfortunately beautiful like most days through the pillar fields of Floor 1, which felt like it mocked him as the mild, warm weather seemed to tease and desire for him to slow down and rest and pretend everything was okay. It was painful to think that Argus had created a paradise that made one forget just what their bodies must have been crumpling into as they laid in hospital beds. Maybe he was gaining that Front Liner or “Clearer” mindset that some of those that have been tackling the Dungeon like mad have been having. So as he moved down the road towards the small town, seemingly normal from the outset. Some say its hit by a weekly event that turns the town’s “safe” status off and a swarm of monsters come in, kobolds even, and if no one is there to stop them, prices for basic goods go through the roof. Maybe I could take a look into that later… huh…? His black eyes that were focused on the small, simple huts and hovels were averted when he thought he saw a glimpse of gold fluttering gently in the breeze as Kaito slowed his pace and watched the sea of wild grass part between “waves” to see the resting “mermaid” amongst them on a patch of crabgrass and wild flowers with long blonde hair and pale skin and… and he realized he was idolizing another young girl with his thoughts. He originally assumed that the Mirror item that Kayaba gave them would cause a good chunk of the player base to be outed for just liking to look at a pair of boobs and butt while playing or even trying to work the heartstrings of lonely players (like himself) in game for cash and items. But as the green icon of a friendly player hovered over the golden haired waif, (and damnit, there he was again using such florid speech about a young girl again) it was plain to see she was a player character herself. A part of him told himself that he should just leave her alone, leave her to the rest of the game to not being accosted by some older stranger. But on the other hand, he been hearing stories recently of players being killed while taking a rest out in the field, either because they weren’t aware someone had come through and taken out the mobs in the area only to have them return maybe an hour to a half later. Or even worst, other players looking for an easy kill, grabbing their arm and accepting their duel request and dying in their sleep. He didn’t know if that last one was true or not but if it was a possibility… No, he had to do something but… well, what wouldn’t make him look too terribly like a creeper? He thought he saw a nearby boulder, about chair-height and decided that it was close enough to not be too much into her comfort zone. Walking over and taking a seat, he twiddled his thumbs for a moment as Kaito took in her sleeping form for a little bit, not sure how old she was but, once again, out of his age range more than likely. He finally cleared his throat a little loudly, in hope that would catch her attention before saying lightly, “Um… e-excuse me? Miss? I-uh… I don’t mean to interrupt your nap or anything but it’s kind of… kind of dangerous to do that outside the Safe Zone by yourself.” He hoped that would be enough to get her attention and not sound too off putting. Lord knows he’s failed enough times as it was.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ @tagged ✐ 000 ✉ Never tickle a sleeping dragon...unless it's Kitferge, because that's when he's affectionate. Kaito gets a nickname, and is thrown to the grass. Good luck. Kitferge Lv1

Kitferge was jolted out of his thoughts by a voice. His eyes slid to the man who spoke, and he straightened up slightly, laying on his side to face the man, head propped up on one of his hands. With a skim of his eyes, he found what he wanted easily, and blinked sleepily, pulling his bangs back from his sleep-mussed hair. "You're wary and tense, and you came from a direction not near the towns. I'm guessing you came from a quest, most likely with monsters that you recently killed. You seem rather polite and nervous...but it's more than mere shyness, isn't it? Most likely, you've had bad personal experiences with women or younger players. Still a strong sense of morals and ethics...though the wording on that last part sounds somewhat bitter or pretentious. Mulling over bad experiences after you meet someone new? Let me guess...if I weakened you emotionally right now, you would be completely vulnerable to an attack." He lay back down, curling up after that long spiel. "I'm not completely oblivious to my surroundings, darling." The endearment sounded more like a nickname, layered in a thick accent that seemed to only grow as he spoke, still groggy. His exhaustion made him softer, more honest, and he couldn't really bring himself to care right now, affectionate side growing. "You've probably been grinding for quite a bit. Honestly...you're going to lose your grip on reality." His tone was weary and somewhat teasing, warm as spiced honey. But he curled up tighter, still sleepy, and basked in the sun lightly as he spoke, opening one eye to peer at the man, his words light and airy as the wind that flowed by them. He closed his eyes again, not even sure why he was talking to another so freely....but it was rather relaxing, and Kitferge was sleepy, so he didn't much care...and besides, out of the ten thousand players that were in this game, how likely was it that he would meet this particular one again? He glanced at his player name, and his fingers closed around a patch of grass absently. Kaito, hmm? It suited this man. A soft, chuff-like exhale escaped his lips, not quite a laugh, but getting there. "There's no point in just sitting there. Either join or do nothing." Absently, he observed the man. "You're going to burn out if you just keep on doing whatever you're doing, so I suppose I'll be doing you a favor." Somehow, this nervous, shy man had caught his attention, and while that usually might have been a bad thing, Kitferge merely sighed today. It seemed his conscience had finally come back, and with it, his sense of duty...of a sort. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes lightly before turning to the other green player. Deeming himself close enough, he took one arm and pulled the material of the player's shirt to him, which caused him to fall off the boulder and onto the green grass. His good deed for the month done, the blonde merely rolled over and tried to resume his nap, caught in a half-daze, ignoring the player who was facing his back. Honestly...it was a good thing this one was interesting, or Kitferge would have pinned him down and threatened to slit his throat with his dagger. Kaito...hmpf. He snorted before closing his eyes again, the familiar feeling of his thoughts disappearing comforting him assuringly. "Don't kill me or do anything stupid." He said bluntly, before ignoring the other man completely.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kaito]

"I'm no hero. I can't save my own life, let alone another. I was never a "Sapphire Samurai." Just a ronin fighting for ideals I can only hope to aspire to." ☒ Kitferge ✐ 1835 ✉ Hopefully a little small talk will entertain the dragon. And when I mean "small talk", I mean his life story. Kaito Lv3

Kaito had chided himself for constantly idolizing beautiful young girls, knowing he was seeing something that wasn’t there and dehumanizing them in the process. It was something he hated to do but unconsciously did it regardless. Looking down at the young blonde beauty as she stirred awake, he had his lips pursed as he still had that “mermaid” image in his head, seeing those blue eyes slowly open to look him straight on. But as she spoke, suddenly reading his personality like a book, his black eyes widened as he realized maybe thinking of her as more than just human might be appropriate this time. Even in her just awoken state, she was eloquent, exacting and her words cut like a knife to the point that left his mouth agape and speechless, especially as she gently suggested that he could break him with just her words. “Is… is that just an observation? Or a threat…?” He finally asked, pursing his lips as he tried to moisten his throat, and not exactly expecting a reply either. “You’ve probably been grinding for quite a bit. Honestly… you’re going to lose your grip on reality.”     Maybe she was already right as the girl’s voice was soft and caressed the ear but had such an otherworldliness to it as he couldn’t pin down what it was. She curled in the grass more like a wild cat, too tired to chase after the prey that had wandered too close to her bedding. His mind raced as he pondered that maybe this blonde beauty was some child genius or a prodigy and that the girl was on more even grounds with him than Kaito realized. Or in this case, able to look down on him with how clearly she poked into his psyche. “I’m… I-I’m wondering that right now…” he mumbled, fingers fidgeting as his face seemed to glow a little at the idea of joining her down in the grass and bit his lip, “I-I-I don’t think that’s a good idea! A-A guy like me shouldn’t be seen laying with a-AAH!”     The “mermaid” had caught him as he was sitting up to leave, feeling like he was risking making another stupid reaction or misjudge her intentions as he thought she suggesting something… provocative. But what he failed to remember from those myths about mermaids is that while their beauty was legendary, they were known to drag men to their deaths and drown them. As she herself in a way did as she took hold of him with her small but surprisingly firm grip on his padded shirt sleeve, Kaito yelping as he tumbled next to her, only less than a foot from her side. His breath caught in his throat as she made a blunt but understandable demand to not do anything stupid, nodding before breathing out, “U-Understood…” The older man sighed as the soft earth underneath him was warm from the sun that cross not above them but the side to reach into their floor in Aincrad. There was momentary feeling of restlessness as he felt like he was wasting his time here, even with a cute and mysterious girl by his side before his mind wandered, needing to fill the void of silence even as the breeze stirred the long grass shielding their bodies.     “… Was the sky always this blue? Or was I always too focused on some mission to notice it?” He mumbled as the fluffiest of clouds and the most cerulean of blue filled his black irises, closing his eyes as he whispered, “What have I been doing for the past few months? It just feels like a blur of conflict between slivers of happiness and ultimate failure…” He still fidgeted with his fingers but not nearly as much as the warmth of the day finally seemed to be catching up with his feeling of being tired, lulling Kaito into his thoughts. If she could read him so well, a complete and utter stranger… was she really that much of a stranger? They might not have known a thing about each other but… part of him needed someone, anyone to hear him. She wasn’t his psychiatrist and she probably didn’t ask for it but… he needed to say something.     “I think I’ve already burned out the moment Kayaba locked us in this digital prison, I’ve just been pushing to find some sort of purpose ever since. Gamers like me have a tendency to not take care of ourselves that way, we try and pretend “we got this” even as the wheels come off. Even as everything is spinning out of control… I’ve never had much control of my life. You know, I was supposed to be making games like this. Well, no, not games like Sword Art Online, the analog stuff for consoles and the PC market. I went to school, I kept good grades, spurred a social life and probably sleep at times… then Argus plops down the Nerve Gear into the market out of nowhere and the fabric of the industry is jettisoned. Companies scrambled to try and find the tech that Kayaba pulled out of nowhere, others pushing VR helmets and gloves like it was the 90s all over again but it just didn’t compare to… this!” He held his hands in front of his face, HIS hands, his fingerprints and creases and all as he continued, “I watched as my possible employers either dropped out of the industry or go bankrupt trying to create a competitor and fail far from their goal. And that I spent five years of my life and several hundred thousand yen in tuition for a piece of paper for a job that doesn’t exist anymore.” Kaito’s face clenched tight for a moment before continuing and sighing out, “And the kicker being my parents not understanding that when they got me the thing that’s ruined me for my birthday. I just… I just gave up. I strapped the damn thing on and decided to live in my dormroom for a few months because reality was too painful to think about. And for a while, it was… nice. I met a few players and we hit it off pretty quickly. We… heh, we called ourselves the “Aincrad Rangers” and wandered the land, jumping into fights alongside players and striking team poses. It was cute, I guess. I never really thought that I was maybe partnering with a group of kids the entire time but I had my suspicions. But we gave into the roleplay, the fantasy of being heroes because… damnit, don’t we all wanna be heroes? So I figured when we teased or complimented or flirted, I just assumed it was between “Kaito” and the Rangers, not my actual self. I didn’t see the signs until Day One of SAO when one of the girls wanted to go grinding alone from the group with me. She’d changed her avatar into something more… traditionally feminine than she was used to playing as. And her questions were more… personal. That’s when I got it. And I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, didn’t want her first foray into romance be met with rejection so… I played along and I liked it. I liked feeling loved, even if the girl was maybe too young for me. But…”     The dark haired man clenched his wrist tight, his vision looking over towards hazy shadow that was the main pillar to Floor 2, the sun sliced in half as “noon” occurred, the edge of the top of the sky ceiling around the edges as the day for a moment dimmed a little. “Kayaba changed the rules on us, changed how the game was played… the cruel bastard. I’m serious when I said to be careful out here, he had added a rare version of the boar enemy with a new status effect and gouged her before I could even react. The game had just begun and we hadn’t really stocked up on healing items so… we decided to just meet back in town after she respawn. But you know what happened soon after. When we got teleported, most of the rangers were close by and… I got to see first-hand just how young they were compared to me. I misjudged by… quite a bit. And then when the rules were spoken out of the game and… I had to watch as her brother stare me down with so much hate in his eyes. Said I could have done more, that I should have been a better player because of my age and skill, that I was…”     Kaito needed a moment to catch his breath as he was beginning to quiver, looking over at his side at the girl facing away from him, his eyes following down her slender arms and shoulders and over the curve of her hip and forced himself to look away as he revealed, “That I was someone who shouldn’t be around kids alone. It’s why I didn’t know if I should… should have even said anything to you in the first place. Because he swore if he ever saw me again or heard I was around someone… someone like you, he’d kill me. … I know that it was an accident, that there was nothing I could have foreseen that this would have happened. But I was the one with the five years of college-level game design under his belt, almost 20 years of straight gaming experience. The reality is… I sat by and watched a young girl die. And I’ll have to carry that for the rest of my life.”     He had no idea how such talk was putting him in jeopardy around this blonde haired “girl” as he sounded so lost and hopeless, reaching up as he found himself reaching out for the sun, both to cover his eyes and to “grasp it” before taking a deep breath and adding with a little more energy, “But…. But. If I just accepted how terrible my life is now, if I just gave up and walked into the smallest, most secluded dive bar in all of the Town of Beginnings for the rest of the game, I’d be doing a disservice to Lilly. If I have the power, even just a little bit, to help someone, I need to do it. I just… I still don’t know what that is yet. I’m looking for that something, that someone maybe, to fight for. I just have to find my path, even if so far every door I’ve tried has been slammed shut.”     Kaito relaxed back with another sigh as the grass and flowers mingled into his senses, feeling like a great pressure was lifted off his chest, at least a little bit as a gentle smile crossed his face. He felt a tinge of… serenity as he apologized, “Sorry for going on and on like that. I just… I just thought you might hear out a lonely man is all.”

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ Kaito ✐ 000 ✉ It shall. Congrats. You successfully made him bare his soul. Now...where to go next? It's getting deep, but Kitferge won't say anything more~ (Lucky Kaito, you actually get nice Kitferge, because you remind him of himself! ) Kitferge Lv1

Kitferge blinked quietly, feeling the need to reassure this man, and while it was certainly odd, it stemmed from his exhaustion and current peaceful mood. Misery may have loved company, but so did tranquility. His eyes closed and opened momentarily, only widening and stopping at his question about the sky. “It’s not always blue. It can be green or silver or pink streaked with gold. You just have to be careful, sometimes,” He told him softly, much more softly than he would have otherwise with a different question. “Because the sky can remind you of your losses. It can play your heart and soul like a string, and you will ache and ache and ache until you finally turn away, because what you see might just make you beg for death...since there’s nothing left of you anymore.” When he began speaking about his life, Kitferge rolled to face him. He had accepted that he probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep any more, so the blonde merely let out a small huff and listened to him speak. His voice, nervous as he seemed, smoothed out as he spoke, as did his speech pattern. How normal was it to do so? Extraordinarily. But....this man did remind him of Kathleen, so he supposed he could listen. Tilting his head, the player focused on the other’s words, not interrupting yet, just observing him silently, taking in the information. So...he had wanted to be in the gaming industry. How...fitting. And when his warning came, Kitferge took that with extra caution, but it didn’t show. Instead, he only listened to the man continue. And then, when he finished, the blonde gave a small cough, clearing his voice. “That is the absolute most ridiculous goal I’ve ever heard,” He said bluntly, his voice absolutely calm and stoic. “But...it suits you, I suppose. But if it were me...don’t fight for another. Did you take a knife and kill her? Your sword, is it run through with streaks of her blood? If not...then why? Why would you blame yourself? The hell of it is...you’re just a player. You act as if you’re any more, but...you’re not. It’s something you admitted. And if you fight for someone else…” He paused and turned, blue eyes fluttering shut before locking onto Kaito, continuing on ruthlessly. “You’re going to forget them, if you really cared. You’re going to forget their favorite flavor of jam, the way that they smile when they’re trying to be polite and stifling giggles, the way that they made you feel, because it’s going to just be a word. Happiness, joy, sadness, emptiness...they’re all words. They’re not emotion, not that specific emotion that you felt around them, because there are different types of happiness and you might as well admit it. And if you fight for them, how is it going to reach them? If they care about you like you care about them...would you want Lilly to do the same for you?” “You’re going to die,” Kitferge finished, not done with his spiel. “Not like Lilly. For Lilly, for a thing she probably never wanted, all over again. You’re going to disappear on the inside for a cause you believe in, but do you really? You think you need to, you have this sense of duty, but where’s the sense of duty for yourself?” His voice was calm and soft, but he tried to take everything in that he just learned and work with it. This man...he vaguely reminded Kitferge of himself before he became himself, if that made any sense. He breathed out deeply, his tone firm as he finished up. “Be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and stars; you have a right to be here,” Kitferge told him, quoting Max Ehrmanm, then moving onto Tolkien and Ralph Emerson. “I do not believe this darkness will endure. Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.” His eyes slipped shut, and he let out a long exhale, done with his words. You remind me of Kathleen, he wanted to say desperately, his feelings tinged with a childishness he wasn’t sure he still had, and remind me of Avke. Would you turn out the same way as they did? Gone? But what was wrong with him today? He could have cut down the man, reduced him to a shriveling mess while he watched in grosteque delight, play him like a puppet underneath his strings...but he didn’t. If there was any light in me, he thought slowly, letting each word die out in a manner like smoke in air, curling around his mind, would you-could you-should you-have sparked it? His curious gaze returned to the man, but he found nothing of interest. I should have been a puppeteer...but it seems there is one puppet I cannot play. He scoffed a little. How poetic. But really, it doesn’t concern him anymore, so Kitferge decides to divulge a little bit of himself in the subtlest ways he knows how, and so he does. Flights of fancy are only there to be filled, after all. But he doesn’t talk to the man. Why should he? He’s spoken his piece for now, and the man doesn’t seem suicidal, so now...well, it’s not in his interest. Unless the man tries talking again. Should he talk to the air? It’s a childish question, one that a five year old child might ask, but he’s never had that luxury, so he gets it now, Kitferge supposes, his lips wringing into a wry smirk. But he won’t, or he will. But...he knows he’ll talk to this one, won’t he? But what are the chances of one out of ten thousand players remembering what he says? “Green glass,” He murmurs, almost silent, except it seems so loud, so clear amongst the empty air and vast, never ending sky, that it makes him flinch. Silence is something he is too used to, it seems. “It curves around my mother’s palm, bubbling gold, never ending. The scent fills the air, permeating it, driving me into a state of mild intoxication. Is this poison, I wonder, dazed, leaving my house? There's no other word for it, is there? She's not silent, and broken, poisoned words fill the air. I'm gone. It's silent. It's not.” There’s a beat of silence, and Kitferge sighs, feeling a little more empty. Is it fair to give your soul after someone gives you theirs? Not all of it. “That’s my childhood. It doesn’t quite compare to yours, I’m afraid.” Kitferge seperates them, sitting up a little, his voice disappearing with the wind. The sky’s darkening, he notes absently, sending a preoccupied glance over his companion before looking up again. The sky looks like a soft lilac color, and he pauses before curling up again.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kaito]

"I'm no hero. I can't save my own life, let alone another. I was never a "Sapphire Samurai." Just a ronin fighting for ideals I can only hope to aspire to." ☒ Kitferge ✐ 1181 ✉ I suppose he'll try petting the dragon now. Or at least we'll see how far these two broken birds will go with this facsimile of a relationship. Kaito Lv3

The noon sky drew the world a little darker, always momentarily like this as the sun reached its zenith and the edges of the “ceiling” almost cut off the sun’s rays. It was as if the heavenly figures above were forcing, aiding in the feeling of intensity between their conversation that darkened around them like an overcast day. It made Kaito unconsciously turn towards her and even edge a little closer as if to gain warmth from the little blonde girl as he spoke to her, taking in those beautiful blue eyes when he wasn’t finding his vision at the grass between her fingers or the stream of gold that fell from her shoulders to the ground and along his arm. When she spoke he felt like the ghost of lost moments was speaking to him, so full of wisdom and pain and hurt… and yet hope. He didn’t want to interrupt her either but he could only slip in a nugget of his own past along with hers… along with this… Kit-fir-gee? Kit-fayr-gay? Kit… If he would be her darling, she’d be Kit, Kaito decided. “That is the absolute most ridiculous goal I’ve ever heard,” He said bluntly, his voice absolutely calm and stoic. “But...it suits you, I suppose.”     “T-Thanks…?” He replied back, eyebrow arched at such a queer way of putting it as he listened to her explain just how she felt about his unrealistic objective and in a roundabout way wonder why he could possibly believe he was at fault. Kaito’s mind could never put her very purposeful comparisons together as being from personal experience as he glanced down at the grip of his sword between them. True, he didn’t cut Lilly down but he might as well have been standing over her body while she was bleeding out and did nothing. That her life was snuffed out from his negligence and now all he had were her memories to remember her by. And whether or not any of them were really like the TigerLilly that was of the real, physical world. “You’re going to forget them, if you really cared. You’re going to forget their favorite flavor of jam, the way that they smile when they’re trying to be polite and stifling giggles…”     “… The little twirl she does to see how far her new scarf arms will fly out, the little giggle-snort between her laughter, the way she bent at the knees to make her seem smaller when she really, really wants something.” Kaito said with a sniff, dark eyes down cast with a soft, mournful smile as he explained how he remembered her. How could he forget these things? How could forgetting these little things be good in the long run for him? It would be like pretending she never existed in the first place. If he let her go, let her history fall by the wayside, then everything Haruto accused him of would have to be real, have to be the case. “You’re going to die,” Kitferge finished, not done with his spiel. “Not like Lilly. For Lilly, for a thing she probably never wanted, all over again. You’re going to disappear on the inside for a cause you believe in, but do you really? You think you need to, you have this sense of duty, but where’s the sense of duty for yourself?”     For a moment, he rolled onto his back, eyes to the sky as the darkened day filled his vision, breath shallow as he pondered with her, and yet also gently revoking her wisdom too. “You’re right. Death comes for all of us, Memento Mori and all that. But… not many of us have the chance to truly live. To find a purpose that drives them forward and gives them clarity. To have a… a dream to follow that can only be bigger than oneself.” He mused as he let her continue. She used the words of philosophers and scholars that he could just barely recognize, finding it funny that the college educated man was being educated by the young girl. And while he was a man of figures and numbers and calculations, Kaito did have one piece of culture that he remembered, that he hoped would explain himself as the sun moved its way back down, ultimately bringing its light back to the world as he spoke:     “To dream an impossible dream. To fight the unbeatable foe. To bear with… unbearable sorrow and to run where the brave dare not go. To right the unrightable wrong. To… to love pure and… chaste from afar. To try when your arms are too weary, to reach the unreachable star. This is my quest, to follow that star. No matter how hopeless, no matter how far.” He breathed, slowing in some places but letting his voice grow stronger in places as he finally smiled strongly, turning back to her as the sun’s warmth returned to the world as strong as it could, as if he brought it back with his words before quoting, “Man of La Mancha. I don’t know many musicals, I’m more of an anime and gaming guy but I really liked that one.”     As he turned to look her back in the eye, it did feel like some barrier was slowly dissipating between them, or at least he hoped as Kaito tried to read those ghostly blue eyes of hers, being this close he could see the grains of gold behind those long eyelashes. His heart still was beating a little faster by her side than it should have as while this “Don Quixote” might have talked about “pure love”, it didn’t look like he was capable of it being “chaste from afar.” As they spoke, the older man’s fingers had found her long silken hair, ever so gently rubbing them between thumb and forefinger, sometimes even combing through it as his tongue moistened his lips. Kaito seemed like the hopeless kind of man who would believe in love at first sight but… this wasn’t it. This was a kind of desperation that came from a lack of human interaction maybe, lack of human contact that just touching her hair seemed to feel like something taboo that he badly needed. Did he want to touch Kit? Probably. Inappropriately? Absolutely not.     As Kit spoke of her own childhood, he genuinely seemed to listen with pity in his eyes. While he might not have had the best life between people his own age, either due to always being “the new student” or later in high school as “The foreigner that wasn’t foreign enough”, home was always a safe haven for him, a place where he could be happy. His mind conjured up visions of a little girl, sitting with worn books of literature with the screams from the other room of drunken diatribes and vicious words said at the lack of inhibition. It hurt to hear, even if it was close to his own story, just from outside influences inward. “No… no it doesn’t. I’m so sorry, no one deserves a home life like that… Kit.” He whispered back, even as she turned away, looking at the back of her head as he tested out that name with the little teen, “A home should be a safe haven, a place to return to when the darkness of the world feels too much, too big. No one should be without that.” His free hand clenched as he felt a need to comfort, to hold her close. He shouldn’t, he mustn’t. What would he do if he did? How far would he try to go? The touch of her hair was all he could have, all that he would allow himself.     She was drowning him and he was swimming down with her.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ Kaito ✐ 000 ✉ Yay. Music comes in. It's getting dark. And this dragon...well, he'll indulge for a little more, why shouldn't he? Kitferge Lv1

Kitferge curls up more tightly. After his talk about himself, there is a bit of wariness that still lingers, a sort of fear that comes with his past, but not really. He can still trace the faintest amounts of cigarette smoke and alcohol if he tries, which are brought upon by his memories. If he strains his ears, he can hear his mother’s intoxicated laughter, low and earthy, as she tries to bring in one of her clients. He would leave, then, and head to the park, his violin or cello or contrabass on him. He would sit down in the grass and play until his fingers ached and Kathleen would work late in the park as a library assistant, so she would come and sit by him and take his instruments away or Aaron would come from his tutoring and silently pull him into a hug that he didn’t know what to do with. His mind flickers in caution. He knows that he shouldn’t be thinking about Kathleen or Aaron. It’s a sort of riskiness that comes with his thoughts, the understanding that he won’t be able to control himself, won’t be able to be that ice-cold person that he needs to be to survive with what he’s done and will do. He’s not a good person, he knows, and he accepts it, loves that dark, twisted part of him because who else will? And when he thinks that he’s being a good person, that the light inside of him is finally beginning to shine, it feels wrong, like oil coating his insides, because would a good person kill Kathleen? It’s not like Kaito’s situation, because while he feels guilt and sorrow, he doesn’t feel enough of it. It’s muted. Because what lies beneath those mournful emotions was jubilation. Euphoria. He killed his best friend and he liked it, loved it, enjoyed it somehow. And if that isn’t twisted, he doesn’t know what is. Kitferge’s accepted he likes killing people, to hurt people, and so relishes that fact, unlike Kaito. And what is with this man that makes him compare himself to him? His gaze turns to the older player, eyes narrowing. His glance is cool, reserved, more icy now. Behind it, there is a predator’s calm, anger and ire bubbling up to the surface. He doesn’t trust himself around this player, and Kitferge does not like complications. Two. He’ll give this man two strikes, and if he fails, then it’s goodbye to him. His grip closes around his dagger, but it’s unnoticable, really. The blonde closes his eyes again, and listens. There’s the empty whistling of grass, bright green and wrinkled, paired with the meaningless chatter of birds. He quite likes birds. The warm air has become cooler, and he likes it that way, but this is not the best place to stay during the dark. Kitferge makes a note of remembering to leave, and then focuses his attention on Kaito. There’s a moment of silence when the level one player sizes him up, and then his eyes narrow the tiniest bit, partly to shade his eyes from the light, but mostly because he’s found it. He’s found this weakness, ready to be exploited, and he won’t feel bad about using it, if everything goes well. And then the blonde settles down again, eyes slipping shut. He’s gone over it countless times in his head, though. An emotional approach, and then there would be no need for physical resistance. But...this was odd, wasn’t it? He felt the need to hurt, to damage, to manipulate...but there was hesitance, a gentleness that he wasn’t sure of. It was like he was with his mother again, waiting and wanting so desperately for her love and knowing that it would never come and hating her for it. When he spoke, Kitferge listens listlessly, his eyes closed and mind blank. Should he care? Should he not care? He feels a hand in his hair and stiffens immediately. This was too alike to the day when Sword Art Online was revealed to be a game of killers. He could almost see the blue-purple sky, the orange butterfly that caught Kathleen’s attention, the way he called her little bird in Arabic to appease her, the time that he told her the story of the sky. Alttayir alssaghir, he thinks dryly. But this man...he’s different and he’s so familiar, and so Kitferge decides to crumple. One wrong thing, just one slip, and he’ll die, won’t he? And it won’t be a pity and it won’t be an accomplishment because this man scares him to the core because he feels, for once, and it’s not like the weak feelings that barely exist when he talked to that one girl, Phyre, who reminded him of Kathleen and the one that he wanted to hurt, for some reason, or Aura, who looked exactly like the girl but didn’t at the same time. This is different. It’s more. He hates it, and he wants to kill this man, and he wants to save him, so what should he do? What will he do? Is there-is there wrong or right anymore? Kitferge is just so lost, now, and- And- And what? “The darkness of the world…That’s funny. It’s so, so funny, because it’s not. How can you hide from the darkness in the world when it exists within yourself and exists everywhere? I wish I could hide. Maybe that's my dream.” A light chuckle makes his shoulders shake, and he pulls his head away, sitting up and determined to not, not look at this man. “You can have your idealistic, fantastically impossible dreams, and I can have mine, can’t I?” “This doesn’t make sense,” He finally whispers, blinking, unseeing at the sky. “I’m not sure what I’m saying makes sense because they’re abstract and distant but they connect somehow. Like music notes. This...this all is pretty twisted, isn’t it? I...kind of like it, actually. Because this is dark. This is twisted. And so I can be just as dark and twisted and everyone won’t mind, will they? This world is cold, and it doesn’t care. I can deal with that. If it’s that cold and unfeeling and cruel...I can mouth off all I want. I can be stubborn and cruel and hateful and people will resent me, but they won’t care.” “I wonder,” The blonde says, quietly intense, finally turning to look at him, whispers in his head stilling, curious, wondering, infinite. “Out of the ten thousand people I could have bared my soul to, why did I choose you? I could exploit you. I could use all the things I know and utterly tear you down, watching you still and ache until there’s nothing left but an empty shell, one that doesn’t even have the will to live or die. I could do that, couldn’t I? So why aren’t I? I could do that and enjoy it. I could watch you suffer and smile. But I’m not. I wonder why.” He stands, suddenly, brushing off his clothes. The blonde doesn’t much care for this topic, anymore, or it at least seems like it, and he runs a hand through his hair. His blue eyes regard Kaito for a minute. Then he simply flicks his hair over his shoulder and turns away. There’s a challenge hidden in him, somewhere, or a question, depending on how the man will take it. He’s heading towards Horunka, for one, and it’s a safe zone, obviously. He’s not going to hurt Kaito...at least not physically. Does Kaito pity him? Perhaps he does. It’s funny, though. Kitferge doesn’t need his pity. He never has. He never will. Instead, he pities Kaito, if just a bit. He turns into the central clearing of Horunka, and there’s a group of NPCs and players alike mingling, talking over music. He snorts when he hears popular songs be thrown around, pop and country and rock, but no instrumental or classical. A twinge of annoyance seeps into his carefully stoic demeanor, but then he merely heads towards an NPC, and asks for his violin. There’s a brief moment of silence as his request processes, and then the man smiles toothily and hands the instrument over. Kitferge gives a small, polite smile. There’s no telling the emotional capacities of NPCs. There’s a beat of silence before Kitferge selects the piece he wants to play and it’s Dvorák: Lento-Poco adagio from Piano Trio, B. 166, op. 90, "Dumky", and there’s a moment that he takes to tell the cellist and pianist, who are obvious against the simple setting of Horunka. There’s a title telling him that they’re travelling musicians, but he takes that strangely. Apparently, in Sword Art Online, there’s no trouble in transporting a grand piano. He disregards that, though, and fits the violin delicately in the corner of his neck. It’s impeccably tuned, a feature of SAO, no doubt, but that’s unimportant right now. He has an instrument that he enjoys playing in his hands. It’s okay for now. It’s okay. His earlier calm is restored, and he likes this, likes this soothing feeling that appears in him. His fingers relax minutely, and he begins to play.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kaito]

"I'm no hero. I can't save my own life, let alone another. I was never a "Sapphire Samurai." Just a ronin fighting for ideals I can only hope to aspire to." ☒ Kitferge ✐ 1696 ✉ No witticisms today. I was writing this for a few hours between distractions and a medicated fog so I hope this comes out at least a little legible. Kaito Lv3

Kaito’s lack of understanding who exactly he was talking to was slowly beginning to dawn on him after already receiving “strike one.” He couldn’t see that he had already pushed a limit he hadn’t recognize until a little kink in her perfect hair lightly tugged to his gentle brushing through her golden threads caused her to flinch and clench her body tight. Kaito only now could see with dark eyes her body language as he let those last few strands drip from his hand, knowing he must have messed up again. He went instead to play with his fingers when Kit turned to him and… for a second there he thought he was looking into the eyes of a predator, sizing him up for how quickly she should strike but almost as quickly as it came, it disappeared again. Maybe that connection he thought they had, that Kaito thought he felt, wasn’t as strong as it appeared to be. Or maybe he just didn’t realize who he was talking with.     That’s certainly how he felt as he listened to her speak, wondering if it was more than just the alcoholism in the family but something further than that. Every word she said began to feel like it had a double entendre to it, maybe because of how open he had been. Maybe in a way, Kaito was the light that was shining into her dark world but she could only see it like an angler fish’s lure, to trap her and rip her apart with the possibility of hope. And yet in the same vein, as she continued to speak, half to herself and the other half to him, those black eyes seemed to grow larger as she spoke so casually about breaking him and crush him with her words and throw his axiom (was it his axiom?) back into his face with such cold and calculated words made the feeling of being not the smartest person in that field even greater. His mermaid was turning into a vampire in front of his eyes, looking at him with a vicious hunger that he couldn’t pin-point yet what would lead to.     And yet his lips pulled into a tight clamp, narrowing back as she echoed her own hesitance on doing so. There WAS a reason she spoke these things to, and while she claimed to have bared her soul, there was something… missing. Something that made her believe she was the monster she claimed to be. Her words were meant to scare him, to threaten him but Kaito sat up along with her, glancing at Kit from the side as if to dare her. There’s something missing in your life. You can wallow in darkness, you can give others the darkness of the world but someone sees things differently, lets the dream of light to guide him. I might bend, I might crack… but I refuse to break. That’s why you’re hesitating. That’s what shown on his face, even if he couldn’t put it into words, as he sat up along with her… and smirked her way, even after her harsh words.     Kaito let her make the first steps back to town, sitting up and dusting of his leather armor and padded trousers. He unconsciously looked for grass stains even though they’d never show in this world. Watching her glance back at him, hair bellowing in the wind as if to silently ask him to follow. “Maybe… at the very least, I can help the silence from getting too unbearable?” He joked softly, before walking to catch up with her. Perhaps he was making a mistake, chasing after this vampire, this mermaid, this mythical creature but he chose to follow, wherever that might lead him. Horunka was much smaller than the more Italian villas and apartments of Tolbana, more a village in styling. It could be why some so-called danger could be confronting it, without the traditional protection that the other two towns had. Regardless, the players here were slowly making it their own as their private music playlists were being given off to NPC bards, troubadours and anyone with an instrument in their hands. This was a world of fantasy and monsters and swords but as he contemplating getting some of the local produce for a light snack for them, hearing music through a lute or fiddle or hand accordion that could have been on the radio made smirk a bit. It reminded him a bit of that group 2Cellos that became so popular around his high school days online as the attempt at heavy metal over traditional string instruments seemed hilarious to him.     So it would come to a bit of a surprise as Kit walked towards the NPCs and quietly asked for his violin and bow and seemingly whispering to the rest of the small band to play something of hers it would seem. Along with playing it herself. Kaito blinked with surprise that the young girl was apparently a musician before taking a place near the back away from the audience, leaning an arm against a wooden stall’s rod as the time they had in the field made his eyes a little droopy. But as she began to play, his mind was focused as he felt the music in his heart, in his mind. It told a story that he chose to see as he closed his eyes and nodded in time…     He wakes up, in an unknown yet familiar bed, his limbs small and clothes childlike as a spring time light shines through an open window. Across town, another child awakes, the screams of the evening blissfully dead as she sees the sun draping across her little violin and books. The two are walking down cobblestone roads, uncertain of time or place as Kaito runs towards the playground, the girl’s long dress flickering as she walks towards him. The boy’s eyes lock onto her as he slows his pace as Kit stands before… no, not Kit. It’s TigerLilly. Or Elpharae. Or Lucia or the myriad of young girls he had met in his life as their faces seemed to meld and shift within his sight. He smiles at her as it brings a look of surprise and as he takes her hand, she smiles back beautifully. Because she is both none of them and yet all of them, youthful beauty and childlike wonder and innocent in heart. But the morning sun is broken by something dark hovering high overhead, black wings spread open to block its light as a massive creature roars above. It is hate, greed, despair, the many vices of the world wrapped into a multiheaded dragon. The young girl is scared, and rightfully so. So Kaito holds her close, telling her he’ll protect her from these things, the malice of the world as hard as he can. And her smile returns.     Now he flies through the grass with a long stick in hand, as the monsters and shadows and evil of the world is vanquished with each mighty blow. At least, in his mind as he shows off for the young girl and his martial prowess against imaginary creatures. She giggles at his attempts while sitting on a fence leading into town and claps as he swings once more. But the darkness of the day returns as he glances up to check the sun for the horrible dragon but its size is too immense as Kaito sees in horror the little girl caught in its claws. It screams for him to save her, to come to her aid and he runs with all his might, throwing himself into the air even as she flown too high for him to ever catch up. He runs until his legs give out, his lungs scream for air and collapses as he realizes he has failed his mission, his “Dulcinea” taken from his hands. He doesn’t know what to do, where to go, how to right this wrong.     But as he ponders, a light envelopes his stick, rising into the air, glowing with ephemeral light as it calls to him. The light slowly slips away faintly to reveal the stick was now a sword… no, a spear. It’s blade like a cross, a holy symbol that beckons him to become. He takes hold of his weapon and its light surrounds him and forms him as a set of dō-maru armor adorns his body, seeing himself no longer a boy the man he saw himself today. Realizing his mission was to get her back, no matter the cost. He runs across fields, over mountains, through streams, his armor and weapon and righteous cause pushing him past limits that once left him without breath before. He found the signs of nesting grounds and cattle carcasses as he pushed further until a dark, dead volcano came into view, the creature’s maw blowing embers and smoke from the top as if it were still active. Kaito would crawl softly over the edge, climbing down as it slumbered, making his way to the bottom where its darkness was most foul. And in a momentary flash and a war cry, he lunges at the creature and letting his spear find its way into its heart, slicing open its chest… only to find she is there. The little girl’s eyes open with her slender arms and torso clad in black as a dark smirk comes over her face. She was gone the moment he had lost her.     The sound of applause arose him out of his dream sequence, letting out a deep breath as he looked up at Kit on stage as he… well, hoped that was just his mind playing tricks on him as he wondered why he went there near the end. But he added into the audience’s clapping as he walked up along the stage to her. “That was… that was amazing! It was gentle yet gripping and… a-and awful but inspiring all at the same time.” He exclaimed as Kaito attempted his best at critiquing a type of music he wasn’t very well versed in. But he hoped she’d understand his lack of words for praise.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ Kaito ✐ 000 ✉ More mythological creatures and  mentions of murder? ^-^'' By the way, the setting changes...again. Mwahaha. Kitferge Lv1

Kitferge watched the man as he played. It's funny, really, how this music seems to affect these people. They call him a prodigy. He doesn't think they could be any more stupid. He's not a prodigy. He listens to the beat of their hearts and watches them smile until he figures out what makes them tick. He uses the beat of their hearts, of their souls, of their minds as a metronome. How else should he play? Because is music truly about expressing yourself? Kitferge hates people who say it is, truly, truly despises them. He can try to put his feelings in, but it's more than just these notes that he loves. He tries, and to pour emotion in, he slows down, and the melody is broken, and everything is terrible. It's ugly and disfigured and like him, no matter how he tries to pretend it's otherwise. So he pretends and he pretends well. He plays prettily and listens to others and plays the way they want to hear the melody. And if he can't listen to the beat of their hearts? Easy. He can just tilt his head and play and keep his eyes open and watch them as he plays. He can try a billion different methods until he finds one that sticks with these others. He can play someone like a string. A puppet master to the fullest. He's a strange, elfin creature that hypnotizes others until they want to lose themselves with his music. A siren. Perhaps that's what he is. Kitferge could honestly care less. He can play tales of heroism, Kitferge muses, laughing at the thought, his giggles manic but silent as he plays, easily stifled by a demure smile on his face, as if he's enjoying spearing his soul. Didn't you know? He wants to ask the players who are enjoying this, leaning on each other and whispering as they drink ale. His eyes zero in on the bottles. Ale. He hates alcohol, and the smile on his face becomes fixed, almost, and he wants to shatter that man's wrist. He wants to slowly watch his choke as Kitferge strangles him, and watch as his breath slowly leaves him gasping for air, throat purpling with bruises. His lips curl into a snarl. Maybe he's a empousai, instead, a beautiful monster created by Hecate to feed on other men's blood, with one bronze leg and the other of a donkey, revealed in their true glory when the men have fallen under their spell. Beautiful, yet terrifying. But fierce. Kitferge is far from fierce, he knows, and there's no refuting that fact. Not anymore. But he's always had a fondness for broken things. It's much more likely that he doesn't possess any magic of his own. Kitferge knows what he is. He always has. Most likely, he's a butterfly, like the one him and Kathleen chased. Delicate. Small. Fast. Beautiful. And so easily broken. Fragile. The blond imagined himself sitting with the butterfly, and then ripping off its wing. Broken. Just like him. That's the kind of beauty he can sympathize with, can love because no one else will. He can imagine, Kitferge thinks wildly, his song still pleasant and controlled as ever, madness tinting the edges of his vision. he doesn't mind, loves it really, welcomes this intoxicating darkness that wraps him in dark coils and whispers poison in his ears. He can imagine what no one else does because they have courage and he doesn't. That's what they have and he doesn't. That's why he depends on his imagination so much. He played on. No point in stopping. By now, people gave began to gather, many with alcohol. Strangling is a no with so many. He began to think of arson, before Kitferge caught himself reeled himself in. Patience. There is time enough to let these people kill themselves, if he bides his time. A puppet master with the wings of a butterfly. As delicate as the strings he toys with. A siren. A empousai. There is too much and too little he sees himself as. Am I still your little bird, Kathleen, as you are mine? I'm afraid I have torn of your wing, though, and you lie bleeding as I pick your corpse apart. He realizes he is at the end. A small, bitter grin grows on his face. There is no crescendo in his song, merely a building, mounting tension that promises to drive himself insane eventually. Is he insane? He wonders, exhilarated. He hopes so and he hopes not. There's still a little, lost boy in him, one that speaks the Arabic that he refuses to touch now and one that believes in friendship. In love. In the things he knows now do not exist. He thinks of Kaito, thinks of the man that he spoke to. Does Kaito believe in love, in friendship, in companionship and in justice? No doubt he does. He is that kind of man that everyone understands and knows. Kitferge is not that kind of boy. He never has been, and he never will be. There's that understanding that he hates, the pity that builds to become false kindness in his eyes. Kitferge hates this man. Kitferge wants to save him from something that he himself does not know. The song begins to close, something that Kitferge notes absently, and that little, tiny thought pushes to the top of his mind like a bubble in a calm sea. Tiny, but it bursts. Have I been playing for that long? He wants to ask to no one in particular. Probably. A small smile grows on his face, eerily peaceful. I wish it didn't have to end. I wasn't paying attention to Kaito, not really. A strange, odd thought occurs to him. It disturbs him too much to be discounted as a thought of a fool, which he is. Kitferge allows himself to indulge in maybes just this once as the song ends, trying to pry himself away from that thought. This isn't the song he started to play. This is something else entirely, an original composition out of his many. The players around him whisper about him admiringly, but he ignores them, their smiles, their grins. They think this is a happy song? Let them. He thinks he'll name this song,"Shards of Green". It's a pretty enough name and vague enough that no one will understand. He remembers the feeling of cold glass shattering on his leg, cutting him deep and refusing to scream. That's alright if no one but Kaito knows. Kaito is a fool, anyways, a fool that he carelessly cares about. Maybe Kathleen forgives me. Maybe she still cares. Maybe I don't have to be this person. Maybe my mother actually loves me. Maybe she wants to truly care for her child. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Emotional attachment is nothing but a weakness. He realizes this even as he lowers his instrument, done with his song. It's something that weaklings and cripples and fools cling to. He's a weakling, so of course Kitferge clings to it. Perhaps he has multiple personalities? The blond smiles politely as people come and compliment him, raving about his performance, never saying a word. It's so funny because it's not. Kaito comes near the last. Kitferge has already given the man his violin back with a word of thanks. Kaito compliments him, and says some inane thing that Kitferge barely listens to. Amazing. Gentle. Gripping. Awful. Inspiring. Those are the only words that pop out. The player refuses to listen to any more, closing his sense of hearing and instead focusing on the older man. His whole demeanor is pleasant outwardly, and at Kaito's words, Kitferge awards him with a small, hesitant smile that should seem honest enough. He can take it how he wishes. There's not enough for him to say and too much at the same time. Kaito is a person that he wants to observe. How can he care so much about others? Why is it that he cannot break? Kitferge is so, so lost. Save me, a little, lost part of him wants to say, filled with light and hope and justice. For a minute, Kitferge can picture a mirror with two sides, one with the darkness that wants to be unleashed, that has been unleashed, growing and growing, and on the other side, a little, lost boy, shivering and frail. The darkness growls and swipes at the mirror. The boy screams, and the glass shatters into shards, and Kitferge is jolted out of his thoughts by ice-cold needles prickling on his skin. Do you know the story of your name? He asks himself gently, soothingly, kindly. The three things he has never known. Kitferge, which referenced an old tale. A story about an icy kingdom raised out of the barren wasteland called Vernhan built by nothing but the young king's own hands and his absolute will. The boy had only wanted to make a sanctuary without war, but with time, his thoughts and mind and soul became more and more corrupted. Eventually, the king's citizens revolted and killed the king, shaking with tears and sobs, but as soon as the first drop of blood touched the ice of the palace, the kingdom disappeared, never to be seen again. The king's name was Kitfern. You want to be kind, Kitferge? All kindness leads to utter disaster, the thoughts in his head croon, and Kitferge can feel something shift in him, something more. He pauses, tilts his head at Kaito, watches this man who yearns to be a hero. He wants much more. He wants escape. He wants redemption. I should let him die. So instead, he gives another smile, a little bigger but still perfectly honest, tugging on the edges of his lips but not broad enough. He pauses, flinches when Kaito gets a little too close. No matter what, it only reminds him of Aaron or Kathleen. He can't afford to love them right now, but Kitferge isn't that much of a fool to think that love is conditional. He turns to Kaito, hesitates. "Do you mind going to the fields on the outskirts of Horunka? It's not outside the safe zone, but the stars are out, and..." His eyes become a little unfocused, and that's one of the most honest things he's given Kaito today. Kitferge wants to tell him that Aaron taught him about the stars, but he doesn't. "I want to watch the stars." His expression remains pleasant enough, open enough. He passes in front of Kaito as they walk, and he suddenly turns when they reach their destination, laying down on the grass again and looking at Kaito. "I'm glad you enjoyed my song. It was a classical piece, but it became an original composition. You know, I'm thinking of titling it "Shards of Green". It reminded me of my conversation with you, somehow." His smile becomes wistful, almost nostalgic. Kitferge pauses and leans back, staring at the stars. Kaito can do as he wishes. Kitferge is empty, hollow, a clockwork golem without a heart. He simply does not, shall not, will not care anymore. He can't. "Does it hurt?" He asks suddenly, not looking at Kaito. "Is it supposed to hurt, thinking about your mother, of your absent father, of your friends? I feel hollow. Is that normal? It...doesn't ache like it normally does...it's just empty. I felt that way after I met you." It's a childish question, but Kitferge believes he has earned the right to be childish. His tone is quiet, but a note of petulance seeps in. It makes him seem younger, almost, but the tiny boy merely sighs and rolls over, awaiting a reply.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kaito]

"I'm no hero. I can't save my own life, let alone another. I was never a "Sapphire Samurai." Just a ronin fighting for ideals I can only hope to aspire to." ☒ Kitferge ✐ 1340 ✉ "Ohana means Family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten." Also, you can deduct 60 Col for the dinner basket. Kaito Lv3

The flow of time in Aincrad is convoluted sometimes and even as Kaito had kept his eyes shut through most of the performance, he recognized the evening sun closing on the horizon through his eyelids. Perhaps that was the reason so many players would get lulled into naps in the middle of the field as the changing times that felt so out of place for us real players made finding sleep difficult with how frequently time passes. Day and night cycles were nothing new to video games, nor MMOs for that matter but on the psyche of a player on it 24 hours, it made sleep patterns a nightmare. So as the last, sudden chords of Kit’s violin broke, he opened his eyes to a gathering of inebriated players before walking up to her. He glanced down at a number of glasses just asking to be taken as if asking him to add into the festivities. But after the young girl’s story of family abuse and alcoholism, not to mention the memory of a whisky soaked evening in Tolbana of alcohol and tears, he really felt turn off to the stuff for now… for tonight, anyways.     Besides, what he couldn’t get enough of was the smile on Kit’s face at the praise he sent her way. Having seen the mysterious young girl through most of the day shifting between curious stares to melancholy pouts to soft but purposeful glares, seeing her face upturned like this revealed a radiance that maybe she didn’t even know he had as the older man seemed brightened himself by her. “You have an… an amazing skill I wish I could have! Do you… do you play like that professionally in real life or…?” He asked her as she stepped down a little further, young Kit to him looking momentarily bashful from how close their proximity is. He watches her clench a little tightly, delicate fingers raised softly as if prepared to catch his chest if he attempted to move any closer to her and Kaito finds himself pausing and pulling back a bit. “Ah, sorry… I forget that even though we’ve been kind of, well, open today that we’ve just met. I just um…” He obviously is looking for the words, not wanting to cut their evening short but not wanting to push too forward either, especially as Kit seemed so reactionary to physical touch. For a split second he wondered if something… maybe even someone tried touching her inappropriately early in her life at one of these “parties” and it makes him have to hold back the indignation from making his blood boil. But he also remembers he’s trying to insert injustices that may not have even happened upon the beautiful blond, remember how terribly they backfired with Elpharae. He had to keep things in perspective, keep what he knew in check.     One didn’t need to protect a vampire. She’s very much capable of protecting herself.     Kaito finally figured out what he wanted to say and said it, “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to perhaps grab dinner or-“ "Do you mind going to the fields on the outskirts of Horunka? It's not outside the safe zone, but the stars are out, and..."     The two of them started just in time with other another, the dark haired older man stopping himself and chuckling at the coincidence of the two not yet ready to part ways as he chuckles and shyly brushes his fingers through his unkempt hair. “I’m sorry, please, you first.” He offered as Kit replied with a desire that sounded so childlike it rather surprised him. “I want to watch the stars.”     “O-Of course, no problem at all. Let me, uh, let me go grab something for an evening picnic maybe.” He suggested as Kit seemed to stride forth on her own course as he moved towards one of the still open stalls now illuminated by lantern in the village for dinner to keep up with the siren. It wasn’t that far out before the little blonde girl had decided their location as Kaito revealed what he had bought. He wasn’t too far away from the picnic concept as a large weave basket materialized hooped around Kaito’s elbow, pulling off the checkered blanket covering the top to lay upon. Fireflies illuminated a spread of finger sandwiches of ham and turkey, pottery with string-held tops holding steaming bowls of vegetable soup and a large bottle of apple cider (non-alcoholic, of course) along with all the utensils and glasses needed. As he sat there, looking out at the seemingly floating, unnatural lakes of Floor 1’s landscape illuminated by the moon above, wide plateaus held up on razor thin earth and strange symbols above them magically delivering crystal clear water in thousands of gallons a minute, he realized that today, for the first time in quite a while… he hadn’t really done much of anything game related. And it felt rather nice.     He listened as Kit told him about his composition and its name as he’s about to take a sip, for a moment left to ponder how to respond. Because the both of them knew where the green came from but it could be from the long waves, long pixel “shards” of green grass or… oh god, did someone from her family toss beer bottles at her? The green glow of a firefly passing his face could show him staring down at her with concern as he slowly made his own assessment. “…Moments of quiet reflection with frantic, crashing action. A rising, maddening crescendo. It might… it might be very appropriate.” The air seemed to chill as he realized that, while it was true that children could be cruel if you’re an outsider, the idea of such a household made him shiver. He felt… guilty over the privilege that he had growing up in relative comfort and a functional, loving family. He wanted to say something but it felt so alien to him, to possibly relate. How could he…? "Does it hurt?" He asks suddenly, not looking at Kaito. "Is it supposed to hurt, thinking about your mother, of your absent father, of your friends? I feel hollow. Is that normal? It...doesn't ache like it normally does...it's just empty. I felt that way after I met you."     Kaito was about to take another sip in an attempt to find the answer when another question gave him exactly what he needed, lidding the pottery and laying down along with the girl with golden hair as he began. “I think it’s supposed to hurt… at first. A lot of players, young and old, have been having to deal with the shock of being separated by their friends and family, having to start over with nothing but yourself to depend on. It… It feels alien and lonely and you feel lost at where to go and what to do. But… you’re not talking about being stuck in this game, are you?” He asked, now finding himself the one psychoanalyzing as opposed to her from this afternoon as he looked into an alien sky. They couldn’t see any constellations that looked familiar, nothing from the western or eastern. Not a little dipper or even an Orion’s Belt in the sky. This was a completely different world than their own in every way.     “Kit… I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through but I’d say that… you need to find your own ohana, your own family. Because while blood is strong, the connections you have with others is even stronger. Some people are lucky to have both. Others… others are luckier to find them along the way throughout their lives.” Kaito told her as he turned and gazed her way, finding only the long curtain of gold his only view as continued, finding his cheeks growing flush, “And… I hope I don’t sound presumptuous here, but I’m glad that I met you today. I, um… I feel like it was something I- maybe even we really, REALLY needed…”

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ Kaito ✐ 000 ✉ Kaito is surprisingly adept at handling dragons. He should be a dragon-tamer. Also, we have sappy, dangerous lies galore. This should be some sort of fantasy romance chick flick. XD Also, storytelling. Kitferge Lv1

"O...hana?" Kitferge tested out the word slowly, each sound rolling off his tongue hesitantly. "Ohana. The connections with others. It sounds...nostalgic, maybe. Like a fairy tale. And you...I think we both needed it. We might have led different lives, Kaito...but in essence, we both need to find our...ohana, correct?" He leaned back, staring at the sky. So different. So familiar. He can almost feel Aaron pressing by his side, gently picking up his arm to slide their wrists together, fingers encircling around his and his other arm going up to surround Avke, tracing the edges of the constellations, then retreating back, warm and understanding. Kathleen may have spent more time with him, but he knows she understands-for all the years in his life, Aaron is the only one he's never flinched away from once. It makes him ache inside, and a hand instinctively went to where his heart was, hearing the thump quietly resonate against his skin. He sat up, watching Kaito eat, uninterested but takes up a tiny tin canister of soup up, taking delicate sips before setting it down again. There's a moment when he smooths out the front of his clothes, a rush of warmth and compassion so unlike his earlier ire filling him up to the brim. Kitferge sits up, his eyes almost hazy, unfocused, really. He traces fingers over where the constellations should be, constant but not, watching the gleam of the bright light. "Let me tell you a story, okay? It's not really a story, so I'll tell you three. One is sad. It's very sad. It's...it's an okay story, though. There are worse ones to tell. It's not all real. Nothing is all real." "My friend...There was a girl who used to tell me that the world was interconnected with threads of energy. Everyone was filled with differently colored threads, she said. When you came by someone who had been pre-ordained to meet you, your energy would react until it instinctively pushed you to meet that person. And if you were lucky, that person would soothe your energy, and you would do the same for them." Kitferge paused, sliding his hair over one shoulder, staring at the sky. It was dark, wasn't it? How pretty. His blue eyes slid to Kaito, who must have been listening., wondering if he was really a siren, spinning tales and singing them out, bewitching the other.  "So. Let me go onto my next tale, shall I? It might be connected. It might be not. I'll never know." "There was a girl. A princess, really. She was the princess of a land of fire and sun and burning gold, the wind as dry as a parched man's throat, lands as beautiful as a million bright suns and twice as radiant. But she's not happy. No, this princess yearns for something more. She yearns for adventure, wants to learn the secret of the world. So she leaves." "Yes," Kitferge whispers, lost in his own tale of illusion and birthrights and lies, staring at nothing in particular. He sees a beautiful woman with coffee-colored skin, and chocolate-shaded skin, tall, exotic,  murmuring words of honey-scented wine into her suitor's ears, captivating them past all redemption. "She does leave." "She finds herself in a land brimming with promise, with souls beckoning to her, telling her to loose herself in their riches and glory. She does so. She looses her own. What, you might ask? Everything. This is the princess turned pauper. Anger rises in her every day. She tells the gods she has never believed in that it's not her fault. Oh, child, they croon back to her, laughing at her, she believes, from the skies above. Isn't it?" "She births a child. It's a pretty one, at least, but she sees it as a puppet. She's not a princess anymore. She gives herself away in exchange for golden coins that clink on her empty cans, and tiny cups of intoxicating wine. But she's too proud to be a pauper. So she sends her child to beg, instead. Every day." "So. This child yearns for a love that he's never received. He turns cold. Icy, they whisper, to the touch. He disappears to learn at the local academy. No one dares to approach him, everyone a royal in their own right, murmuring veiled insults behind the veneer of gentility. Except one, a quiet princess who is not of this world. She's a daughter of the wind. Even this pauper knows that much." "She's afraid. This new princess is afraid. But she offers, hesitantly, an olive branch to this pauper, the only one she's ever given. This pauper, so shocked to the core, opens himself to her, and she smiles. He tells her she is as radiant as the suns of a land he dreams of. She laughs." "Their energy intertwines, tying them together. They don't mind. It's a gesture of fate, they whisper, giggling. And then they meet another, the princess and the pauper, this time a prince. The pauper approaches him. The prince approaches the pauper. They don't flinch away. It's nice, they agree. Their energy spikes again, and then calms." "At some point in his life, the pauper discovers that he can sing like a canary. No, better. He can trill impossible melodies and not be short of breath, and with his youth, he's even more adored. His mother finds out. He sells his voice for money, joins competitions, watches the gold coins disappear into her pocket as she pats his head and murmurs wine-slurred words of love. He becomes hollow." "The prince tries to save him. It doesn't work. Love is for fairytales. And this story is not one of those. Not yet. The princess watches, mournful and sad, ever-present. She finds a kingdom in their minds, and urges him to join. He consents, emptily. They enter the kingdom. It's beautiful." "And then they find themselves under siege. Unable to leave. The princess starts to panic. Her throat closes up. She starts to suffocate. Slowly. Her eyes widen. She would scream if she could. The only one with her is the little pauper-turned-canary, and so to put her out of her misery, he kills her. He cannot watch her kill herself. But he enjoys it, he learns with mounting horror and euphoria. He enjoys it." "She disappears. This is more than just a siege. It's a death match. He cries for her. There's nothing left to do." Kitferge tucks a strand of golden hair behind his ear, musing. He hums the melody he played as individual notes. It sounds haunting, he realizes. "That's my second story." "My third story is a quiet tale, already common. You may have heard it before. Shakayamuni, the Buddha, is walking around paradise. He stops at a lotus-filled pond, and between the lilies, he can see the depths of Hell. His eyes rest on one sinner in particular. His name is Kandata." "Kandata is a criminal, but he had spared a single spider. The Buddha was moved, and took the silvery silk of the spider and lowered it down to Hell, making it a rope to Paradise. He waits. Down in Hell, they are struggling, these sinners. Kandata looks up, and sees the spider's thread. He climbs. But others begin to take notice when he is halfway up." "They begin to climb as well. Kandata, fearing that the thread will break from the weight, shouts that the thread is his. The silk snaps. They fall back into Hell. The Buddha witnesses this, but continues on, getting up. His selfishness has condemned him." Kitferge stops there. "That is the end." He picks up his canister of soup and sips it again, feeling the salty-thin taste on his tongue. Like tears. He's talking a lot today. Kitferge doesn't like it. But he feels this-this thing inside of him, all this bottled-up, pushed-aside emotion. He wants his childhood back. He wants his everything. He wants to talk and laugh and be normal, for once. A sudden wild impulse seizes him. He turns to Kaito. "Do you know why I play so well?" He places down his food, instead reaching for Kaito's wrist. His thumb slips, almost, but he ignored it, gently, hesitantly placing it over Kaito's heart. "I listen to your heart. I don't play for me. I listen to the beat of your heart, of your soul, of your minds as a metronome. That's how I play." He drops his hands again, and pauses. "If...if I do find my ohana, then will they find themselves in me?"

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kaito]

"I'm no hero. I can't save my own life, let alone another. I was never a "Sapphire Samurai." Just a ronin fighting for ideals I can only hope to aspire to." ☒ Kitferge ✐ 1467 ✉ This kind feels a bit rushed than some of my other posts but that's because I should have been in bed an hour ago. Still, more "real talk" and Kaito reveals himself to be very critical of religion... and murderers. (And yes, I did leave that last sentence up for interpretation.) Kaito Lv3

"O...hana?" Kitferge tested out the word slowly, each sound rolling off his tongue hesitantly. "Ohana. The connections with others. It sounds...nostalgic, maybe. Like a fairy tale. And you...I think we both needed it. We might have led different lives, Kaito...but in essence, we both need to find our...ohana, correct?"     “Yeah… I think you’re right.” Kaito replied warmly, as their soup soothed their souls and he looks over to see a girl far different than he had seen that afternoon. Or at least felt different than before. Maybe Kit had thrown up such a massive barrier to entry from all the hurt of her life up to this point and needed someone to approach her, with arms open and genuine concern. Maybe that was Kaito’s calling: not as a Front Liner or a Clearer but as someone that gives guidance and aid for those lost here in Aincrad. It certainly seemed like something better than his swordsmanship with his saber, for certain. For a moment, the dark haired man was content to simply look up into starry nebula above, a tummy slowly being satisfied and her presence nearby.     But at being told she had story to tell, those black eyes found their way to her as she told him the three seemingly connected stories to him. The first was more like a retelling of an urban myth or superstition as Kaito thought he remembered hearing something like this before. “Threads of energy… like string, right? That sounds a lot like the Red String of Fate. Where one’s pinkies are connected by an invisible connection that when you find one another, you just… know. But that’s usually meant for, er, soul mates instead of just regular relationships. And how they figured out it was red if it was invisible, well…” He explained as it sounded like a Far Eastern myth he knew but ending that last sentence with a bemused shrug and a smirk on his lips.     But the second story… Kaito’s body language changed as Kit’s vision of a great tragedy unfolded as the words sound very, VERY familiar to events hinted at by her earlier that day. First mostly looking at the young girl from the corner of his eye while still laying down, slowly finding himself sitting cross legged and placing his crossed fingers against his lips as he listened intently, trying to decipher its meaning. Was she referring to herself as the Pauper? But this character was male and supposedly, maybe of North African or Arabic descent. Was Kit the little princess that tried to find the good in him? Was the “killing” of her the “pauper” finally falling so far into despair with his life that he spurred his own friend in the world left? Maybe that was it… but he didn’t want to try and interpret it too far, make the wrong assumptions. For a moment he realizes he’s staring at her and thanks the darkness covers up his thoughts of how to respond. Kaito finally takes a shaky breath as he had been holding it for some time, his words slow and methodical.     “I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I feel for the pauper, I really do. His childhood, at least at school I can relate to and he has every right to be angry at his mother. She sounds like someone who chose to spur a life of stability and luxury for some… what, attempt at finding herself? To push herself into ever higher social circles she couldn’t reach? It sounded like she was secure where she once was and when everything crashed down, she blamed everyone around her.” He said, pondering out loud as he thought of his own situation, “I mean… I thought I was secure when I went off to collage too but the industry I was supposed to join went from bustling to nonexistent in a few years. She sounds like she went into bankruptcy while… well, partying.” He pondered further a moment as he wondered out loud, “I wonder if she looked down on others that were below her when she was still “a princess”…? Well… regardless, I can only imagine her like a beauty pageant mom, living through her child without really caring about their feelings or own desires. Maybe the pauper actually liked singing at one point but the love for it was worked out of him by his mother? It’s… disgusting.”     “But…” He began again, finding himself looking to the other hand, sticking to his interpretation of the story only, “I only wish he had the strength to be better than his mother. He had people that cared for him, it sounded like, two very important people that loved him. And he turned them away.” A green glow illuminated his face as his black eyes for the moment held a pensive look to them as he revealed his thoughts, “Hell, even murdered one of them. The little princess never begged to be killed, never asked her friend to end her life. But… how can one ask another like that? The price… it’s just too high, for both parties. Knowing his past, I understand how he could have grown so cold to the world but… the fact that he enjoyed it? That he likes to kill? Someone like that…”     Kaito’s eyes look into Kit’s as there’s a hardness to his voice, a vindictive righteousness as he concludes, “Despite his history, he chose to kill his only friend, to throw himself into his own world of despair. And I don’t think I could forgive someone like that.”     The dark haired man breathed out as he finished and shook his head, “S-So, this third story, is it a bit lighter in tone or…?” He asked as Kit’s third story was told. Though this tale actually was the first time Kaito had ever heard it. Despite his ethnicity, he was still very much American and raised in a predominately Christian country. But even if you’re raised amongst it, one can have very different interpretations as the lingering lights of fireflies left him looking… bothered. “Huh… so… what kind of criminal was Kandata? A thief? A robber? A murderer? Because one’s definition of a sinner might be someone else’s definition of desperation. If you can’t afford to eat and the State can’t or won’t do anything to help you, what other choice does one have?” The older man folds his arms in front of him, his face scrunched up as he continues, “And what kind of loving god literately dangles the chance of false hope of redemption in front of someone’s face and demands some secret test of character? Or even constantly demands continued trust in him despite many hardships he’s gone through in life? Job was a good, upstanding man who was a God fearing Christian who ended up being put into the middle of a… well, quite frankly a dick-swinging wager between God and Satan whether he’d curse his Lord for striking him with all sorts of hardships. Sure, Satan is supposedly the one killing his family and leaving his body feeble and diseased but God’s equally to blame for sitting back and letting this all happen in the first place! And wasn’t this supposed to be a wager against making just Job’s life miserable, not others around him? Is Shakayamuni or God really that loving if-“     Kaito blinks as he shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lets himself step back for a moment. “S-Sorry, I let myself get away from the topic there. Just… religion gets me going sometimes.” He admitted as it seemed the timid man actually had a passionate streak underneath all of his other hang ups. Did he actually have a bit of a temper that has smoldered down deep inside?     Still, that timid nature seemed to return as the young girl suddenly reached over and took his hand. Well, no, his wrist but still, the act sent him quickly glancing from her face to her touch and back again. Kaito had large hands that made her own seem tiny in comparison and she could practically feel his heart racing at their closeness at this moment. He almost missed what Kit was even telling him as he mumbled, “Um, huh… I-I, um… must be 200 beats per minute now…” He was glad she couldn’t see him glow in the cheeks before that soft question hit his ears, returning his gaze. Kit, much like him, desperately needed something to cling to and he hoped she would get it sometime very soon to perhaps fill whatever had put her into such a dark place.     “If they do, then they truly are your ohana.” He said with a wide smile, finding himself maybe closer now than ever before that day. Could she be what he’s looking for?

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ Kaito ✐ 000 ✉ Angry? Maybe. Insane? 50/50. *releases the dragon*  Kitferge Lv1

Kitferge rested his chin in his hand, recounting on what the man had spoken. Of course, he had listened, but there was nothing to be said then. But this was now. He sipped his broth, tasting the salty bitterness, like tears. There was a song, a nursery rhyme, really, that Aaron liked to sing to the kids he babysat, and the soup reminded him of it, salty and hot, like the song stated. A small, amused grin fell on his face. Salty and hot, boiling, bubbling! Salty and hot! Hot, hot, hot, it burns! He hummed the melody for a bit before catching himself. It seemed that today was a day full of memories, and so he indulged in those thoughts before remembering to review Kaito's words. What had he said? His brow furrowed, just to remember, and then, his fingers almost slipped from the edges of the canister, the smooth tin allowing his fingers to glide against the cool metal before he caught himself and steadied the container “But…I only wish he had the strength to be better than his mother. He had people that cared for him, it sounded like, two very important people that loved him. And he turned them away. Hell, even murdered one of them. The little princess never begged to be killed, never asked her friend to end her life. But… how can one ask another like that? The price… it’s just too high, for both parties. Knowing his past, I understand how he could have grown so cold to the world but… the fact that he enjoyed it? That he likes to kill? Someone like that…Despite his history, he chose to kill his only friend, to throw himself into his own world of despair. And I don’t think I could forgive someone like that.” Kitferge could feel his earlier warmth receding, remaining in his previous position and still seeming contemplative, and to Kaito, he hoped it seemed like nothing had changed, but his friendliness and openness had disappeared, leaving himself with nothing but coolness. What had he thought spilling his life story out to some random stranger would do? The blond curled his lip, scornful of himself. How utterly weak. He hated weakness within himself, and the man's next words only chilled his earlier opinions more. “And what kind of loving god literately dangles the chance of false hope of redemption in front of someone’s face and demands some secret test of character? Or even constantly demands continued trust in him despite many hardships he’s gone through in life? Job was a good, upstanding man who was a God fearing Christian who ended up being put into the middle of a… well, quite frankly a dick-swinging wager between God and Satan whether he’d curse his Lord for striking him with all sorts of hardships. Sure, Satan is supposedly the one killing his family and leaving his body feeble and diseased but God’s equally to blame for sitting back and letting this all happen in the first place! And wasn’t this supposed to be a wager against making just Job’s life miserable, not others around him? Is Shakayamuni or God really that loving if-“ Are they? He wanted to ask, completely and utterly filled with scorn and disgust. Since when were gods loving? Are you insane, Kaito? They are not loving. They are merciful, sometimes, but certainly not loving. Why should they? We follow their rules, and if we are particularly clever or strong or kind or beautiful, they like us and reward us. We are nothing but pawns to them in a game of chess that in which they break the pieces and urinate on them. You think they love us? You think that they could? You think that we believe that they are capable of love? You are wrong. We are nothing but toys, puppets, really, like a father bringing his daughter a doll that she can coo at but ultimately throw away when she finds something better. Kitferge's eyes turned dark, vindictive, judgmental, tender, but his face was turned away, not showing his expression to the other. Don't you understand? We are nothing. If there are gods among us, they seek to destroy for their own amusement and collect the canaries that sing the brightest like jewels to their shining collection. And so Kitferge went to face Kaito again, a small, bright, fake-honest smile on his lips, delicate and elegant, his face turned just the right way to make him look innocent, the same look he'd pandered to many of critics and charmed them with, and averted his gaze "shyly", tucking a blonde strand of hair behind his ear as he "timidly" cleared his throat, staring at Kaito, half-wanting to say something and yet not, murmuring random melodies and words under his breath, somehow nervous and yet not. You should die, he imagines saying, his polite smile still remaining. He can almost anticipate the choked breath that Kaito might make, the way he way he'll go limp on his blade before disappearing into a shower of pixels. His smile becomes more honest, a hint of playfulness leaking through, more radiant, almost. How interesting would it be to paralyze him, watching that trust turn into fear? Anger. Hate. Those are all concepts familiar to him. You see, Kaito? The pauper turned canary does not need your forgiveness. In fact, he never needed it at all. Then he follows up his actions from earlier with a stammering question, but Kitferge makes sure his face is turned away. The blonde makes sure that everything is in place, that this single action cannot fall. So dramatic, he sighs, thinking about himself. Well, all the world's a play, isn't it? "Kaito...would you be part of my ohana?" He's not sure how the word works, but he rolls with it, because that's all he can do now, really. He brushes away his bangs and blinks, his eyelashes having tangled up. And then he turns to Kaito and curls up, dark thoughts swirling around him like a cloud. Rope. Poison. Tiny, stinging cuts. Drowning. Could you even drown in SAO? He contemplated it, then shrugged internally. Whatever.  He had already chosen, anyways. But would it really happen? Probably not. That's why it was so amusing, after all. He could kill Kaito over and over again without ever stopping. He tilts his head, enamored with the concept. Then he squeezes into an even tighter ball, and murmurs incomprehensible words under his breath. Kaito can say what he wants. His eyelids slip closed, and he serenely slips into a state of half-consciousness, not awake but not asleep. It's pleasant, really. The blond doesn't want it to end. Not yet. But all good things come to an end.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kaito]

"I'm no hero. I can't save my own life, let alone another. I was never a "Sapphire Samurai." Just a ronin fighting for ideals I can only hope to aspire to." ☒ Kitferge ✐ 618 ✉ Just a small ending post for this thread, at least that was where I was seeing this going. *gives the dragon a binkie and his blankie and sings a lullaby* Kaito Lv3

The maelstrom of deviant thoughts and furious contemplations on ways to kill him were completely lost on the young man as Kaito couldn’t see the blonde girl’s intentions through that veneer of sweetness and innocence. It was hard to imagine her looking as such just hours before, hazily contemplating his destruction, looking at him with almost deadly desire. She was… an enigma, a wonder. What she was, who she was… it left him confused and curious and spellbound… and a little frightened. Frightened at what she must have been through in such little time she’d been on earth. Frightened at what she had become. Could he save her? Could he help her go through the problems she had been in her life? “Kaito… would you be part of my ohana?”     His dark eyes blink in the dark as he watched the little thing curl up, her words dreamy and perhaps full of sleep as he couldn’t help but feel like she needed him in some way. In what form or need…? Well, he hoped as a friend, maybe a surrogate for a family member she never got… her “onii-sama” perhaps…? No, no, that would be pushing it. But it was something he thought about as he responded back gently, “I… I’d like that, absolutely. I’d be there whenever you… um…” He began, seeing another soft green light of a firefly glow nearby to show her eyes had closed in her curled up form, a cool spring breeze causing her perfect hair to wave gently as he whispered, “Um… K-Kit…? Are you…? Ah…” It seemed that all the playing she had done that afternoon and evening must have worn her out or simply the heaviness of all their conversation had left her drained. He could understand that.     Kaito gently moved the picnic basket out of the way and off the blanket, taking their food items and carefully returning them inside it. Unlike the real world, the food in Aincrad never spoiled, just phased out into pixels if ever dropped into an inedible lump on the ground, like an ice cream scoop flopping out of a cone. Maybe it would be a nice breakfast or brunch for her whenever she woke up. Taking the side of the blanket he was laying out, he gently pulled it over her side and tucked Kit in for an evening under the stars… though he thought he saw a metallic glint between her delicate fingers momentarily. For a half second he pondered if it were her weapon but chose to think it only an item of comfort. He let his mermaid sleep amongst the dark “kelp” that softly swished around them.     It was time he headed to bed as well. He’d bring in the quest he was doing tomorrow in the morning. That handaxe wasn’t going anywhere. It was time he got back to the Inn in the Town of Beginnings. She was safe out here, abide if anyone chose to steal their meal that is but with how inexpensive feeding oneself in Aincrad was, it didn’t seem likely. The only thing left he felt was a quick swipe in front of him, the familiar array of buttons in front of him as he guided his cursor directly over her name above her head. He smiled down at her sleeping form as he hit another grouping of buttons, finding that Port Stone he was looking for. “Good night Kit.” Kaito whispered down to the little thing before hitting the “Use” button, and disappearing in a collection of shimmering blue pixels. A tiny, momentary twinkle on her HUD would be his farewell gift to her for the morning: KAITO wants to be your Friend: ALLOW/DENY

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Kitferge]

"You think you know something, just one thing about me? How absurd." ☒ Kaito ✐ 000 ✉ "The maelstrom of deviant thoughts" is like poetry. Seriously. *bows to Kaito* Also, closing this~ *Goes off and sneaks sappiness and over dramatization into the post* Kitferge Lv1

Kitferge listened to the footsteps of Kaito fade away as he curled up, eyelashes fluttering and his eyes pulling open slowly. He propped himself up as he watched the man’s frame disappear completely. You’re a funny one, Kaito. A very funny one. Who knew that weak exterior held something like steel within?  Where and when will that strength aid you in your travels? And, he added softly within his mind, letting the word roll over his metaphorical tongue like silk, where will it be the end of you instead? He pulled his body into a sitting position and his nose twitched as he flicked his wrist, opening his HUD easily and accepting Kaito's friend request. His blue eyes raked over the screen before he dismissed it, leaning back, exhaustion seeping into his body once more as he mused on the older player's words. “I… I’d like that, absolutely. I’d be there whenever you… um…”  What will you be there for, Kaito? What will you be there for when you can't even be here for when I "wake up"? His fingers curled around his dagger tighter, making his knuckles whiten. His eyes narrowed, filled with contempt and disgust. He longed to stab something, to watch it die, to see it suffer the same pain as he did. The blond settled for stabbing the ground. You want to lie with your visions of righteousness and kindness? Go ahead. Delude yourself. Tell everyone your lies of justice and truth and honesty and selflessness. His fury heightened, and Kitferge wanted to crush something, his eyes darkening with every single word that crossed his thoughts. Let that "justice", that "light" of yours that you believe in destroy you utterly. Alttuyur maksura, he might have called himself once, with Kathleen by his side and her cocking her head in confusion, her face politely blank. Broken bird, like how she had been his little bird.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS