Post by Wallace on May 22, 2016 1:22:38 GMT
Boars. Boars. Boars.
Wallace grunted as he sat up, the man having attempting to sleep yet again. Sleeping here in this world was an odd thing. His brain did eventually drift out of consciousness after awhile but he never really...slept. It was an odd feeling for him, and he knew it had something to do with the setup that he had. He could be damned to remember the name of the equipment, though. It had a name that made it seem pretty straight-forward, but his wife had always needed to remind him exactly what it was called. And now that she was gone...he no longer had her memory to rely on. The worse part was, part of the reason he had such trouble sleeping was his mind almost invariably drifted back to those hours immediately following the announcement. They'd both agreed they'd get to the frontlines and help to get out of this stupid game and then...the PKer had hit.
He closed his eyes, moving his hand over his face as he struggled to sit up a little further. His mind had two modes, while he was still stuck here at this low level. The first and foremost were the memories of his wife's passing which were slowly starting to fade already, even in the short few weeks that it had been. There was so much information that his mind was processing here that it didn't seem to retain as much as he could. Then again, with how poor his memory was in the first place, it was a wonder he even remembered what his name was, some days. The other mode, of course, were boars. He couldn't even be sure how many of them he had fought against so far in his quest to ascend beyond the first level, but all of those battles seemed to swarm together in his brain, nothing really sitting long enough for it to be memorable, outside of the very first, and even that memory was starting to fade, what with the fact that he'd fought against so many more, thus far.
His eyes opened slowly as he exhaled, the grizzled expression on his face, not of a veteran of wars or combat, but more simply just a man who had lived a great number of years more than anyone else. It seemed that even the shop keepers and such that he came into contact with were all younger than he, or if they were middle-aged, they were almost...humorously so. Either rotund or with their own problems. None of them really seemed all that 'real' to him overall. It was a difficult situation for him, one that he wondered if it was just his age, or if there was another reason but he didn't find himself getting 'lost' in this world as a lot of the others did. His sole purpose here was to get out of it. He had wanted to dive for an afternoon, and now he had been here for...he wasn't even sure how long. He'd lost count of the days- it also didn't help that he couldn't really sleep, either.
Sighing, he moved to stand, finding, at least, that he didn't have the slight aches and pains that he did in the real world and he supposed that counted for something, though he didn't know what exactly. He supposed that was the one benefit of this damn world, that he'd found so far. With a grunt, the grouchy old fellow made his way down the stairs from the inn that he wa sstaying at. He still didn't have enough to afford any personal housing for himself, and as such, he didn't have any place to call his own, yet. The problem was, with that style of thinking, if he focused on having a place of his own, he would have to admit that this place held some sort of relevance. He would need to put effort into getting something in this world other than trying to escape it and that very thought didn't sit all too well with him...though he also knew that he didn't have much choice. For how long it was going to take, it just made sense for him to get something of his own.
He gave a wave to the NPC innkeeper who waved back as he was programmed to do as he made his way outside the front doors. Not really paying attention to who might be around, the man exhaled. "I hate this goddamn place," he spoke, his accent coming on strong in his irritation.
Wallace grunted as he sat up, the man having attempting to sleep yet again. Sleeping here in this world was an odd thing. His brain did eventually drift out of consciousness after awhile but he never really...slept. It was an odd feeling for him, and he knew it had something to do with the setup that he had. He could be damned to remember the name of the equipment, though. It had a name that made it seem pretty straight-forward, but his wife had always needed to remind him exactly what it was called. And now that she was gone...he no longer had her memory to rely on. The worse part was, part of the reason he had such trouble sleeping was his mind almost invariably drifted back to those hours immediately following the announcement. They'd both agreed they'd get to the frontlines and help to get out of this stupid game and then...the PKer had hit.
He closed his eyes, moving his hand over his face as he struggled to sit up a little further. His mind had two modes, while he was still stuck here at this low level. The first and foremost were the memories of his wife's passing which were slowly starting to fade already, even in the short few weeks that it had been. There was so much information that his mind was processing here that it didn't seem to retain as much as he could. Then again, with how poor his memory was in the first place, it was a wonder he even remembered what his name was, some days. The other mode, of course, were boars. He couldn't even be sure how many of them he had fought against so far in his quest to ascend beyond the first level, but all of those battles seemed to swarm together in his brain, nothing really sitting long enough for it to be memorable, outside of the very first, and even that memory was starting to fade, what with the fact that he'd fought against so many more, thus far.
His eyes opened slowly as he exhaled, the grizzled expression on his face, not of a veteran of wars or combat, but more simply just a man who had lived a great number of years more than anyone else. It seemed that even the shop keepers and such that he came into contact with were all younger than he, or if they were middle-aged, they were almost...humorously so. Either rotund or with their own problems. None of them really seemed all that 'real' to him overall. It was a difficult situation for him, one that he wondered if it was just his age, or if there was another reason but he didn't find himself getting 'lost' in this world as a lot of the others did. His sole purpose here was to get out of it. He had wanted to dive for an afternoon, and now he had been here for...he wasn't even sure how long. He'd lost count of the days- it also didn't help that he couldn't really sleep, either.
Sighing, he moved to stand, finding, at least, that he didn't have the slight aches and pains that he did in the real world and he supposed that counted for something, though he didn't know what exactly. He supposed that was the one benefit of this damn world, that he'd found so far. With a grunt, the grouchy old fellow made his way down the stairs from the inn that he wa sstaying at. He still didn't have enough to afford any personal housing for himself, and as such, he didn't have any place to call his own, yet. The problem was, with that style of thinking, if he focused on having a place of his own, he would have to admit that this place held some sort of relevance. He would need to put effort into getting something in this world other than trying to escape it and that very thought didn't sit all too well with him...though he also knew that he didn't have much choice. For how long it was going to take, it just made sense for him to get something of his own.
He gave a wave to the NPC innkeeper who waved back as he was programmed to do as he made his way outside the front doors. Not really paying attention to who might be around, the man exhaled. "I hate this goddamn place," he spoke, his accent coming on strong in his irritation.