[attr="class","reasonbg"]

[attr="class","reasonbod"]There were so many people, and the light, and everything was moving in a way that left them struggling to breathe. If they passed out in their office, would their avatar collapse to the ground? Or would they just continue to stand idly by, waiting for the world to change and saying nothing at all? Which would draw more attention? Which was less embarrassing?

Do not get sick.

Craven whipped around to face the void, saved from answering by a slew of compliments that flushed their face an unsightly red that clashed beautifully with the purple everything about them. Their hair, the cloak, all of it. Words, they needed to say words, she was being wonderfully sweet and Craven needed to say words. "Thank you so much! Yeah, I'm - " She was still talking. Okay, kind of rude.

Wait.

They were still muted.

In the universal sign of one moment please, Craven held up a single finger to Mouse. How were they even going to explain this. There was a way to type somewhere, wasn't there? They could send a message? Emrys began to tap, hitting keys just to see what happened, muttering furiously the entire time. "Of course I'm muted. Or this is push to talk, but why wouldn't I be muted - " Their voice rose. " - the exact MOMENT I NEED TO TALK TO SOMEONE - "

Craven clapped both hands over their mouth, aware by the sudden turn of the head from several nearby strangers that they were definitely not muted anymore. Their voice went from a full volume rage to scarcely audible, croaked out, their shoulders drawn up almost into their hair. "Thank you. Sorry. I." Every other word punctuated with a half-squeak. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell, and I was muted, and - do you have a tail?"

[attr="class","reasontag"]Mouse - 309 words - behold, a living -2 int.

[attr="class","reasonbg"]

[attr="class","reasonbod"]There was every reason in the world to apologize. Craven could think of at least thirty-seven off the top of their head. But Mouse was right in the fact that nobody seemed to give a rodent's behind about what Craven was doing - the momentary pause in the world's motions had already stuttered to a start again, leaving them to take in the relentless sound of footsteps across the stone floors. Still, Craven's flushed face remained, and they checked several times that they weren't muted before summoning words. "Yeah, um, I guess so."

Busy was certainly the word. "Are all of these people players?" Craven managed, sounding strained.

As Mouse chattered away, Craven couldn't help but lean down to look - and they had to lean. She was. Short. But she more than made up with it in looking amazing, between the tail reminisce of some deep sea thing and were those eyes on her shirt corset bracer thing? Craven faltered. They felt, abruptly, very plain, even with their own cloak flared around them like a particularly feathered blanket. "I mean you can talk about yourself all day, like I said. I don't know anything. So."

Something was more than the negative facts that Craven contained behind pale brown eyes and a wry twisted smile. "It looks cool to me. And I'm the only other person here, so my opinion is the only one that matters." Their voice steadied the more they spoke, although the second they took time to breathe the embarrassment of moments before tried to rush back in and overwhelm them. "What are you apologizing for, it's not like you're a paid tour guide. I'm just some guy who doesn't know how to read a directions booklet."

Was there a directions booklet?

Oh shit right, they hadn't formerly introduced themselves. "Uh - yeah, I'm Craven, er. The forum. Yeah." They hadn't mentally addressed how to say dru1d1c out loud, and they'd already lost track of how Mouse had said it about three seconds before Craven had started screaming. "I'm er, ready whenever, I guess, if there's nothing I'm supposed to do in here." The World really was just going to turn them loose like a feral cat in a barn lot.

A very jumpy, easily alarmed feral cat. As the notification flared in their vision, Craven jerked, the feathers of their coat seeming to stand on end. "Oh." How the f- "Like that?" There was an ADD button, how difficult could it be? "Do you see it?"

They'd muted their mic again. Craven, somehow feeling seasick with both feet planted on the ground, did a rapid tip tap of fingers on keys before the icon banished itself, and a low groan left them. "Sorry. I'm still ... figuring everything out, apparently." Was everyone else having this problem? Or were they just special? Only time would tell. Craven ran anxious twitching fingers through their hair, making a mess of it, and settled their gaze back on Mouse. "Lead the way, boss."

[attr="class","reasontag"]Mouse - 506 words - behold, a living -2 int.

[attr="class","reasonbg"]

[attr="class","reasonbod"]If Craven noticed the look they didn't acknowledge it. Or perhaps they simply didn't know how to interpret it, and the building frustration over their mute button woes had swallowed up all other anxiety, like wondering if Mouse were insulted by the remark and unsure how to show it.

Okay they were still anxious but that wasn't the point. At Mouse's outburst, Craven blinked rapidly, mouth twisted in the faintest semblance of a frown. "You've apologized like seventeen times and you didn't even do anything. I screamed in your ear." But it was their first day. Mouse was right. No one was perfect, no one could do everything right the first time, no one could - well, someone could, but it wasn't Craven.

The Chaos Gate seemed a threatening name for what looked like a glorified mirror.

Keywords. On the other end, Emrys began to feel around their desk read a pen. Or, wait, was there a menu somewhere that would let them take notes? Yet Mouse was already moving, and talking about Root Towns, and there were keywords on the BBS anyway so it was fine. All of this was fine. They'd figure it out eventually, right? All that mattered right now was getting the feel of the controls, not making an ass out of themself, and apparently staying in Mac Anu for the rest of their life. Now and then Craven made a noise to the tune of indicating listening, knowing the second they opened their mouth they would forget whatever Mouse had just said. "It would definitely be window shopping," Craven replied dryly, hopping in place for a moment to indicate their empty pockets.

They'd probably have to actually wander out to make any money, which boded well for their potential spending habits. Every step further out had Emrys hovering the exit key. They hadn't expected this, the all of it, the people, the looks. Didn't people have better things to do? Yet Craven found themself caught up in the same behavior, pausing now and then to admire the gear others carried.

And then they stalled, taken aback by Mouse's latest tidbit of knowledge. The World really did just let them go anywhere. Craven inhaled, exhaled, and spoke around the start of a grimace. "I mean, nobody is going to want to get killed, so I can't imagine them dragging me along. I'm not going to be much help I imagine, and - " They stopped, wincing. "Sorry, that was really self-deprecating. But ... well."

Going anywhere alone sounded like a bad idea, honestly, but going with someone else and getting them hurt sounded worse. Craven fell into silence, caught up in looking in every direction, absorbing the world around them - and there was plenty to absorb. Away from the Chaos Gate, the city opened up, and Craven found their attention drawn first to the fountain and then to the towering structure within it.

Namely, some guy perching on top like a glorified pigeon and looking in the other direction. Craven couldn't help but stare. "People can fly? Can you fly?" They jerked their attention back to Mouse with interest, their arms no longer tucked nervously across their chest.

[attr="class","reasontag"]534 words - oh it's a whole party.

[attr="class","reasonbg"]

[attr="class","reasonbod"]Craven, caught up momentarily in taking in the spread of city life that collected in Mac Anu, registered too late that they had said something wrong. At least, in the sense that it was enough to draw Mouse's ire. The grappler jerked, gaze pulling away from the lizard folk hanging off the obelisk to their companion's face, absorbing the words in little uncertain bursts.

Oh.

Once again Craven turned absolutely scarlet, wishing they could take a step back and vanish into the crowd. They hadn't even really retained what they'd said, not really, because it didn't matter and because it was true wasn't it? Mouse certainly didn't think so. Although she wasn't yelling really, Craven still felt themself lock up in surprise, nerves on edge. They blinked. Say something. They needed to say words. Any amount of words. "Oh."

Oh???

Craven, still taken aback by the entire experience, put a note away that they'd be broke forever because gods knew they weren't going anywhere after this. If anything they would be taking several steps back, because in the aftershock of Mouse's talking to, Craven absorbed the next bit. Specifically the Uncle Amphi bit. There was a jerking moment, of gears clicking together, of information settling in.

Fuck.

"Oh?" Craven managed, feeling their throat start to close up. They had said more than a couple of slightly antagonizing things on the BBS, and they hadn't really expected to run into this person, or anyone, out here. Not really. Like, sure, Craven had agreed to some banter, but they were a nobody, it wasn't actually supposed to go anywhere or produce anything. Noblesse was familiar too, at least in name, but before Craven could summon up the gall to say something about Ornery needing therapy if he were putting himself down that early in the conversation, they registered.

The avatar that was Craven held up a single finger, the universal one moment remark, and went still.

On the other end, Emrys removed their headset and resisted the urge to scream. What was that? What the hell was that? Not even just the situation, but Noblesse, specifically. After a few moments of breathing and thinking and processing, Emrys replaced the headset and leaned in to look. They had not seen that in the character creation menu. "What the fuck," Emrys mumbled, finger hovering the mute button.

Their heart jumped. Had they hit the button already? Were they muted right now? Had their mic picked that up? Wait.

Craven did a small wiggle in place indicating life, inhaled, and tried to find words. "Hi, sorry, I keep. I keep losing, uh, I keep muting. I keep hitting buttons, sorry." Holy shit. "I, hi." Mouse had said this was a good thing, but the anxiety and hand shaking that Craven felt now did not feel like a good thing. If anything the heart palpitations were definitely not a healthy thing.

Maybe that was more to blame on energy drinks than the situation but that wasn't the point.

"You, um. Your class is ... biting?" Craven tried to sound polite, but it just came out forced and probably condescending. "I, immune, that's. Good. I mean, I guess, level 9 seems like a weird ... cut off, who picked that number?" The laugh was forced. God. "I'm Craven." Had Mouse said that already? "Er. We met, on the forums, I think. On the BBS, I mean."

They were going to die. Who cared that they were immune, they were going to die.

[attr="class","reasontag"]594 words - oh it's a whole party.