Goldenflame27

Far From Home

Kenshin watched the proceedings with more than a little nervousness. Go back out? He’d just got back, and was quite tired. He didn’t know if he was up to fighting again today, but he did not want to seem like a coward. That jerk Luna already seemed to not like him for some reason. Kenshin would never seek to give her a concrete purpose to dislike him, but they were going to fight a Field Boss soon. Those things were terrifying; it would kill him in a second. Hell, it’d kill them all, the whole team. Unless… Standing, Kenshin clenched the hilt of his blade with his left fist and grimaced something fierce. He was stronger than this, dammit. He might die, but he would do it with blade in hand and fire in his soul. If there was anything Kenshin prided himself on, it was the ability to see something through to the end. No matter what difficulties may lay between here and there.

Kenshin decided that it was time to don the few bits of armor he didn’t normally wear out and about. The thought of putting the last bit of armor on brought a miniscule smile to the corners of his mouth. Oh tiny gods, but he loved this stuff. Kenshin swiped his left hand to open the inventory and slowly equipped the last few items. First came a pair of heavy, fingerless, leather gloves with ovoid brass disks set into the knuckles and running halfway down the back of the hand. In addition to a weak stat bonus on his defense, the gloves reduced the cast time on Sword Arts very slightly. Next came hobnailed combat boots lacing partway up each shin. Honestly, Kenshin was completely and totally in the dark as to what the boots did, but Fisk assured him that they were fine for the level at which he was at. The penultimate armor was a braided band, quite similar to his sword belt, but holding back his long black hair. This accoutrement had absolutely no intrinsic value, other than keeping him from being blinded. Oh, and making a seriously wicked warrior’s knot in the back of his head. Finally, came the best part. A dazzling shimmer of light wound its way around Kenshin’s chest, crosswise to the braided sword belt. The light resolved itself into a simple band of leather, black of course, with several small loops. Into these loops materialized a number of throwing picks, thin spikes of gleaming metal with a flattened disk forming the back end. These weapons were flung with great force and some fair accuracy. They were meant for medium range, to slow down or stun an advancing opponent. The picks were a bit on the expensive side due to their quality, and the Sword Art used to propel them was procured with Kenshin’s latest level up. After some significant practice, Kenshin had finally become decent with the weapons. In fact, the money and items he had brought in today were gained solely using the glorified darts and one Art to finish off particularly resilient enemies.

Dressed at last, Kenshin turned to his companions and flashed a slight confident grin. “Let’s give ‘em hell guys.” It was all very stirring. Like watching a cocoon open and seeing, not a butterfly emerge, but a deadly horned beetle…. And then watching that beetle fall over onto the ground and get crushed underfoot. Because Kenshin, being Kenshin, couldn’t keep his coramned mouth shut. Watching the ensuing blabbering and stumbling on words was likened to watching a train wreck try to drown itself. Ridiculous, horrifying, embarrassing, and funny as hell.

The Inhuman Warriors

Thomas got the binoculars from his half-brother Greg and quickly glanced through them to see just what the hell all the uproar was over. What he saw would be seared into his memory forever. The green- skinned beasts were massacring the people in the house. The axes hewed limb from limb easier than sliding a hot knife through butter, and the crudely fashioned clubs broke bones and mangled flesh with sickening ease. And the worst part was that Thomas knew exactly what these things were, and it was impossible. Goblins didn’t exist. Tom remembered sitting on a porch swing with his grandmother and listening to her stories of fantastical monsters and horrifying beasts. Some distant part of his mind told him that the Team had to leave, and soon, but Tom was transfixed by the macabre scene before him. Then the training kicked in. He didn’t go through years of training to freeze the first time something didn’t make sense to him.

“Greg, Sarge, I’ve got some Intel on the situation! I know what those things are,” called Thomas. The Sergeant First Class whipped around and levelled a fierce glare in Tom’s direction.

“Alucan! If you have good Intel, you share it immediately! You got me?! Just because you’re our recon specialist, doesn’t mean you can wait till you feel like it to give us information.”

“No sir! It just occurred to me what these things are. It doesn’t make sense, but they’re goblins; straight out of folklore. According to folklore, Gobs are fiercely territorial and savage in combat. They have even been known to feast on the flesh of their victims whilst they still live. Gobs have tremendous strength which, along with their sheer numbers, greatly offset their crude weapons.” Tom was slightly shaking by the time he finished speaking, and took a few seconds to breathe slowly. The Sergeant’s face was slowly becoming a rather interesting shade of purple in his rage. Before he could speak, however, a shout from one of the assembled Delta Force members drew the attention of the three men. A small group of Gobs had noticed the group and decided that where they were was also Gob territory. Eight of the beasts were currently charging the soldiers and brandishing their weapons wildly. From this range, Tom could pick out various bits of the Gob’s previous victims still staining the edges. He drew his pistols, a M9 semi-automatic pistol and a Smith & Wesson Model 19 Revolver, and shouted to his brothers-in-arms, “Delta Force, engage the enemy!”

The rattles and clicks of weapons being cocked and safeties turned off were music to his ears. He knew that his brethren were just as startled and frightened as him, but by God, they were Delta Force and these bastards were going down!

Far From Home

Just as Fitch had finished speaking, the last member of the team walked up the cobbled street. He was a tall, thin boy with long jet-black hair. The kind of person who would usually stumble over their own long limbs when walking. Kenshin Takami was blessed to have been born without this natural gawkiness, though, and walked with a natural grace that gave the illusion of water flowing gently. This grace was offset by the clear unease he felt at being in such a bustling environment. Kenshin skirted carefully around larger groups of players and NPCs and went far out of his way to avoid touching or making eye contact with anyone, his hand never straying far from the hilt of the curved sword worn on his left hip. The scabbard was held on a long belt of braided black leather that looped from Kenshin’s hip, up around his chest, and over his right shoulder. Unlike the vast majority of players, Kenshin also wore his full battle armor in town. It consisted of black dress pants, not unlike those of a military dress uniform, and a black vest studded with small metal plates worn over a high-collared crimson tunic. A recently acquired black leather duster finished off the ensemble. On any similarly tall man, the whole getup would be rather intimidating and contrarily suave. With Kenshin behaving as awkwardly as he was, the whole thing just looked ridiculous.
After weaving his way through the bustling crowd, Kenshin eventually came up to Luna, Yuri, Fitch, and Suto. Kenshin stopped a short distance and nervously shifted from foot to foot.
“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. I got here a couple of hours early and decided to go do some solo hunting. Sorry I didn’t invite any of you, but I figured you were all kinda busy… In any event, do any of you know what to do with uhhh…,” Kenshin swiped his left hand through the air and opened his inventory, “some… orcskin, scrapmetal, or ‘plain stone’? ‘Cause I got those while hunting. Oh, and 65 col. I guess that’s something like 13 col per person? Now I’m rambling. Sorry. I’ll stop now. Sorry.”
Kenshin looked away from the group, a slow flush creeping up his neck. Without glancing back, he walked over to a tall, wrought-iron, gas-burning lamp next to the bench where the others sat. Only then did he raise his gaze to peek through his hair at his partymates.

Far From Home

Display Name: Kenshin
Real Name: Kenshin Takami
Age: 17
Appearance:


http://anime.desktopnexus.com/wallpaper/328142/

Background: Kenshin was born in the coastal city of Niigata and is about as nerdy as you can get. His parents have always stressed the importance of following one’s own interests. The problem is, Kenshin doesn’t like social activities. Kenshin often overworks himself in school and is quite hard on himself when it comes to failure. He is pretty solitary in nature and enjoys reading or playing video games over all else. He mostly plays video games offline and by himself, though recently has been playing more online. He met Hiro, Alexander, and Mizuki separately in different video games and, despite never having met them in person, considers them to be among his few friends. When he heard of the Nerve Gear, Kenshin consulted with the trio and was persuaded to purchase it himself along with SAO. Kenshin planned on meeting up with Hiro, Alexander, and Mizuki in Aincrad and perhaps joining a guild with them if they’d have him. He thought it would help him get over his aversion to social interaction. When the game started however, Kenshin found himself trapped in an eternal hell surrounded with people and no way to get out.

SAO Player Build: Two-handed katana user with light to medium armor. Also carries several throwing picks for medium range.

hi

well, I'm back. The site quit on me before I could get started the first time but I am glad it's all in order again.