[center][h1][color=orange][u]O c h r e[/u][/color][/h1][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]  • Tʜᴇ Dᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ • [/center][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][center][@Superboy][@Stern Algorithm][/center]

At Altissima's side, Ochre could already see the circumstances changing. With each player that rose from their despair, another would rise and answer the call. Graves had started the flame of determination, but everyone else had fanned it into a roaring fire, their hearts ablaze as they steadied themselves for what was to come. Of course, the fear and desperation wasn't entirely quenched, with each conflagration flickering with hesitation even as they poured out their embers to spark the others into ignition. But it did not matter. As long as they kept their spirits high, reliant on the experiences they've shared as strangers and friends banded together, he was sure it would turn out alright.

Despite the situation, the armorsmith couldn't help but snicker slightly under his breath, totally unbecoming of his usual self as he realized that his entire allegory was caused by a single glance in Redsky's direction when he was observing everyone's rise in morale. Maybe her fixation on fire magic had more bearing than he thought. But he digressed. He was thinking too much again, wasting energy he could be saving for the dungeon. Coming to this conclusion, he instead focused said energy on checking his gear, noting the current state of his armor, weaponry, and the current level of his mana pool, the later more of a feeling rather than something he could see. Everything was in good condition, for now, and thankfully his past self had conserved enough energy that his mana felt hardly dented. 

As he finished his check-up, he eventually detected the change of subject, and as he looked up from his sword he caught sight of Graves locking him down with a serious gaze. [color=red]"Orchid! You and 2Chainz watch our midsection. Keep your eyes peeled for any ambushed from above or below,[i] got it this time[/i]?"[/color] As the words reached him from across the room, Ochre returned the Blood Knight's stare with his own, half-lidded one. But beneath his drooped eyelids were hints of understanding and determination, his slow, weighted nod caught by the acting commander before the pikesman turned away. Graves did well in this situation, almost as admirably as Rael, who seemed almost entirely unshaken by the event entirely. If it wasn't for the fact that they were all undoubtedly player characters, he would've believed that the latter [i]wanted[/i] to be stuck in this death game.

With a shake of his head, he shed his thoughts once more, adjusting his breastplate slightly for maximum protection as the group seemed geared up for the continued exploration. That is... until a voice cut through the air like a knife. [color=a187be]"WAIT!..."[/color] Ochre didn't think he could ever note a time that his business partner's voice had been as equally loud and forthright as it had been with that single request for a halt... and as equally filled with such distress. [color=a187be]"This is suicide. We should stay here, by this gate. At least we'll have our backs to the wall. We can create a chokepoint and wait for the GM's to get their shit together. Sure, they can't log us out right now, but..."[/color] By this time, her words had faded into the background for him, merely a cover for what was truly being said. The person he had thought was prepared for whatever came... was just as afraid as the rest of them.

Honestly, despite the shock and fear that came with the administrator's declaration, Ochre had believed that the situation wouldn't have phased the enchanter. Throughout his playthrough of Pariah, Altissima had always been composed and unshakable each time they had met, capable of irritation and frustration when things went wrong, but never to a point of despair. Of course, he should have realized that the difficulties of running a fantasy business were an entirely different plane of field compared to the possibility of death, but before this moment the image of her aloof nature had overidden the signs of her fear. Now, as his mental pedestal of her had been pulled away, he could now see her actions as what they were. Her preparations weren't a sign of bravery, ready for the dangers to come with a stoic duty. They were actions to protect oneself from a world that had changed its meaning within seconds.

But even more surprising than that was to see Graves of all people approach them to console the enchanter. Once again, the social norms he had constructed over each of the members in the party were blindsiding him as they were stripped away by circumstance, leaving him scrambling to reorganize his stances towards each of them. Mentally thanking the Blood Knight for doing what he couldn't, Ochre closed his eyes as a soft, almost inaudible sigh released itself from his lips. There was too much effort being used in comparison to the diminishing returns of his understanding. He was going to have to relearn who everyone truly was before he could spend his time readjusting his ideas of them in his mind.

As his conscious thoughts resurfaced towards the world around him, the armorsmith sluggishly realized that the pikesman had apparently finished his piece, and had moved his attentions from Altissima to him. [color=red]"Orchid. You keep her safe, okay? And she'll do the same for you."[/color] In response, Ochre merely sent him another, resounding nod, almost entirely similar to his agreement to the plan a few seconds before. [color=red]"Now...we can't afford to stand around here too long, or another ambush is bound to come our way. You're going to be alright, Tess, right? You can do this?"[/color] Ochre's helmet creaked slightly as he turned his head towards the woman next to him, his drooped gaze searching her own as he placed a hand on the pommel of his sword, readiness visible underneath the perpetual lethargy in his eyes. [color=orange]"...He's right. Certain death or fight. Can you?"[/color] Unlike the concern clearly audible in Graves' question, his own was masked beneath a layer of professionalism, his inner thoughts pulling his inflections from every business deal the two of them had participated in. It was his subconscious way of trying to calm her down, to give her something recognizable in this harrowing situation, as if this was merely another transaction between them both rather than a task that could lead to their doom. He could only hope it worked.