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In Avalia 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Time: MORNING
Location: INT. MAMA MALACHI'S SUMMERHOUSE - RIVER PORT
Interactions/Mentions: The guy cosplaying as an elf @princess; the other guy who’s also cosplaying as an elf @GingerBobOh
Equipment:





"Jun... Can we talk?"

Jun jerked at the sound of Malachi's voice. With a cautious slowness, he twisted his head to the source. Well, sort of the source. Technically, he was staring straight at Malachi's feet, but that was the best they were getting out of Jun. After all, when facing the armed and dangerous man, any sudden movements might be reason enough for Elrond 2.0 to bust some caps.

"Look… I come unarmed."

Tentatively lifting his line of sight, Jun confirmed that the spray bottle was, in fact, out of Malachi's hands. Still not out of reach, though. If he wanted, Malachi could snatch it back in a heartbeat.

Jun returned his gaze back to the bunny stain on the table, tracing its outline as he waited for Malachi to start talking. An awkward silence stretched between them. Malachi was expecting some kind of response. Jun shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"You can do it!" The blotch bunny, and definitely not Jun talking to himself in a high-pitched voice, cheered. "Even if you embarrass yourself, what's the worst that can possibly happen?"

He can blast me with a real gun and dump my body somewhere, never to be found again.

"Damn, June-bug, that's real messed up! You wanna dial that negativity down just a skosh? Ha-ha!"
The bunny's chipper laugh sounded suspiciously like Mickey Mouse.


Jun heaved a weary sigh and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. It didn't matter whether he dialed it down or cranked it up to the max. As long as these people refused to free him, there was no chance of escape. This could very well be his last chance to persuade them.

The sound of something sliding across the table and a loud "THIS HELPS" startled Jun. He squinted and scanned the blurry surroundings, but without his glasses, his world was just shapeless colors. His hands explored the table's surface until his fingers brushed against a small object. Bringing it close enough to poke his eye out, Jun discovered it to be a piece of candy.

Unable to identify which colorful blur gave him the gift, Jun just nodded his thanks to the space in front of him, then popped the candy into his mouth. The familiar taste of sweet ginger flooded his mouth, conjuring memories of grandma's can of mystery treat assortments. It was always a gamble what you'd pull out of the can. Last time, he got a packet of roasted crickets. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with the sleeves of his shirt. Emboldened by the ginger candy, Jun found his voice at last. "I want to go home."

Silence. "Please let me go." Jun braced himself, fully expecting a torrent of words or water to attack him. When nothing came, he hesitantly continued. "I-if this week proved anything, it's that you need someone to replace me. Someone who can actually do what you want them to do. You know, someone competent and has time to w……………………………………………… adventure?"


From the moment Lady Morrigan swept into the guesthouse, the Alidasht servant found themselves captivated by her presence. The allure of her movements commanded their unwavering attention. Their eyes traced the contours of her body, acutely aware of how her garments artfully accentuated her every asset, as she approached servants who had been present for the Alidasht dinner party. While most didn’t seem to mind talking to her, some eager to engage in gossip, a select few Danrose servants avoided eye contact.

Lady Morrigan bloomed with delight when she spotted a dinner guest. She trotted over to Lord Smithwood and brushed his arm with her fingertips, drawing his attention to her. He, though momentarily taken aback by the Lady’s sudden appearance, soon composed himself into a polite smile.

As members of the aristocracy in the Northern Kingdoms, they exchanged customary pleasantries. Foreign protocols guided the ensuing conversation. Distance between the two nobles and the Alidasht servant muffled their voices, but the occasional melodious laughter that spilled from the Lady traveled through the air easily enough.

However, as the conversation progressed, a subtle shift tugged at the corners of Lady Morrigan’s face, transforming her once-joyful expression into one of grave concern. Suddenly, her hands flew over her mouth, aghast at the Lord’s words. Based on how focused she was on the Lord’s feet, the source of her distress had to do with his shoes. How this, in turn, warranted her profuse apologies, remained an enigma in its own right. Footwear must be serious business in the North.

For the first time since they started talking, a hush fell between them. Lady Morrigan’s eyes fell, her cheeks tinged pink. The servant thought they detected a shimmer of moisture in her eyes. After a solemn reflection, she summoned the strength to lift her gaze and revealed her thoughts, which caught Lord Smithwood off guard once again.

Initially, Lord Smithwood appeared reluctant about what she said. In the end, when the Lady’s face clouded at his response, he relented, either accepting her request or promising to consider it. Whichever the case, her face brightened upon hearing his answer. She clasped his hands and shook them.

With a decision reached, the nobles bid each other farewell. Lady Morrigan, accompanied by her loyal knight, who clung to her like a shadow, drew close enough for the servant to eavesdrop on the latter half of their conversation.

“Are you sure that was wise?” he asked.

“Well, darling, we shall see how much the cub takes after his dear old daddy, won’t we?” she replied with a hint of amusement.

“Besides, as long as she’s breathing when all’s said and done, he can go on ahead and do as he pleases—chop her into pieces, sizzle her over a grill, earn extra coin as her procurer for the rest of the season. Gods knows, it’s none of my concern.”

She spoke her next words with chilling clarity, the cold steel of an executioner’s ax. “Dead men do not suffer… and she still has much to atone for.”
In Avalia 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Time: MORNING
Location: EXT./INT. MAMA MALACHI'S SUMMERHOUSE - RIVER PORT
Interactions/Mentions: The guy cosplaying as an elf @princess; the lady in a purple dress @Tae; the golden lion furry @Helo; the other guy who’s also cosplaying as an elf @GingerBobOh
Equipment:







Eyes, being the window to the soul and all, were a constant challenge for Jun. His weak soul made every gaze feel like staring into the scorching sun. Anger, disappointment, or shame transformed the sunrays into sharp chisels, chipping away at his spirit.

Encountering those kinds of gazes wasn't new. Malachi never missed a chance to shoot him a look filled with some flavor of anger or disappointment. Now, the purple-dressed stranger mirrored that all-too-familiar glint.

She hid it well under that smile, but that's what most socially competent people did, wasn't it? Tolerate people like Jun.

They all tolerated him because they needed a human for the story campaign. LARPing was supposed to be escapism. Why would anyone want to be a vanilla human, when that only reminded players of reality? And here was this damn idiot ruining their fun. Why can't he just play along? Inconsiderate ass. What a waste of space, a waste of time. Useless, even in a world of make-believe. Pathetic.

The surrounding conversation buried the whispered, "... I'm sorry."

A cancerous ball, the size of a marble, lodged somewhere between his heart and throat, began to spread. His breathing picked up speed as his body made a head start to that dark place where his mind always went.

"I'm sorry." He should've listed what he was apologizing for, but he could barely squeeze out two simple words before he rushed back into the house. He didn't even dare look at Zion or Enstille, too afraid to see what he might find reflected in their eyes.

When he reached the dining table, Jun was wheezing like he completed a marathon as an asthmatic. He slumped into the chair at the farthest end, clutching his backpack against his chest as negative thoughts continued their invasion.

Such a drama queen. It's not that big of a deal. Come on dude, man up. What kind of adult couldn't handle a little eye contact? There are people out there who dealt with a lot worse than you ever have or ever will. Get over it. Why does it always end up being about you? Snowflake. Stop wallowing in your own self-pity. People don’t have time for your fragile ego and your constant need for reassurance. You're such a disappointment. So worthless. You know they don't actually need you, specifically, right? You're replaceable. Nobody will miss you when you're gone. Not here, not back home. They probably haven't noticed you've been missing the entire week—...

A violent clatter jerked Jun out of the quicksand. The wind hammered against the window, demanding entry. He held his breath. When nothing else happened, he exhaled sharply, releasing the pent-up tension, and inhaled deeply, surrendering to his body's need for oxygen. The sensation of his lungs expanding and contracting grounded him.

As his breathing settled into a steady rhythm, Jun's attention drifted from the window and landed on a bunny-shaped stain on the table. He chose the cute blotch as his point of focus.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. With each breath, the window-rattling and invasive voices quieted down, until both faded into silence.

Lost in his task, Jun remained oblivious to the fact that the wind knocked only the window nearest to him—while all others stood silent.



◆◆◆◆◆ "△△△" ◆◆◆◆◆◆
Time:Evening
Location: Sorian Park
Interaction(s): Lukas Larsen/Sir Mathias Larsen/Lady Zarai Lesdeman @Rodiak; Dr. John James Williamson @Conscripts

A deep rumbling emanated from the dragon’s throat, building in intensity until it erupted into a malicious laugh. “Fool! You dare order me, a mighty dragon? Our kind will never submit to a puny human.” His massive maw revealed rows of razor-sharp teeth that glistened in what little light the night provided. “Your words shan’t stop me from executing my diabolical plans!”

“After I rid myself of the bothersome Grand Healer and your father,” △△△ gave both Dr. Williamson and Mathias a wink as he unveiled his nefarious scheme, “I shall snatch your beloved prince and princess away. Condemn them to a life full of daily vegetables, with extra servings of onions and broccoli, and boring studies!” The horror of a nutritionally balanced diet and proper education drained the color from the knight’s face. “And you’ll be utterly powerless to intervene!”

“Long have I slumbered, biding my time, gathering my strength, and now the hour of reckoning has arrived!” With a majestic sweep of his massive wings, the dragon loomed over the knight, casting a foreboding shadow that enveloped him. “So revel in the spectacle, humans, as I lay waste to your kingdom. Bear witness to the chaos I bring, and tremble in the face of true power!”

The air was punctuated by the dragon’s laughter—an unhinged, maniacal cacophony that heralded suffering and brought promises of ruin.

But as his eyes fell upon the knight’s sword, his mirth came to an abrupt halt. “That sword… It cannot be! That sword was shattered and scattered to oblivion! How is it here!?” Disbelief widened the dragon’s eyes. “Unless… you’re the fabled hero of prophecy.”

“... No,” the dragon’s initial shock gave way to a renewed resolve. “You may wield the sword, but you will never defeat me! Prepare to meet your end, human!” On cue, Lukas lunged forward, his wooden sword aimed at △△△.

As the warm breeze tousled their hair and peals of laughter mingled with the night air, the pair danced around the picnic blanket that doubled as a battlefield. Lukas swung his sword valiantly at the scales of the dragon, doing his best to dart away from the deadly tickles which rendered him a squealing mess. △△△, in turn, roared with mock fury, swiping his claws inches from the knight’s armor or countering incoming attacks. Their make-believe skirmish was both playful and earnest.

In the heat of the battle, the knight’s muscles strained as he delivered a powerful and decisive blow. The legendary blade struck the dragon’s midsection, its razor-sharp edge cutting through scales and sinew, causing the monstrous creature to stagger back from the force of the impact. △△△ exaggeratedly clutched his injured side, grimacing. He slowly withdrew his claws from the gaping wound and stared down at the lifeblood coating it. “Impossible,” he uttered. The triumphant boy stood tall, his chest puffed out with pride.

Gagging for dear life, △△△ collapsed dramatically into the nearest mound of plush pillows. There, amidst the feathery comfort, the mighty dragon lay motionless; its reign of terror ended… at least for now.

Behind lidded eyes, △△△ waited for the jubilant cheers of victory to subside and the little knight’s excited voice to recede into the distance before cracking one eye open. “Is he gone?” he asked Luz sitting next to him.

He opened both eyes to look up at her. A constellation of nerine flowers, the very ones he gifted her, adorned her flowing locks. A tender warmth spread across his chest at the sight of them. “You’re still wearing these? I thought the Princes’ Court ended.” His fingertips gravitated toward the petals, “I’m glad you like them so much,” then something beneath her expression arrested his hand in its pursuit. “Please tell me the reason why you’re looking so bummed out is because all the royal children want to marry you and you can’t decide which ones you’ll have to turn down?”
◆◆◆◆ "△△△" ◆◆◆◆◆◆
Time:Evening
Location: Sorian Park
Interaction(s): Major General Lyra Carris @Blizz; Dr. John James Williamson @Conscripts; Lord Roman Ravenwood @ReusableSword; Lady Violet Damien @Tpartywithzombi; Sir Mathias Larsen/Lukas Larsen/Ms. Mary @Rodiak

A peculiar sensation tugged at the very essence of △△△’s being as his gaze collided with the woman with striking crimson eyes. At first, she paid him little mind, her attention consumed by Lady Damien, relegating △△△ to the periphery of her awareness. He would have remained an inconsequential figure had her focus not momentarily shifted.

Indifference dissolved into a dawning realization. Recognition danced with emotions he struggled to decipher in the depths of those red eyes. Though, it could have been a figment of his imagination. After all, he could not recall ever encountering this woman before. No matter how deep his mind groped for memories, he found no traces of her. Yet, there was an undeniable familiarity in the way she regarded him.

When △△△ failed to mirror her expression, the woman’s eyes burrowed deeper into him, searching, questioning.

On any other day, he would have offered a proper introduction to dispel any uncertainties. Unfortunately, since this was the one thing △△△ could not do without someone’s aid, he had no choice but to substitute the introduction with a friendly smile and a graceful bow.

"Oh yeah, now that we're both here, Lord Ravenwood. Is it alright if I can see you later tonight? There's something I want to discuss with you."

Dr. Williamson’s words drew △△△’s attention. The good doctor appeared markedly less inclined to conceal his suspicions of △△△, a departure from the guarded countenance he had worn during their last conversation at the Vikena Estate. Given the circumstances, △△△ understood his apprehension.

“What a coincidence! I too have something I wish to discuss with you, Lord Ravenwood. Could you spare me a moment of your time later as well? But for now…” He faced both Lord Ravenwood and Lady Damien. “Enjoy your time together.” △△△’s voice dropped a few octaves as he placed his hand over his heart. “Truly.”

Leaving the two nobles, the count trailed behind Dr. Williamson, ever mindful of his steps or breaching the bounds of the doctor’s line of sight. △△△ positioned himself in the man's shadow, then waved at the onlookers who noticed him. A finger pressed against his lips, silently asking them not to alert Dr. Williamson of his presence.

While the adults graciously complied, young Lukas bubbled with irrepressible giddiness. His smile spanned from one ear to the other, glee sparkled in his eyes. The boy’s restless form betrayed his eagerness to pounce △△△ as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
Ríoghnach "Riona"
Time: 6PM
Location: Guest House Dining Room
Interaction(s): Mayet @13org; Leo @Helo; Charlotte & Raif @princess

Tension-laden seconds inched forward with an excruciating sluggishness. Riona found herself trapped in an anxious limbo, waiting for the pivotal juncture when the Shehzadi would expose her as Reohg Knock. To her great relief, those seconds glided past without incident, releasing her from the grip of anxiety that held her captive.

"You are... different from these people, aren't you? Not only the other servants, but the Caesonian nobles as well."

Was she? Riona’s gaze swept across the room, taking in each servant and Caesonian nobility until her eyes finally came to rest on Prince Auguste. The answer came to her effortlessly. “Hardly.” She murmured, “Sometimes I wish I was… then things might have played out differently.” She was as guilty as they were, and she knew her excuses of powerlessness and inopportune timing only went so far.

"Don't hesitate in approaching me in case you need something or want to tell me something."

When Shehzadi Mayet broached the idea of accompanying her back to Alidasht, Riona brushed it off as a passing fancy. It sounded like the sort of proposition people tossed around without thinking, much like the one Shahzade Munir made about sending his personal clothier to her. Such fleeting remarks were sparked by the thrill of finding something shiny new, only to be dropped and forgotten once the novelty lost its luster. For some reason, this time, Riona was still shiny enough for this Shehzadi to be willing to meet the maid outside of work.

"...in case you need something..." SNAP!

“Young miss,” the Sultan said, “Please make sure Lord Smithwood gets something to drink and feel free to help yourself to some as well.”

The maid dipped her head and pivoted on her heel. “Your tutelage,” she breathed, her voice a whisper that brushed against the air surrounding Shehzadi Mayet.

The cup placed in front of the Varian Lordling barely held enough beverage to moisten a parched throat. Nevertheless, Riona had given the man a drink as the Sultan requested. “Should you desire more,” she stared down at him with her dark eyes, “all you need to do is ask, milord.” She only broke eye contact because the jolt from his neighbor forced her to redirect her attention.

Lady Charlotte sprang upright from her seat, on the verge of tears and ready to run out the doors. Lost in her distress, she didn’t realize that Riona could hear her say, "...I'm uncertain if I can endure this... Should I excuse myself momentarily or would that make it worse?"

Visions of the ebony-haired child crying in a dim room, far away from the adults, flashed across her mind. His body convulsed uncontrollably while he swallowed his sobs, desperate to remain unheard. Ríoghnach’s tiny hands rubbed his trembling back as she told him what her parents told her. “It’s okay to run to fight another day.” Riona didn’t realize she spoke aloud as she knelt down to press a handkerchief into Lady Charlotte’s hands. “A tactical retreat holds merit, My Lady.”

She performed a slight bow and stepped back just in time to catch a glimpse of Shehzadi Layla’s facial expression. Riona frowned in thought, her fingers rubbing the brooch adorning her neck. She then resumed her retreat to the sequestered corner, where the rest of the servants huddled together.

After dumping an assortment of random ingredients available into a tinted bottle, Riona gave it a good shake. For extra measure, she labeled it so that it wouldn’t get mixed up with any other bottle. Satisfied with her clandestine creation, the maid faced her fellow servants. “If Lord Smithwood doesn’t say ‘please’ when he orders refreshments, serve him this, will you?” The servants gave her puzzled looks. “It’s code.” Riona said, which elicited a chorus of whispered ahhs and nods of understanding.

“If he complains, just say it was me. I sometimes forget what the secret word and drink of the day are.”
In Avalia 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Time: MORNING
Location: INT./EXT. MAMA MALACHI'S SUMMERHOUSE - RIVER PORT
Interactions/Mentions: The other guy who’s also cosplaying as an elf @GingerBobOh; The guy cosplaying as an elf @princess; The lady in a purple dress @Tae
Equipment:





As Jun sat there on the floor, blinking, his brain struggled to make sense of what had just happened. But before he could fully process it, Jun vaulted up to his feet with a beaming smile. "Holy cow, Enstille!" He exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement and wonder. "How'd you do that?"

Without waiting for an answer, he grasped the magician's slender hands and flipped them over and over. Finding nothing that could've activated the magic trick, Jun nudged Enstille a few steps to the side. He tapped the floorboards with his feet, wondering if one of them was secretly a floor switch.

He raised his gaze, and his eyes darted about the space, scanning for the stage light that blinded him. But he abandoned the search in favor of finding the hidden mechanism that had encased him in a sphere. He couldn't find it, obviously. Every gimmick and gadget required for the illusion was seamlessly integrated into the environment. The sheer ingenuity of the design of it all blew Jun away.

Jun was inspecting the floors up close when a sudden sense of impending doom ran down his spine, sending shivers throughout his entire body.

It wasn't until he heard a spray bottle being refilled with fresh ammunition that he understood the source of his unease. Shoot! Jun scrambled for the entrance, never daring to look back. The doorknob rattled as he tried (and failed) to open the very locked door. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!

"Where do you think you're going?" Malachi's voice, sharp and cold, felt like a knife pressed against Jun's back. His heart stopped beating, and a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. The other man's footsteps jolted Jun into action. He frantically jiggled the door handle, pulling and pushing with all his might. By the time the one brain cell reminded the rest of the brain that doors don't open if they're locked, it was already too late.

As the door swung open, the first shot found its mark, striking the back of Jun's head. Ice-cold water soaked his hair and ran down his neck. He yelped in surprise and stumbled out of the house, barely registering the woman in the flowing purple dress standing in his path in time. Without thinking, Jun twisted his body to dodge her. While that achieved the desired result, he collided with the basket she held instead, sending its contents flying in all directions.

Despite his best efforts to regain balance, Jun's legs became tangled, causing him to crash to the ground under the force of gravity. The merciless onslaught of water spraying followed soon after.


Ríoghnach "Riona"
Time: 6PM
Location: Guest House Dining Room
Interaction(s): Mayet & Nala @13org; Auguste @Inertia; Munir @Infinite Cosmos; Lorenzo @FunnyGuy; Charlotte, Hafiz, & Raif @princess; Layla @Potter; Nahir @Rodiak; Farim@Lava Alckon; Ariella @Tpartywithzombi

Riona blended into the dining room walls, her back straight, her face a mask of practiced neutrality. Beneath the surface, however, her nerves were on edge. Every time Shehzadi Mayet or Prince Auguste directed any amount of attention to her, her heart hammered against her chest like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. When she thought there wouldn’t be more reason to be anxious, Shahzade Munir swaggered into the room. She could have sworn her heart jumped out of her mouth.

Thankfully, Riona’s intuition proved correct; the Shahzade appeared to have forgotten all about the maid after their brief encounter on the dance floor. He breezed past her without a second glance, claiming a seat between the Sultan and the Prince. With a measured exhale, Riona allowed herself a quiet breath of relief.

Maybe, just maybe, she would make it through the evening unscathed. But her hope was short-lived. Duke Lorenzo “stole” Grand Vizier Hafiz’s seat at the head of the table. Riona braced herself for the inevitable trouble that would follow. At the very least, she took solace in the fact that any attempts to shift the blame onto the servants for this debacle would need some impressive mental gymnastics.

Riona watched the Duke and Grand Vizier exchange barbs and jibes at each other across the table with mixed fascination and frustration. Where had this version of the Duke been hiding all along, and what was he doing here bickering with Alidasht royalty instead of confronting the real enemies at his doorstep?

While the other dinner attendees did their best to calm the situation, Riona turned to a nearby servant and whispered a few words. The servant nodded and hurried off to gather the items she requested.

As the first course was being brought in, Riona discreetly slid drinks onto the table, positioning them within easy reach of the attendees’ drinking hands. It went against proper Northern Kingdom dining etiquette, but this wasn’t a Caesonian dinner or a typical Alidasht dinner either. It was why, after serving the Alidasht guests their drinks, she changed plans and provided the Caesonians different refreshments, hoping to ease some of the tension building up.

Lady Ariella’s polite smile was delicate as a lace doily, too thin to hide her discomfort. Riona’s heart went out to the poor woman. She looked like she could use a stiff drink to dull the razor-sharp edge of the awkwardness that permeated the room. Though Riona was no expert in the art of fancy cocktail making, she knew that mixing vodka with vermouth was a solid option. She presented the concoction to Lady Ariella with a reassuring smile before moving on.

She didn’t need to ask what Prince Auguste wanted. She knew his preferences like the back of her hand, having served the Danrose family for years. Riona poured him his usual brand of light wine he drank at least once during dinner. As soon as her fingers released the crystal goblet, the maid retreated with a quick, almost imperceptible bow. She knew better than to linger and risk any unnecessary contact or conversation.

Crimson liquid sloshed in the decanter, allowing the vintage Riona’s father claimed paired perfectly with Alidasht cuisine to breathe before filling Lady Charlotte’s cup. Although it wasn’t her responsibility, Riona didn’t want the Vikenas leaving this dinner with a bad impression of Alidasht, compelled to honor her grandmother’s cherished memory of the land. If Lady Charlotte couldn’t enjoy the company of its people, at least she could leave knowing its food was good.

Riona advanced towards Duke Lorenzo with the decanter. However, as she drew closer, her steps slowed and eventually stilled. She gave the older man a critical appraisal, then retraced her steps to retrieve a jug of water. The sound of water cascading into the cup hid words meant for the Duke’s ears alone, “Is there a reason you cannot be as bold as this with Edin or Calbert, Your Grace?” Setting the glass down, she continued in a hushed tone, “They would not trample over you as much if they knew you could bite,” before blending back into the background.

For the last guest, Riona poured the rest of the water into a bowl. She approached Shehzadi Mayet and dipped her head. With a fluid motion, the maid bent down and placed the bowl beside Nala, who was lying at the Shehzadi’s feet. She wasn’t sure of the tiger’s appetite or preference, but she also offered a piece of meat. Riona felt that the patient companion deserved a reward for putting up with all this human nonsense.

As she rose, Riona mentally patted herself on the back for taking care of all the dinner attendees with quick efficiency.

The Varian?

He had plenty of air to drink around him: he didn’t need her to serve him anything.
In Avalia 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Time: MORNING
Location: INT. MAMA MALACHI'S SUMMERHOUSE - RIVER PORT
Interactions: N/A
Mentions: The guy cosplaying as an elf @princess; the golden lion furry@Helo
Equipment:







Jun gingerly tucked the letter into an envelope and slid it into his backpack, making sure it was nestled safely amongst his array of useless belongings: electronics that he kept turned off to save what little battery life they had left, a pair of headphones now reduced to mere earmuffs, a wallet containing cards and money that were about as useful as Monopoly money in Avalia, and a key that might as well have unlocked a door on the moon. Even the cursed plastic bag that had nearly suffocated Jun to death and caused him to fall down the stairs found its way into the backpack. He should throw the bag away. He really should, but he couldn't bring himself to do that.

He wasn't going to leave anything behind, not a single thing. They were a symbol of his old life, a reminder of who he really was, and he needed that reminder now more than ever. He had to keep himself anchored to reality, and that meant not getting lost in this fantasy like the LARPers who were fully immersed in the roleplay. Hopefully, these items would be enough to keep him grounded until he could find a way back home.

Jun twisted the doorknob and cracked the bedroom door open just enough to peek through the narrow gap. The hallway was empty. He breathed a small sigh of relief and eased the door open a little further.

The hinges let out a soft creak. Jun winced and froze, holding his breath as he listened intently for any signs of movement. After a few tense seconds, he exhaled slowly and continued to push the door open, one inch at a time.

He slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as possible behind him. His heart raced as he tiptoed down the hallway, eyes darting back and forth. Every creak of the floorboards seemed to echo through the house. But Jun pressed on, determined to escape.

Just as the exit loomed into view, Malachi's morning call echoed through the halls. The water-spraying man was clearly in a foul mood, a sharp contrast to Zion's irrepressible energy that made the whole house tremble with excitement for breakfast. The giant furry's hollering overpowered Jun's hurried footsteps toward the door that stood between him and his freedom.
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