[OOC: Get spoiled nerds, I'm not inactive. o:]


As an Iceberg, Vice usually likes to roam and slowly wear down his cold patience. Embracing a silent nature, the equally cold Astera weather today doesn't bother Vice's sort. Spreading his subdued anxieties and pleasant evils is what seems like a last-ditch effort of a bygone era. Real-bred Vikings and the like haven't ever been something Vice has looked up to, yet he does consider his past familial attachments while resting in place. The unpredictable sea and sparkling nights are remembered more fondly by Vice than his land dealings. Part of why Vice had joined Blue Pegasus wasn't for protection, as he simply enjoyed dunking his pony ass into a more fitting scenic beach environment. Dirtying his butt resting on a wall, Vice takes glances out toward the sea-line while shining away his renewed interests. Running along from all sorts of land trouble, Vice has always found himself negatively late to the interesting sights, so he likes to record some for himself.

Keeping his eyes up internally, Vice has begun to manifest lucid ideals in his routine, and he blinks calmly toward the day's sunlight. Trading his interest into daily squabbles, Vice likes to think that the moon's hidden camera will show up unannounced. An accompanying star and foil is always most pleasant to carve out activities. Procrastinating and rummaging through a dark brown package doesn't ease Vice's boredom. Targets dotting the sky's dark board could invite a more playful engagement from Vice. Feeling busy hasn't shaken up the recording, but Vice sits casually progressing toward acceptable stillness, as he awaits at an Astera pier. Waves cradle the quaint little area and a cheap drink in Vice's packaged embrace has settled down. Carrying the show doesn't mean Vice expects one. Blankly watching a routine, Vice realizes his boat will be ready soon as his companions sort out the final administrative work at a nearby papered platform.

(300+)

Timing and untiming keep people satisfied. Minor expectations temper the restless other-expectations throughout long days. Controlling some minor expectations, Vice is just looking out for some interference in grand schemes. Occupying oneself with the same deeds are the best for consistency and sanity. Consciously anticipating nightly pleasures, the moon has stamped itself inside Vice's dealings. Passively staring still, paranoia creeps into Vice while he and some sailors begin to feel uncomfortable. Having worn his welcome, Vice hadn't busied himself to help out with any preparations for the journey to the sea, as he partly wished some troubles could brew around him before the night. An off-putting budget black suit is on Vice's body, somewhat rich jewel accumulation not needing to be invested in what will soon be destroyed. Judging the rightful moment and signature isn't Vice's forte. Relying on others can grow tiresome for Vice, but he feels like chaotically drawing a show is what helps create one.

Outwardly, Vice doesn't enjoy showing preparation, as he doesn't need a recording for his pleasant surprises. The day creeps toward a conclusion, whatever it might be. Understanding most things as routine has helped ground Vice's desires. Nighttime fighting is what will draw Vice's engaged focus, although he still contains his full equipped assortment under his suit. Playfulness is a common theme of Vice's, with seriousness occurring only when a task is scheduled, pushing him to rather the moon's glow accompany him. Days aren't suited for drawing a canvas for the moon's glow. Most great surprises require build-up and bumping into a light in a long darkness. Boarding a random boat for a short journey, Vice takes in the idle surroundings by vacant internalized necessity. Nothing sticks out on the boat, although it has a dark exterior with sparkling stars as it's design.

(300+)

Chance and fear has brought people to avoid the night but seek it's falseness in sunlight. Having grabbed a companion for his joyride, there's a light-haired civilian who has a creepy face nearby to Vice.  Creepiness is subjective, for Vice purposely dragged along someone who seemed willing and to make Vice inconspicuous. Being uncomfortable can often be misconstrued as creepy. An eerie ugly painting that shouldn't be around during night hours and an unkempt baggage are similar. Muddying the waters, it's not a crime to have insane people follow someone like Vice around. The person is uncomfortable and has rough clothing, but Vice hasn't forced anyone to come enjoy the ocean with him. Everybody looks out for their fun tasks and unfortunate events aren't Vice's fun responsibility. Keeping to himself, the non-sailor dressed as if he's homeless appears to be lacking any interest in a fun outing. Resigned to what he goes forward for, the hobo doesn't obtain another glance from Vice. Sharing a mindset is caring, taking his eyes away on the deck in general, Vice doesn't care about the fate of standing dolls. Time creeps toward the night without much change to what feels like a short oceanic vacation for the Iceberg.

"Hello, what's over there?" Breaking silence by faking a loud surprised enthusiasm, Vice stomps his feet in childish protest. Initiating conversation is Vice's interest when it concerns lusting for provocation. A bored musical rhythm forces Vice's presence as he eventually comes to an abrupt stop with the boat. With Vice having acquired a passable deafening strength, flying pink colors adorn an unharmed normal sailor's face now next to Vice.

"What do you mean?" Confused with seeing nothing on the seas, the sailor instead looked at the dent in the boat created by Vice who has now silenced himself. Ticking time bomb passengers like Vice aren't what the sailor crew signed up for.

(300+)

While the other passengers dot the sides of the boat, the captain approached by Vice already has an inkling that he picked up a shaky anchor of evil. Stone-faced, an accessory of human flesh in the invited hobo seems to have accepted the abrupt stop on the sea. Buffing oneself is a necessity rather than a focus of Vice's, and he doesn't look to advertise any useless accumulation to guests. Some people don't have any strength and Vice doesn't mind finding use in their mindset to a point. The captain doesn't want to deal with the guy that can stomp a hole in a sailor's face, yet Vice pursues forward closer.

"An endless appetite and accumulation with nothing to show for it." Resting his tone, Vice hates to best only minor inconveniences. The boat tips over and Vice accepts friendliness only from the accompanying stars or moon. It's hard to believe in something one intrinsically can't see, maybe Vice can't save these people from an unknown threat even if he somehow signaled a sudden monster to come with protagonist presence. Equipped with invisible-seeing glasses, Vice is able to fully enjoy the view of almost all his companions getting eaten by a dark water body.

Burping satisfied but now lying on ship shards, still relying on others for travel, Vice hasn't intended on any positive outings. Chaotic waves shook this abandoned ship that crept toward a darker destination. Shaded by some unknown force, the night and reflecting moon begins to welcome Vice away from the forces of normality. The ship broke, unrelated to Vice for an investigation pending to him could be displeasurable, and Vice is left alone with a surviving doll. Playing with non-aspired non-mage dolls breaks the routines of Vice away from liveliness. Unfortunately, trapped at sea, Vice uses his lawful right to kick away the sailor so only Vice may survive.

(300+)

Flight mana is a precious resource and the shining moonlight emboldens Vice to take care in valuing each moment. The classic dilemma of every man for himself has been tried in magical court with success, and Vice totally didn't plan today's events anyhow.

Magical protagonists find themselves lost in what to do next while the next waves come to them. Carelessness is proven rightful by freedom. Freeing himself from caring, Vice enjoys the moon's ever-dominate scenery while waiting for a magical monster to come passing by to eat him too. Relatively lucky, Vice was avoided for the first meal not only off innate bestial intellect. Some self-proclaimed monsters have monopolized the ability to sense mana, yet Vice enjoys his Void Magic more. Having not tested capabilities much, surprises usually come when Vice can't steal mana from others who are non-protagonists. Judgement sparkles on to their being just for as many illogically irrelevant people as there are skies in the stars. Vice can't help but feel special when he can sort out those that are different to the commoners. Animals and test subjects to the recording moon's will often seem to possess mana that can be evaporated into the restless waters.

Finding Nemos can take a while, as can draining mana, but many magical effects are annoyingly inevitable. Turbulence is unpredictable and fun until it doesn't stop, which is the case for Vice as he lays stranded at sea. Many things fall outside of people's control and that thought provokes people into idealisms. The most ideal state is the ability to endure. All Vice wanted to accomplish was to play with the right-fishie, rather than feeding on scraps of who-knows what kind of flesh. Accidents and tasteful discoveries always fall outside the ideal, yet Vice finds solace in having liked the accidents to hit the innocents first. No opportunities for retrospection means a seed has contented itself inside the weeds. Fighting and gasping, Vice eventually dives on to a hidden monster-fishie passing by.

(300+)

Revenge on a prior fishie is an unnecessary dream that can be recorded with a pretty moon another night. Strong weeds don't know they're stepped on to until the existential dread of vacancy creeps to attack. Excuses of inference make many people and beings lower their guard.

Thinking back while jumping on to his mount, if the sailors were useful Vice had considered using them as bait, but tested strikes for mana-seeking monsters don't prove that possible. Of course, Vice laid the last sailor to rest as peacefully as possible to honor the memory of their usefulness. The hostage is a symbol of ridicule, but Vice is still present alone, and the new dark sea monster that starts to detect Vice deems him as play. Solidified hopes can inch toward becoming nightly delusions. Aquatic misadventures aren't thought about much for fighting as people don't want to explore outside their depths, they feel they need to merge a disfigured box to a simpler beauty. No unnatural force has entered the sea, Vice has always just been hunting the gifts of his moonlit journey.

The waves of chance eventually bring Vice off of his aquatic companion without much fuss. Dirtily strangling a soon-forgotten helper is a common necessity to survive. Rummaging through the now-beached remains, Vice has turned his back to the accompanying waves. The moon can choose who to hunt with it's follies, and Vice has chosen to hunt it's challenges. Stealing his boat food from before brings Vice to wash his thoughts away, with his still-prepared drink too, having it still prepped for the now-long voyage. Perhaps hurling a bit in tired confusion, tasteless seafood dominates the probing feelings of Vice before he determines who's out for him. Accompanied by his death-defying Ryuk, eyesight isn't diverted to the equally tasteless creature that erupts from the beach's surface.

(300+)

"Start faking now." Commanding with Vice's fake-gasp and accepting a shift in the night's darkness brings the Ryuk to tower menacingly around Vice's figurine. Acceptable uses of the Ryuk to fight aren't that diverse. Most people can ignore Ryuk, like Vice chooses to, as he prefers his previous pet. Ah, thinking of the moon, it looks as cute to Vice as the Eru once was. Lunar obssessions brand people lunatics and Vice is fine with already being one safely. Taking his eyes off of his spoiled monster-whale, playing with a washed-up outfit and fake-shivering begins a brief wait on the lunar island.

The equipment Vice carries isn't that valuable to him, and unnaturally falling the weighted items at the side helps the combat-readiness of Vice at this landing site. Not taking his rest for granted, Vice acknowledges that enemies might be lying in wait in the endless darkness outside the beach. Void Magic is useful, yet Vice's only detection method is a lamp-swiping spell, opting to use Ryuk to confuse his enemies isn't a relied-upon ploy for long. Vice's simple moony-themed glasses beckon invisible-reliant creatures which can be dealt with. A testing shot of a spell flashes on to Vice's body, but his paranoia of discarding weights moves him to sidestep evade away from the dead whale monster-thing, with enough haste that normal spells aren't much of a threat.

A gut feeling had begun to bubble up in Vice's still-wet clothes. Guttural groans and announcements of dominance aren't as niche as they should be. From the cloaked forestry that blows open, the moon reflects some primal Saiyan Mink thingies that are overall loud evil furries. Some fluffiness is good to Vice, other times it becomes everywhere like an infestation. Cold, hungry, and greediness makes it easy for Vice to welcome some furryness tonight. The enemies rush first toward the beached whale-thing and ravishly consume whaley contents including the hobo. Blinking, Vice's Berserkerness cools down momentarily in an exchange.

(300+)

Seeing no current evil anyway, it's easy for Vice's morals to turn a blind eye to what's already gone. Forcing himself to keep focused on an undetermined number of fluffy folk, Vice doesn't have much of an idea for leaving and going forward. Answering his sometimes-touchy maliciousness is some sparkles of the moon shining down in a circle on the beach. Revealing the patch of sand, similar-looking shiny hobos without arms now circle a demonic being. If Vice had to be honest, even his Ryuk looks cooler, and the darkness will soon answer Vice's slight.

Smothering darkness cloaks the temporarily revealed area, and the absence of positivity pokes it's head elsewhere on the beach. Washed up sailor bodies without heads, but with globey-suits Vice guesses?, appear "praying". Well, Vice also guesses sailors are astronauts in a way like space pirates, must be there's short-supply with all those quests that cull pirates. Wanting to laugh but suppressing it, it feels like Vice should be leaving soon. The special quest line isn't as special when Vice is satisfied with his drainy magic, lunar magics are more threatening but are still boring. Tossing his Ryuk toward the major enemy, Vice has high expectations that the opposing demon can confuse itself to death, and hopefully make Ryuk an inheritor or something.

Focusing on the only living beings present, hostility begins to cloud the air. Breathing in a familiar night, circumstance doesn't seem as random and as scary with the moon always-present. Retreating to the gracious sea, Vice feigns his start to the battle as a mob of opposition begins to enter the nest. Most dirtiness that seeks to stain the mage will find it's force washed away from the whims of the collective tides. Unholy contributions to the tide are punished, combos of primitive thinking and lacking spirit faltering against the beginning of Vice's defense.

(300+)

No one has any interesting magic, rather the numbers drown out Vice's night. Swipes from his hands meet comparatively weak claws, and Vice camps the beach area while killing even the most kawaii of furry. Some innocence has been drawn into the fray of animals, yet Vice has determined himself the most innocent of all, and will make the most of the toys that have been thrown in. Powerful entities draw the friendship of people's ideas to make the most of their position and Vice doesn't want to be pulled into whatever cult is active.

Undying ancient fantasies don't push Vice forward to too many repetitive echoes. Digging to the heavens, dirt stains his enemies even more in the dark night while Vice holds his ground swinging his limbs frantically. Having to stumble against a wave of bones, the only clean feature within Vice's sight seems to be the moon. Shiny refined already-determined corpses walk toward Vice, with their flesh being unrecognizable from Vice's beatings or falling to their fate. Hallucinating or provoked, something appears to make Vice think that the moon is coming closer to the island to overtake an ocean of bones. A darkening eclipse is as special as Vice's tiredness perhaps, or that Zorc hugging Ryuk at the side is just that powerful.

Stealing and slowing desires can undermine them, yet Vice doesn't need to live in past moments. Smashing moons is a cool idea tho and Medaka's best comic. Yin feelings bubble up in Vice as he becomes accepting of the moony night's arrangement among many pieces of land. Illumin and magical witches can only be jelly of the oneshot power of critique to Vice's frustrations being overrun. Brightness overtakes the harsh reality of the moon's demise in the eyes of those aspired to the night's grace. An equal fate can be measured out for anyone. Snorkeling and drowning toward the sea, Vice had mixed up his playtime with harsh reality.

(300+)

Attaching oneself to the unreliable (like that smelly Ryuk) can bring unworthy results up to the figurine measured against. Vice has no attachment to any guildmates lost in boredom, them lost in finding what's next to progress, and happiness going forward begins to cloud Vice's optimism. Interference to this island's cultiness doesn't seem thought-out as much as the moon's determined force. Working up the sky's ladder just to farm and abandon isn't nice, Vice has always considered himself an employee of good Flying Pegasus. Jumbling his thoughts, Vice can't help himself. Fearing the dark is important when waiting for the sun, worshipping the quiet waiting moon should be Vice's focus if he lives to tell his tales.

Grabbing some tails tirelessly, Vice swings some furries around. Breaking limbs with blunt simple shoves, the only entertainment to be found at this point is to see if some of the broken-limbed furries enjoy drowning as much as Vice. Reflecting DEEPLY once more, Vice figures there's thousands of better possibilities to be had, yet mooniness has presented this one outcome. Associated somewhat with each Saint, Vice has met greatly kawaii people, and now many dozens of kawaii furries. A mount could have made things easier for Vice if he was in a hurry, yet it could have betrayed him and died too.

Blowing up some Yoshi-headed fuckers, Vice might really want a cool whale mount to run away, he should go fishing since Hargeon didn't have one. Ah, Vice wishes there was a viable way to control animals. Weirdly, Vice is getting weaker before his adventures, so he'll explore alternatives, rather than being forced to be weak. Daggers for attacking are just edgy boring, compiled steps of power are more important than 1 gimmick. Doing an inventory of himself, Vice feels like extending weapon range is useless with that helmet. At least the shiny grounding helmet reflects the ever-merciful moon.

(300+)

Lucky rolls have found Vice before to bring him here, but debt comes collecting sooner or later, on the other hand others never are satisfied anyway. Rampaging is always peaceful with Vice but with focused dying gasps. Clawing an animal humanoid's head, Vice tosses it aside as he opens a path toward the beginning. The whale-monster thingie was grouped up with some furries, yet Vice somehow reaches it with a burst of speed. A soundless haste becomes the essence of Vice's breaking of a veil. Minor advantages are wins nonetheless. Feeling the darkness retreating from a new power or sunlight, Vice pushes his luck with finishing up the night. Void Magic is the protagonist finder if Vice can't steal mana from NPC, so he has eventually found himself out of trouble in the past. Training the bestial taunts or turning himself to boring foreign species hasn't been needed.

Undesirable final gasps are heard at the corner of Vice's vision. An unexpected guest hobo pops up, now suited as a Demon Robot of some sort. Unresigned to Vice being let go, the robot approaches Vice with a fiercely renewed energy. Maybe the hobo installed a new graphics card too like Vice, it still can't see well though. Kicking away the red-haired kawaii robot, a comical splash engulfs Vice and his surroundings. Everything seems to short-circuit with the robot's demise, some people wake up bright-eyed at being marginalized, and still can't allow others their small fortunes in the night.

Washed over in preferred caked blood, Vice remembers that Astera's cheap cake is awaiting him. With the beach having temporary light, a barrier of white moon-themed tentacles had obstructed Vice's movement. Unsure if he's ever been on sand or on a monster's mouth doesn't slow the needed renewed contemplations of Vice. An ocean of stars retreats to their natural insignificance to the moon's guidance, and Vice flips over whatever ground he can see before him. Magically assisted strength smashes away the grounded simulation's hold and gives Vice a pathway back to safe waters.

(300+)

In ever-evolving beauty, Vice finds another fishie to board. Where's Ryuk? Vice has no idea, he'll catch up at some point. Time passes, Vice lives off nature where he should have been, rather than doing a shortcut to divine right. Fishies are more fun than manufactured specials in one spot or another. Vice trusts sunny and baked monster food best now, being civilized is disdained anyway. Sledding around on cracked-out seas of his own-making, Vice is ready to retreat to more useful affairs. Ever-expanding, selfishness has long found itself in an Icebergian like Vice. Without knowing staff, Vice is left to get the merchant's used "special" goods, as he's not allowed his own. Merchants and sailors aren't a respectable enough profession, most others only fisherman proud of their tools where others can't get them.

Ocean gods are most cool and most old worldy. Ocean disappearances and assassinations are coolest, Vice is now safe from those as he waddled closer to Astera. It's more cool when people find corpses while swimming, but Vice tagged along with another whale instinctually avoiding a generic fate. Salt is everywhere and Vice has to go through it anyway. Lifespan can be gained anytime and it's fake against a quick ascent. A new ground is constructing, a new toilet bowl smells nice rather than staring at his own moon in fear, a nice ocean's a new discarded world in Vice's past.

Moons are gentle evils and gentle fixed lights to Vice. The moon's always watching and soaking in a mage's unfair boredom. People tend to want a grounded fantasy, rather than a healthy mix of unglorified ocean science to please their scripted circumstance. The moon leaks out dirtiness like Vice who has to intrude. Eating the fellow discarded pieces, Vice voids his way to the true path, without taking for granted his place among the fishies. Playtime brings craziness and the luck is it's compass. The moon has 2 sides to many people, the dark side is the lucky side's portal that Vice just happened to enter. Progress toward no ending in a long night is most scary when it creeps to many days. Most puzzle pieces of new food are broken up and troublesome. Stable anticipation of chaos follows repressed release from the werewolf furries that disliked the water, and sometimes Vice simply had to run along as he did. There's no difference between dream and real to Vice for what matters inside. Lesson learned is that Vice wishes he had a whale mount as he leaves perhaps deeply drunk and having hallucinated.

(300+, exit)