A/N: The bunnies have been shamelessly encouraged, I know exactly who's to blame... Much thanks to Kryal for providing some translations of Japanese Wikipedia bits. Ah, juicy canon background info... :)
Well, Naotsugu reflected, the good news is, I'm not going to have to fight through the morning commute for a while.
He let his glance slide toward where Shiroe sat in quiet contemplation after their tasteless lunch. Or what looked like contemplation. The white-and-gold cloak didn't seem to as much as twitch from here, but Naotsugu would bet the paycheck he probably wasn't going to see that their strategist was very quietly, very responsibly, having a controlled freakout.
Heh. Can't blame him.
After all, he'd done some not-so-quiet and definitely not responsible freaking out of his own, before Shiroe's call had come through. One minute he'd been logged on for the first time in two years; refreshing his memory on everything a level 90 Guardian could do, and warming up a few panty-chasing lines calculated to make a too-serious engineering grad student bang his head on his desk. Because seriously, Shiroe always needed to loosen up. Just a little. And they'd have a brand-new expansion to explore together, this was going to be so much fun-
The clock clicked over.
Bam.
It hadn't even gone dark. Naotsugu just had the weirdest sense that he'd just missed something... and where was all this sunlight coming from?
Panicking in plate armor? Bad idea.
At least he'd been in a rather nice forest clearing, and not next to a whole bunch of other panicking people. He'd heard some yelling, but it'd had more of a tone of "what the freaking hell!" than the sound of anybody actually hurt. So he'd grabbed onto something he'd read once about the first rule of getting lost: sit down and stay put.
Waking up in Seldesha pretty much counted as lost in Naotsugu's book. Especially when, in one who-knew-what-happened blink, he'd gone from being a twenty-five-year-old businessman in (ahem) okay shape, to a Guardian in full plate, sword, and shield.
Moving around was weird. He knew the armor weighed a lot. He could tell by the thump of his gauntlet on his chest, or the momentum when he slung his shield and longsword over his back. But it didn't feel heavy. It felt like... heck. Like the familiar constriction of a salaryman's suit and tie. Like he was just used to it.
Naotusgu liked to think he didn't spook easily. But this was - well, spooky. And if all that yelling was a bunch of people just as spooked as he was, things could get messy. The kind of mess he didn't want to get into without serious backup, even if he did look like he could handle a whole biker brawl on his own. And speaking of look like...
He'd spent more time than he wanted to think about just staring at the water. Lucky him, he'd based his character icon on his own face, more or less. So the face looking back was odd, but not quite as odd as being able to walk around in sheet steel without even breaking a sweat.
Right now, that's me. Huh.
Weird or not, he'd known he couldn't stay by that pond forever. The trick was picking a direction to go. Yelling meant people. Yelling also meant those people were scared and upset. He'd been listening hard, trying to judge which faint yells had the best chance of belonging to people who were upset, but not so upset they couldn't think-
Ring.
Shiroe's icon. Shiroe's invitation to chat. The one player Naotsugu most wanted to see; the one guy he knew he could depend on to keep a level head in any and all disasters. Whatever this mess was, their chances of getting out of it had just skyrocketed.
He could have hugged Shiroe for showing up. Not that he'd tell their shy strategist that. The poor guy had a hard enough time dealing with girls as it was.
Which was part of the reason Naotsugu had decided to ham up the Panty Warrior as soon as they'd determined neither of them had a clue what was going on. Because the second he'd seen the enchanter half-stumble down the hill to meet him...
Poor Shiroe, had been Naotsugu's startled, gleeful thought. He's going to be beating girls off with a stick!
If Hasegawa Naotsugu had had to describe Shirogane Kei to Missing Persons, the word he would have had to use was average. Average height, average build; even his glasses somehow looked like average grad-school glasses. Drop the younger man into any Tokyo crowd, and you couldn't find him. Bring him to a party? Naotsugu had learned to check the quiet corners, but other than that, most people wouldn't even realize Kei was there.
The Enchanter Shiroe was not average.
Half-Alv, Naotsugu thought now, carefully not watching as Shiroe's fingers explored dark hair. Wish I'd read up more on that race.
Sure, he knew the basics. Some unthinkably long time ago, Alvs had been the most mystically advanced civilization in all of Seldesha. Then... well, what had happened depended on who you asked, but everybody agreed that the last of the Alvs had died out centuries ago.
Only before they had... heh. Alvs had liked humans. Some of them had liked them a lot. Meaning to this day, usually in the most unsuspecting families, a bunch of throwback traits would get together and have a party, and a Half-Alv would be born.
Kind of the ultimate Ugly Duckling story, Naotsugu reflected. If the little swan grew up to throw lightning bolts.
The longer he'd known Kei, the less he'd been surprised at the guy's choice for his character. Nails that stuck up got hammered down, and Shirogane Kei had seen a lot of hammering.
Shiroe's going to start breaking the hammers.
Naotsugu had seen hints of that the first night, when they'd faced the briar weasels. One minute Shiroe had been trying to strategize their way through the fight the same as always, and doing a pretty good job considering everything was suddenly real, stinky teeth were snapping at their faces, and the controls were acting like a useless stack of pop-ups. The next-
Maybe getting tossed by that triffid had rattled loose the chains of proper behavior in Kei's head. Naotsugu almost wished he could go back and thank it.
Ignore the commands. Feel the motion!
Sounded kooky, but it worked. And it was awesome.
Though not nearly as awesome as that fight with the PKers last night.
"I wouldn't mind giving them the money." Shiroe's voice had turned downright evil. "That is, if they can beat us."
With that, the last qualms Naotsugu had about facing other players vanished. Shiroe was backing him, all the way. The PKers might think they had the numbers. He had a strategist.
And he was a Guardian.
You're not getting past me to Shiroe. Don't even try.
They did try, of course. They were idiots, but they weren't stupid. Healers, mages, warriors, then anybody else. And Shiroe was obviously a mage.
Anchor Howl!
Thinking back on it now, Naotsugu wondered how long it'd take Shiroe to calm down enough that he could ask the enchanter what spellcasting felt like. Because the Howl wasn't anything as simple as just calling an attack. It was like... like reaching out and demanding the world pay attention to him. Like feeling all the eyes in a smoky bar about to boil over into a fight, and daring them to take him on.
You don't get to hurt him. You don't get to touch him. Not without going through me first.
Not one of them had laid a finger on Shiroe. Not one.
Damn, I'm good.
They all were. Not just because they were level 90. They worked together, assassin and enchanter taking apart their enemies with clinical precision while the idiot bandits had focused on one loud, obvious Guardian.
But what was really awesome was a little moment Naotsugu had almost missed. One quiet, subtle spell, that had pulverized the keystone of their enemies' whole strategy.
Astral Hypnos.
Looking back, Naotsugu thought he could pinpoint when Shiroe had snapped that spell off. The strategist had been directing him toward the most deadly fighter among their opponents, there'd been a subtle silvery glow around his hand...
Just a glow. No whispered spell. No subtle attempt to poke his way through a menu. The enchanter had just reached out for the magic he wanted, and... it came.
Our little Ugly Duckling's starting to fledge.
The food was tasteless, and the whole situation was as crazy as anything out of a fantasy manga. But Naotsugu couldn't help hoping it lasted a few weeks longer.
Back with Marielle - he knew what the right choice was. All he needed was a nudge to say it. Naotsugu hid a grin, remembering that flash of wonder in Shiroe's eyes, as the enchanter realized his party was going to back him, no matter what. Which was all the strength he'd needed to make the right call. For everyone.
It's like a wisteria vine finally reaching out of the shade. He's growing into himself.
It was going to be hard to go back to Tokyo after this. For all of them. Shiroe was breaking a tactician's mind out of the ice of years of don't stand out. Akatsuki was finally getting the respect no one on Earth was going to give a shrimp her size. As for himself... being a Guardian could be painful. But so much fun.
Don't borrow trouble. Like Shiroe said, we don't even know how we got here. Figuring out a way home could take a while.
At least Shiroe's spells of clumsiness from being too tall seemed to be wearing off. Fighting monsters had been good for their enchanter. For all of them, really. Maybe they'd wake up tomorrow and this would all be a dream. Until then, the faster they got used to these bodies, the better.
Especially for Shiroe. A few extra centimeters and a Half-Alv's build were going to have too many cuties after him as it was. If he hung onto that ungodly cute puppy-growing-into-paws hesitance, Marielle would be the least of his problems. Just look at how fast their Little Miss Deadly had fallen for him. Sure, Akatsuki said she was repaying a debt. Right. Everybody repaid debts with stars in their eyes and little pink hearts dancing over their heads...
Well, not literally. Lucky for all of them. The look on Shiroe's face when Akatsuki had pledged fealty!
Thought he was going to burst into flames. Naotsugu smirked. You'd think a girl never crushed on him before.
Then again, he knew Kei. The ultimate quiet Nice Guy. Only most people never knew Kei was a nice guy. All they saw were the sharp eyes and shiny glasses. So yeah. It wasn't just possible, it was likely.
Better be a little careful teasing them. Not too careful, Shiroe would notice - but nothing too raunchy.
He was pretty sure Akatsuki was older than she looked. Nobody could deliver such a perfect knee to the face without the confidence to mean it. But older wasn't necessarily grownup, and if this was her first real crush... well, there was a huge difference between being an open pervert and being mean. He liked Akatsuki. Even if she was a violent little shrimp. She had great taste in party members.
How'd she even know Shiroe had that potion?
Naotsugu rolled his eyes at himself. How else? Shiroe had probably zeroed in on yet another solo player with potential, pointed out a few quests where an assassin would be an invaluable asset to a party, and looked honestly bewildered when said solo suddenly started turning up to party with him.
And now they were all partying together, FTF, and he got to watch Shiroe try to be cool, calm, and collected while the enchanter was staring down the Ultimate Weapon of Deadly Cuteness.
Hee. Hee hee hee...
Violet eyes narrowed at him. "What?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Naotsugu caught Shiroe's shoulders lift. Good. Crisis averted, for now. "Oh, just thinking," he said mischievously.
"Thinking?"
Now she was suspicious. Smart assassin. Naotsugu stood, and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Thinking... that I can't believe we agreed to do this! Going all the way to Susukino? I'm going to die from boob deficienc-"
Bam.
"My lord, may I knee this strange perverted man in the face?"
Yep. This was going to be fun.
A/N: FTF - Face to face.
Okay, got better screenshots of Shiroe. (Darn it. Disappointed bunnies.) And more canon info. Apparently in the world of Log Horizon, "Half-Alv" is not at all related to "Half-Elf". Elves are an existing race; Marielle is one. Alvs are apparently an entirely different race, who were a highly advanced magical civilization, and are now supposedly extinct. Half-Alvs only exist because there's still Alv heritage in some humans that surfaces as "throwbacks".
(The available canon info on Alvs actually reminds me of the Old Race in Andre Norton's Witch World, complete with the dark hair, pale skin, strong magical potential, and association with ancient ruins and Lost Technologies. But that's just me...)