Isekai'd, My Posterior!
Disclaimer: Does it look like I own bloody Dark Souls? Oh, it does? Well then. You must be bloody colorblind. What does that have to do with thinking I own a multi-million-dollar franchise? Simple, I thought that if I entered a sliver of my own stupidity to clash with yours, they might cancel out. As for those that didn't believe that I owned a multi-million-dollar franchise… why the hell didn't you?! Is it too much to ask that we can ALL be rich? Eh?!
A man's gotta eat before he writes up this messed-up parody, you know?
Bones. There were a lot of them. 206 to be precise. Dotted, lined, joined, locked and docked all around the insides of every living and un-living being on this godforsaken rock. It gave the body structure, made it able to do stuff like walking, fapping and talking. It was a necessary part of the living body and without them there would just be the cringe-worthy image of millions of people sitting in individual puddles of skin and eyeballs.
That being said… the sight of a literal massif of them towering above the collapsed stairs of a once acceptable descending slope was a sorry site to behold – especially when said bones were bursting at the marrow with lethargic maggots and an awful lot of bug crap that seemed to possess an odor similar to Oscar's crotch sweat.
Yeah, he wasn't joking when he said that. The mans phallus seemed to sweat like a freshly peeled onion when he was forced to spend time in a dank space. It was freaking mortifying to William's sensitive sense of smell. And he had dreaded the moment he would have the meet Frampt? The real terror was this naïve aryan cuck. He would have to warn old Cresty before shit got real. Or he could just kill the Astorian here.
William blinked at the thought and turned his gaze toward the knight who was dusting himself off after falling into a vat of rotten mud – further putrefying the stench on him that stank worse than a dumpster diver eating regurgitated tacos in the Summertime.
He didn't want to wake up to that waft of dead ferrets every time it was time to set up camp but if it meant he wouldn't have to be the Chosen Undead then…
"Ah, pickled pricks." William cussed and climbed down the ladder barely hanging onto the rocks below him – because that was how a normal person traversed the Catacombs.
They had made decent time within this domain of death, going as far as to reach one of the innermost pathways lining the coffin-filled corridors. At first it had been a real shit show, with floating skulls that burst when in proximity to the living, to annoying skeletons that reassembled when cut down, to hollow necromancer's that assumed throwing flares of fire would stop a man in full platemail from decking his wrinkly face into a wall. Seriously, the foes here were as linearly-minded as in the game – not that he was complaining all the much, he still couldn't throw a punch to injure a flea.
Inversely, at least that crappy game mechanic had been thrown out of the window now that William was standing in the real world – if one could call a reanimated digital world real.
He honestly never understood it. How could a simple blast of regular fire be enough to scorch half a person's HP? The staggering, he could comprehend, but for a player in thick ass chainmail and plates to tumble backwards from a fan of flame that was more like a slap from a large glove? Yeah, sometimes logic escaped the gaming scene.
On the flipside, the sword he had nabbed from that hollow corpse had done him leaps and bounds. Sure, he had evolved from a thin twig to a thin twig with abs, but if he could carry all the grocery bags from the car to his front door without stopping for a break, he could swing a damn straight sword with no problem.
"It is remarkable," Oscar mentioned to him as they were climbing down from a ledge that led toward yet another cavern of coffins. "how did you even manage to procure such a fine piece of equipment?"
William rolled his eyes. Not this again, he had asked the same bloody question five bloody minutes ago. Was he attempting to weed out the truth or was the knight simply touched in the head?
"I told you already, I found it on a corpse whilst taking a wiz. When I reached down to pick it up, I got taken doggy-style by a dragon claw."
The Astorian stopped for a moment before continuing to walk. It was quite clear that that description had scared him. That was good. The bastard better know how much he had suffered so that they could take the 'easy' way out.
"R-Right…" Oscar replied before adjusting his pauldron and taking point before they entered through a darker alcove.
The sight of scattered bones and discarded weapons didn't do much to ease their worry as both undead drew their blades and stood back to back. The second they did, the rattling of hundreds of ivory pieces began to create a symphony of foreboding before three skeletons rose from the musty floor, two-handing falchions and dropping their skulls into their spinal cords.
The knight made the first move, dashing forward and flashing his steel at the midsection of the closest skeleton. The amalgamation of sentient bone noticed him coming and hopped backward. That was when Oscar crunched his shield into its cheekbone, sending it clattering into pieces before he plunged his sword directly into its rolling skull. The glowing blue flames within the fallen skeletons eye sockets faded to black and the reassembling bones fell like a house of cards.
The second skeleton decided to react to the quick execution and began a line of rolling, its sword perpetually poised above its head like some mobile pendulum. Oscar heard the click-clack of its blade knock against the floor and turned, shield raised and feet apart.
The impact that came jarred his left arm, but he stood firm, not bothered by such a simple attack. The skeleton in turn realized its error but was too late to do anything as the Astorian plunged his blade through its skull from underneath the jaw, sterling edge breaking through the cranium with a shower of yellow splinters.
William, meanwhile, was busy eyeing his foe like a dog would tilt its head in confusion toward an idiotic human. He knew these things were just skeletons being controlled by necromancers but seriously, all this dipshit was doing was strafing him. Could he be any less obvious? He was waiting to parry; it was a textbook move almost every person in Dark Souls learned before actually playing the game.
However, if he were to be honest this one time, he had actually never learned how to parry. He just didn't see a need for it when he just soldiered through the blows with more stamina than HP. Thinking back on it now, perhaps he had a complex about it.
Shaking his head and staring at the skeleton pacing back and forth, William decided to deal with it as easily as Oscar had. He knew he couldn't just rush in a hack at the thing. It was a skeleton, but it was smarter than a hollow, which meant it could put up a decent fight. Additionally, he didn't have nearly enough energy to compete with something that was the epitome of undeath that most likely had unlimited stamina. So, he would have to fight smart.
William grinned, sheathed his sword, walked up to the strafing dumbass and casually lifted a foot. He waited for the skeleton to pace back his way before flicking his boot forward and planting it against the annoying thing's shield.
With a bit of force, he shoved and watched the skeleton stumble backward before tripping on its ankle and falling into the ravine directly behind it. William peered over the crag he and Oscar were standing on and saw his foes body break apart against a large rock before a rush of souls entered into his Darksign.
He sighed out in mild euphoria. So his assumption had been correct. Defeating a skeleton whilst carrying a holy item also ensured it wouldn't get back up again. He was beginning to like these real-world mechanics.
"Still, I find it odd that you're able to call upon the blessing of Allfather Lloyd." Oscar motioned to the straight sword strapped to William's hip. "I thought that thieves didn't believe in any specific deity."
William yawned in reply, waving a dismissive hand. However, on the inside, he was choking on that air and attempting to use the carbon dioxide to asphyxiate himself.
It was just his dumb luck that the otherwise brainless knight would develop a keen religious intellect to spit at him like some posthumous member of the clergy. Oh, well. At least there were no short supply of fanatical idiots to go around on this rock either. How lovely. How annoying. He wanted to hug Oscar around the neck with a frayed length of rope until he turned blue. Stupid Astorian's.
"A-Ah, yes, well maybe the gods are just… I dunno. 'Watching over me'?" William finally said, his fingers creating air commas.
The knight gazed at him, a hand on the hilt of his sword as he took a moment – which felt more like an hour – to assess his comrade's theory. After more than three minutes had passed and William had effectively realized that he had peed himself a little, the Astorian shrugged and turned back toward their current pathway, causing an inaudible sigh to escape the Thief's lips.
"Perhaps you are right in that train of thought. After all, they allowed me to save you, which thereafter led to you saving me. Who am I to question their wisdom?"
"Who indeed."
They continued to traverse the upper levels of the Catacombs, William turning his gullible friend away from any shiny objects and curious alcoves before he got ganked by a squad of skeletons holding scimitars. And he never, never allowed Oscar a chance to examine the statues of weeping women dotted around the dead city, lest he have to walk around with a cyclops Astorian – because looking at the idiot with both eyes intact was torture enough. If he had to lose one it would be just mortifying.
Using his in-game knowledge, William had done his best to direct dangerous scenarios away from the two of them, leaving many reanimated skeletons to just idly scratch their skulls and wonder where both of them had run off to. That had left Oscar the opportunity to strike them all whilst they were confused.
It had also been quite mesmerizing seeing the Astorian fight. As a hollow, his moves had been telegraphed, using the ordinary methods of combat to kill the Chosen Undead. Alive and not hollow, however; and he actually turned out to be pretty dandy. His armor was heavy on his body, sure, but he moved like a cat; blocking and redirecting strikes only to slip that sleek sword of his where it was guaranteed to output the most damage. And the fact that his stamina was outrageously high helped the undead to execute tiring moves continuously as if he was goddamn Kirito from SAO.
Strangely – or just fortunately – they had not come into contact with Patches, and this was after they had made both of the main bridges accessible for travel. Although it was an oddity in William's information, he was still glad. The last thing he needed was to come into contact with an actual thief. His bacon would surely be cooked then.
"Alright Oscar," William said when they were halfway across the second bridge, "This is where we part ways."
The blonde knight merely jerked back as if slapped. William frowned in disappointment. That sudden reaction made him want to slap Oscar. Life was so unfair sometimes.
"I beg your pardon, but why? Have we not ventured this far to collect the item you were speaking of?"
"Yes, we are." William plugged a finger up his nose, surveying the other levels for prowling skeletons and floating red skulls.
"Then why is it that we should divide from one another? Surely my blade would make this task easier for us if we were to stick together?"
He wasn't wrong on that front. Having Oscar around would be a big help, especially when it came down to dealing with those pinwheel skeletons far down below them. However, since Oscar was – and would always be – a dunce to the core that procrastinated more than acting, he would only serve to slow William down. Besides, he wasn't that confident in himself to be able to conjure up a believable lie as to how he knew Leeroy's summon sign was a long drop away from a boss fight with a tri-headed mass of black magic and self-experimentation. So… getting the dumb, yet seldomly smart knight to piss off was the next best thing. It wasn't like the knight was going to die if he was left unattended, right? Right?
"Nope," William made an X with his arms, "covering more ground would be a big help to us. And the best way to do that is to split up. We could be here for days or even weeks if we waste time doing this methodically."
The Astorian seemed to consider his words before nodding resolutely, his armor clinking slightly. William smiled his reassuring smile. Or at least he hoped it was his reassuring smile. The last time he had tried to move his facial muscles like this, a young child at age six had run screaming in a public park because that had actually been his 'come closer so I can harvest your organs' smile. He really, really, really didn't want to mess the two up in a serious moment like this.
"Alright." Oscar said, breaking William from his train of thought. "We'll split up but don't push yourself. As it is, your physical endurance is worse than a sloth's."
The Thief closed his eyes and smiled wider. Way to twist the knife. Maybe he should allow the knight to examine those statues after all. Being pin-cushioned wouldn't hurt nearly as bad as the thorn he was going to shove up the idiot's urethra when they slept at a bonfire later.
"But knowing your foresight, I have the utmost trust that you will stay safe." He finished, slapping William on the shoulder. Hard. Seriously, where did he put those firebombs from earlier?
"Yeah… thanks man. Search around for a while. If you find something worth any significance, grab it and snap one of these in half." William said, handing his partner a small, white bone that seemed to glow mildly.
"What's this? A Homeward Bone." He jerked his visor up and stared at William with those blue eyes of his. "Where did you manage to acquire these?"
William scratched the back of his head. "Remember that corpse we saw on that balcony back at Firelink?"
"The one that was glowing with soul energy."
"Yep."
"What about it?"
"You… really don't expect me to state something that obvious… do you?"
"Wha? But I don- Ah. I see."
William smiled. "Yep, it was right on the-"
"I really wish you would stop defiling the bodies of the dead. What if you get cursed?"
"I- what?" the Thief stared at his companion.
"You got the Homeward Bones by pilfering the fingers from the corpse in the shrine. You just said it yourself."
"I didn't strip a damn corpse; I found a bag of them on its person!"
"Oh, so you didn't take the decomposed body's fingers from it and peel the decayed skin away? Because that's the first ingredient for making these trusty brittle life-savers."
William sighed out in exasperation. "Oscar… how do you even know how to create Homeward Bones?"
"Oh, well I-"
"You know something, I don't even want to know! Just… head that way."
Oscar nodded sagely before he walked off, waving at him before delving into the corridor leading toward the resting place of a deceased Darkmoon. William let out another long sigh. He was curious fellow, yes, but not when it came to the idiotic enigma that was his foolish Chosen Undead substitute.
The knight would obviously investigate the soap stone message in front of the broken wall, with or without William being present. It was just something a noob like Oscar would do. But he needn't worry. As much of an idiot as he was, his instincts were as sharp as his blade. He would be okay.
As for himself, he wasn't so sure. No… scratch that, he changed his mind. He was certain. Pretty certain. More than certain. Definitely certain… that he was going to die again.
Kicking a loose stone, his onyx eyes watched it fall like a brown raindrop before shattering against a jagged precipice. If he was going to reach Pinwheel's room of filthy water and mossy books, he would need to jump from the bridge and onto that piece of extra land. Unfortunately, said drop was more than thirty feet, the next one over fifteen and the last about ten feet in height. And the worst tidbit of information he didn't want to know but listed anyway: he was a fraudulent Thief. Which meant he had absolutely no parkour skills.
Yep, this fall was going to kill him – if the floating skulls and two sets of walking bones didn't do it first. Oh, how fun life in a fantasy world was.