…But one thing that irritates me most is how people can be so blatantly rude.

My name is Crataeis, and I am a crossbow-wielding archer. I have already gone to Athena Pierce a while ago and achieved an official status of a Crossbow Woman. Actually, it says “Crossbow MAN” on my ID, but I refuse to say that since I am, in fact, female.

I will tell you now why I harness a bit of irritation. It’s not such a long story, but the problem happens over a period of time — and is still happening.

Shortly after I completed my test, I hopped onto the ride to the continent of Ossyria. I had heard about what sort of talented hair stylists, surgeons, and skin-specialists that worked in Orbis, and — I must admit, I’m a little vain — was in a hurry to check them out. The reason why I didn’t go earlier was because I also heard that the monsters that existed on Ossyria were more intimidating, so I had figured I best waited.

When I landed, my friend greeted me, and I was stunned to see her hair so…so pretty! Bright red bows complemented her long, wavy strands. Envy, amazement, and excitement welled up in me, and it was decided that I get my own hair done. It wasn’t as if I didn’t like my old spiky and sort of messy hair… I just thought I could get something better.

The hair stylist didn’t allow me to choose, seeing as the coupon I had was just a regular one, but I was quite satisfied with the result. Even though it wasn’t as dazzling as my friend’s, I thought it was cute enough. My brown hair was made thick and curly with a ponytail high on my head, bangs falling softly above my eyes. But when I looked in the mirror, it didn’t seem to match with my dark, narrow eyes. No… Cute and sophisticated don’t match with me.

With this idea in mind, I headed over to the plastic surgery building. I had no idea what I was going to look like, but I had hoped I wasn’t going to become thick-lipped and ugly. I can recall it clearly when I closed my eyes and opened them again to see my transformation.

Disaster struck.

To my horror, I had become what I had hoped not. Wide eyes glistened back at my reflections. When my trembling fingers prodded my full lips, I finally broke out into a high-pitched scream and ran out of there, covering my face.

I’m ashamed to say this, but I spent a while moping and weeping about my appearance. However, I realized that I was going to have this face until I could afford to have surgery again. So, determined, I went on doing my thing with a new outlook.

After a bit, I found myself actually enjoying the face, as did others. “You’re cute,” some people said. “I like your pretty smile.” That made me glad.

And of course… With each compliment, there’s an insult to negate it. “Ewww,” “yuck,” and “AAAH! Cover it up!” were sent my way. I always just roll my eyes and ignore them, or humor them by making the ugliest face I have. I don’t blame people who don’t like my face. After all, I thought the same thing when I first saw myself. My clothes are baggy and modern, and with this hair and face, it just doesn’t fit.

…

But then there are those who just – won’t – quit. Like I said, I understand if people find me ugly, I really do. However, I really, really, REALLY abhor it when people just keep insulting me and making puking faces whenever they see me. Once is excusable. Twice is all right. By the third time, I’m gritting my teeth to keep myself from throwing back vicious things. Even when I was doing the party adventure in Ludibrium, there were people making fun.

There was also a time when someone was actually immature enough to lower my standing. I was browsing the free market when I noticed he had done that. I had met the fool on a boat from Orbis, and the guy was constantly on my case, making other people join in on the jeering. I had snapped back, and apparently he couldn’t take it. Heh. Turns out the most shallow are the most ugly.

But you know what? That’s their problem. I don’t plan to keep this face forever, but until I can afford to fix myself up…I can deal with it; it’s just them who can’t. I’ll get annoyed, sure, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Not in the end.