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#the only thing stopping me from pumping out more art is my battery life

dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Ranked S

Tigre stood in the doorway to the dining hall of Cassell College in awe of the massive chandelier. It was gold, in the shape of a great tree under a high domed ceiling and every leaf was a light. It was the most magnificent thing he had seen in all of the College so far and it was accessible because he knew what a tree was and what a lamp was and he could see that this work of art was the two put together. What great innovation!

After spending a few hours last night with Chu Zihang’s friends, he felt too excited to sleep. He kept fiddling with the tablet computer all night, surfing the internet and googling all manner of things until the machine ran out of batteries. They had explained how to charge it, but Tigre felt a moment of great panic when the low battery warning came up. What if he tried to charge it and it didn’t work? He’d be up a creek on his first day of school.

The freshman students in green uniforms all sat at very long heavy wooden tables. He recognized the Smith sisters and waved, trotting up to them and sitting down. “Hi! I hope you feel better now!”

The Smith sisters all looked at him in silence and uncomfortable smiles. Except for Ruby. She gave a little laugh and said. “Yeah, we do… thanks.”

They all wore the same hairstyle with their hair tied up and back and the mass of curls poofed out like a bouquet of flowers. They still had the insect motif. Ruby with her butterfly earrings, Porsche with her dragonfly earrings, and Ladybug Celeste.

“Oh. What’s that on the wall? Is that dragon language too?” Tigre asked in wonder.

“That’s Latin…” Porsche drawled. “You should be able to tell if you speak Spanish.” She rested her cheek in her hand and pointed at him, doubt filling her voice.

“He said he only spoke a little!” Ruby was quick to defend him. “It’s just saying ‘Welcome new students.”

“Oh… Latin…” Now that he stared at it he could tell it was a bit like Spanish.

Suddenly a silver platter was settled in front of him and the lid opened to reveal a plate of hardboiled eggs, bread, cheese and ham. He yelped in surprise. “Woah!”

Ruby laughed again. Even Celeste cracked a smile. “You must have grown up in the boonies. You act like you’re in Disney World.” She said, chuckling.

Tigre was already stuffing his face with the bread and eggs and mumbled. “No, I’m from Mexico.”

Celeste shook her head, covering her smile. “I know! What I meant was… you know what? Never mind. It’s nice to meet someone who’s not a sourpuss.”

A sudden hush fell over the dining room and a few students stood up as Lu Mingfei entered accompanied by the members of the Student Union Elite and a beautiful woman walking behind him. “That’s Lu Mingfei, S ranked President of the Student Union. I hear he’s back from killing a real dragon.” Ruby explained in a hush whisper. “I hear he’s the strongest student the College has ever had.”

“Really he did?” Tigre watched in awe. This guy was so quiet and normal and humble, he never imagined that he could have killed a dragon. “I heard he was President of the Student Union. What does that mean?”

“There are many clubs here but two main ones. The Student Union and Lionheart. The Student Union was run by Caesar Gattuso who killed the King of Bronze and Fire two years ago. He passed his club to Lu Mingfei. Lionheart was run by Chu Zihang who killed the King of Earth and Mountains year before last. They had a great rivalry but Lu Mingfei doesn’t seem to be interested in continuing that and Lionheart leadership has been hollowed out. Chu Zihang, Susie, and Lancelot all graduated. They were all the Lionheart elite.”

“Was run? Chu Zihang doesn’t run it any more?”

“No, he graduated recently and was sent on missions. In fact, they’re all graduated now. Caesar is in Rome in the Italy branch.”

Tigre’s chewing slowed and he swallowed. “Graduated… so Chu Zihang doesn’t go here any more…”

“No, he was just here recovering from his last mission. He’ll probably go back to work now that he’s fully recovered.” Porsche shrugged.

He sighed and lowered his eyes. “Oh… he… he didn’t tell me that.”

Celeste’s elegant eyebrow raised. “Why would he tell you that? Do you know him?”

For the first time, Tigre seemed genuinely sad to the sisters. He stopped eating and hung his head. “Yeah. He saved my life.”

“Get out!” Porsche’s eyes were wide in her head. “How did that happen?”

Tigre looked on the verge of tears. “It’s kinda sad but I was not let out of a prison all my life. Chu Zihang broke me out of that prison and that’s how I came here. He gave me a computer tablet. He didn’t say he was leaving.”

The sisters all fixed him with sad serious gazes.

“No wonder you don’t know anything…” Ruby sighed.

“I… I’ll send him a farewell message later I guess.” He mumbled. He understood that Chu Zihang had to leave, but did he have to leave without saying anything? The tablet computer must have been a goodbye gift as well as a welcome gift.

The Smith sister’s eyes all went wide at the same time, like a row of kittens. They were looking behind him and when Tigre turned around, Lu Mingfei was standing behind him.

“All settled in?”

“Yes… sir?” He asked.

“Oh no, not you too with the sir stuff.” Mingfei lamented, one hand on his head.

“I’m sorry I just heard you were the strongest student in Cassell!” Tigre explained quickly.

Lu Mingfei winced slowly and sighed. “Anyway. I wanted to ask you if you’ve settled in alright.”

Tigre nodded. He noticed that all the students in the dining hall were staring at him. Some of them whispered to each other, their eyes fixed on him as they did so.

“I heard Chu Zihang was leaving. Do you know when?” Tigre asked quietly sad.

“Oh… yeah he left last night. He didn’t tell you?” Mingfei’s eyes widened slightly.

Crestfallen, Tigre shook his head.

“Ah… Senior Brother is always like this. He comes and goes without a word and doesn’t understand how that might affect people. He thought a lot of you. Anyway, We can talk later, don’t take it so hard, okay?” He gave Tigre an awkward pat on the shoulder.

The sisters were rendered speechless. Lu Mingfei walked away to the Senior Student’s table where he sat down, surrounded by men in suits as he was served by three separate waiters. It seemed like he was in the lap of luxury, the King of Cassell. Yet, looking at him, Tigre couldn’t help but think that Lu Mingfei was very lonely. He didn’t really talk to the people next to him, just lowered his head and ate like a horse in a stable.

A hand suddenly slammed into his view. “Hey, I’m talking here.”

“Charles Xavier!” Tigre exclaimed.

The boy with dark hair and eyes who challenged him before apparently had been trying to get his attention when he was looking at Lu Mingfei.

“My name’s not ‘Charles Xavier’ I was messing with you!” He wrinkled his nose and glared his eyes down at him. “You know Lu Mingfei? How the hell?”

“I… I met him yesterday after the test. There was a little party at Chu Zihang’s house.” Tigre answered honestly with an owlish expression.

‘Charles Xavier’ massaged the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut like he suddenly had a massive headache. “You were at… Chu Zihang’s party?”

Tigre flinched. “Uh… Yeah… Sorry, if I knew you wanted to go I would have invited you…”

Celeste and her two sisters all lifted their coffee cups in unison and sipped, watching this scene with great pleasure.

‘Charles’ cleared his throat. “Well then… allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Robert Musonda, of the Musonda copper mining company in Zambia. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh… nice to meet you too.” Tigre accepted the offered hand.

“Have you decided which club you were going to join? I personally have not. I was waiting to see how things were. With all the elites gone, things could go either way. The Student Union could fall, or Lionheart could resurge.”

“I haven’t… really thought of clubs. I…” Tigre looked to Ruby for help. She’d been very helpful so far.

“Lionheart and Student Union were huge rivals before. I think people are expecting that to continue but it doesn’t have to. It depends on leadership. I think Lionheart will really push hard to regain some ground after losing so much to Student Union.” She nodded to him.

Robert Musonda clasped his hands behind his back. “In fact, leadership itself is up for grabs at Lionheart. A lot of freshmen are thinking of going to see if they can snatch the spot. With you being good friends with Mingfei and Chu Zihang, you’d be a shoe in!”

“I wouldn’t call myself good friends… We just met yesterday…”

Robert Musonda leaned forward. “He came over here and greeted you and only you… I call that good friends.” He patted Tigre on the shoulder the same way Lu Mingfei had and dropped his card next to him. “Let’s chat after class.”

Robert sauntered away. His card had a small floral scent but was simple and white with black block lettering of his family business and name along with a phone number and email.

As they were leaving the breakfast hall, Tigre’s tablet computer chimed. When he looked at it, he had a new message in his inbox. “Oh. I got my exam results.”

“Quick check your email!” Celeste exclaimed.

Apparently all the results were posted publicly and at the same time. Students all stopped what they were doing and were looking at their results, heads bowed over their phones. Some students cheered and pumped their fists. Others gave each other high fives. Some students huddled together, giving consoling pats on the back. They were listed in order by last name and, since Tigre didn’t have a last name, the null entry in the last name field put his name right at the top.

Name: Tigre

Resonance Test result: S

Attached to his email was several pages of materials. Based on his ranking, he was afforded a stipend of money. $100,000! He also had a lot of privileges like first pick of meals and he could call the train to take him to Chicago whenever he wanted.

“Congratulations on your high level of Ranking.” It said. “With these privileges also come responsibilities. You are expected to perform at high level in the college in both class attendance and performance. If you fail to perform, you will be downgraded and your privileges will be revoked.”

He looked up at Ruby, relying on her once again for guidance. “What classes do I have?”

“You have to pick your own classes.” She said, with a trembling voice. “I can’t believe you’re S ranked. That’s insane. Are you half dragon?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Tigre shrugged.

Celeste stepped in, pushing Tigre forward. “There’s a link to register for classes. But let’s not do this in the hallway where everyone stares at us.”

She leaned over to him, smiling gently. “So, do you have a roommate yet?”

“Uh… I don’t have a dorm.” He said quietly.

“Then you should stay with us. We’ll help you.” Celeste smiled at him.

“Yeah!” Porsche said, glancing at her Celeste and holding his hand. “We’ll start by registering you for classes and stuff. Do you have anything you need to move?”

“Not… really? Just a few things.” Tigre said nervously as he was herded out of the Dining Hall by the three women.

Ruby clung to his other arm. “Then I’ll help you move!”

“Move? Move where?”

The triplets turned and looked at him with shining brown eyes. They beamed at him, speaking in unison. “To our dorm silly!”

#Dragon Raja

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grace-lost-in-space · 3 years

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Therapy - “What a Dum-Dum”

With anxious hands, I clutch the letter to my professor which my therapist asked me to write last week. I did it. I was brave—or at least that is what people often call me. The dictionary defines B-R-A-V-E as: ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage. Courage? There is that word again, creeping up from the pits of my stomach into the back of my throat. I can almost say it, but not quite. My entire life has been spent preparing to endure danger or pain—it is what I do best. I am best defined by that very sentence. Perhaps my mom should have been more creative in naming me.

I take a deep breath before using all of my energy to open the door to the lobby of my therapist’s office. Doing so forces my body to immediately retaliate with a loud wheeze. When people tell me to “take a deep breath”, they often forget that I have asthma and a dangerously low BMI, so this so-called simple therapeutic technique wreaks havoc on my body but, like the rule-follower that I am, I do it anyway. The door lets out a loud squeal as I concentrate all of my weight on pulling it open. A kind of foreshadowing, perhaps, of what is about to take place.

“Hi, Grace. I’ll let Legs know you’re here.” I hear from behind the reception desk. Ms. Rita recites the exact same line every Monday and Wednesday. I smile—although, I have no idea if it is visible through my mask. I respond by waving politely because I have not truly spoken in 11 months. Through the dizziness which insists on accompanying me to each and every appointment, I make my way to my usual chair and I sit. I begin counting soon after and I get to 137 before my therapist arrives in the entryway and says “Grace.” After one year together, I still only know her by her shoes and her voice. As I stand unsteadily, I wonder about this trend with social workers wearing riding boots. Is this an unwritten rule of their ethical code? Is there some sort of advertisement during NASW conferences? “Invest in THESE fine leather boots and you won’t BELIEVE how much progress YOUR clients will make! Order now for $10 off. You may qualify for an additional discount if you have feathered hair. Offer not available in Alaska and Hawaii.” I make a mental note that I must research this more and find an answer because it is a common theme of every social worker who has walked into and out of my life. Cue “these boots are made for walkin’…” lyrics. I stop myself before it gets too cheesy.

I walk slowly behind her and after what feels like an hour, I make my way into her dimly lit office and find solace in my usual black leather chair. Although it squeaks, it has been faithful for the past twelve months and it has seen me through many meltdowns, remaining sturdy as I hide behind it. Like clockwork, it squeaks as I sit down and I decide to give it grace since, after all, it has been the most consistent thing in my life for the past year. My feeding tube pump begins to beep, signaling a low battery, so I take out my charger and begrudgingly plug myself into the nearest outlet. “So, Grace,” she starts “how are you? Did you write the letter to Dr. W?” I respond by shoving the now crinkled papers into her lap, happy to rid myself of the trauma that haunts the wide-ruled pages.

Legs and I sit in silence (see what I did there?) as she reads the letter which took me three days to write. I look to my right, at the dusty mahogany brown bookshelf which is adorned with a mixture of exactly 42 stuffed animals, toys, and action figures—my doing, of course. There was a day where an exhausted Legs decided it would be best for me to organize the shelves rather than doing any sort of processing—so I did just that and, in doing so, ruined a perfectly good pair of fishnet tights. But, I digress.

After what feels like a less than sufficient amount of time to read this trauma-filled nightmare of a letter, she hands it back to me and says “Okay. Here you go. You can do whatever you want with it.” I look at her god-awful work boots as if I am looking into her eyes and I express obvious confusion. In true selective mutism fashion, I remain silent but my facial expression speaks volumes. I hastily shove the letter back at her and write on my note pad “you keep it.” I wait. What am I waiting for? That is a great question and one which Legs is also clearly eager to know the answer to. “So, how is pumping going?” She asks. Again, I glare at the hideous riding boots, wholly confused. Did I just spend three days writing this letter and disclosing mounds of trauma for her to read it and hand it back to me with no intention of processing it? Yes. Yes, I did.

I look back to the bookshelf and re-count each and every item which remains beautifully organized if I do say so myself. I follow the rules again and force a deep breath before writing “Why did he do it? Why did he pick me? Why did he do this to me?” Almost immediately, she shoots back with “because it made him happy. He liked it.” I decide instantly that another deep breath is necessary and I question my insanity because surely no therapist would say what she just said to me. I remain still—a defense mechanism which I have learned is often useless. Continued silence looms over both of us like the beginning of a funnel cloud—eerily still but preparing to invoke chaos—until she asks “Why do you read Harry Potter books and watch the movies?” More silence. I begin to question how those boots do not yet have holes in them from my hazel laser pointers. She finally answers her own question, as my pen remains frozen in my hand. “Because you like it. It makes you happy.”

My mouth gapes open which, thankfully, is hidden behind my Peppa Pig mask. I glance over to my right at the wall from which my feeding tube pump is getting its power. I realize that in order to run, I will first have to unplug myself which would surely be anticlimactic if I were to be so unlucky as to tangle the cord or trip over it. Unplugging yourself from the wall and leaving a therapy session seems simple enough but when you are accident prone and have a history of falling into bushes and rolling down hills, you learn to be cautious and question everything. I look around the room. No bushes. No hills. Only me and Legs and those atrocious riding boots. I stare down at my platform converse shoes. I wonder to myself why I choose to wear these shoes each week. These shoes are not optimal for running and I am a runner, or at least I am categorized as such in dusty medical charts which exist somewhere in what I imagine to be a damp basement of a two-star hospital. I make a mental note to never wear platform shoes to therapy again.

As I continue with my silent existential crisis, Legs takes an early exit ramp and asks about the sucker from our last session—the one she handed me on my way out the door during my last session. “Did you practice eating the sucker?” She asks. I nod and smile, with tears beginning to form in my eyes. When I cry, my eyes turn from hazel to green. It is an easy task to recognize when I have been crying. I wonder if Legs has noticed this. She turns slightly to her right and reaches into her candy dish which sits on another dusty brown table. She grabs a pineapple flavored sucker and holds it up in front of my face. “Here” she insists. Pineapple? Are there creatures that enjoy pineapple flavored Dum-Dums? And, furthermore, why are they called Dum-Dums? Who chose that name? Who thought, “Aha! We shall call these…Dum-Dums”? Again, I digress.

“You don’t want to be weird, right? You told me you don’t want to be called weird. It would be normal to eat a sucker. Normal people eat suckers.” Enticed by the idea of being called “normal,” (a rare occurrence in my world), I oblige. After 27 seconds, I manage to unwrap the sucker and put it against my lips. “Just eat it.” She says. Once again, I glare at The Boots. I manage to put the sucker—in all its sugary, pineapple glory—in my mouth and leave it there for exactly three seconds before the sensation becomes too much to handle. I smile as a steady stream of warm tears flows down my cheeks. I consider this progress, since it is the longest I have ever been able to keep a sucker in my mouth. My smile grows wider as I recognize this small victory and I feel truly proud of myself.

“Eh…that was…okay…I guess. But it wasn’t a good job. You could just eat it but you won’t. When you eat the whole thing, that will be a good job.” She says. I immediately break into a full fledged sob and I wonder just how green my eyes must be at this point. I sob, and I sob, and I sob. It feels as though the tears are endless. My Peppa mask is now heavy from absorbing tears and snot. This must be attractive.

And, at that moment, I manage to stutter over a word. “L_____.” If you are new to this circus, L is my previous therapist and a fellow boot-wearing social worker. “What?” Legs asks, obviously confused.

My sobs grow louder. My brain wants to tell her that she is acting like L but my mouth refuses to function properly. I manage a hurried glance at my pump charger and I consider making a now-or-never break for it. I somehow sputter three words like a lemon on a used car lot. “Please…be…nice.” I say. It takes exactly 14.5 seconds for me to vocalize these three words but, again, it is progress.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying but you are doing a good job with your words” Legs promises.

Still sobbing, I try again. “L______.” I stutter on the L but it comes out clearly.

“What?” She asks.

“Mean” I say, choking back tears.

“Did you say mean?” She asks.

I nod for “yes.”

“Well, I’ve got another patient, so I guess—“ she starts.

I interrupt her by yanking my pump charger out of the wall. I do so without proper planning and I let out a loud cry. I am not typically a loud crier. I am quite proficient in the art of “quiet tears.” Enduring many, many nights of various people hurting me has taught me to improve upon this skill. I try my very best to stop drowning in my own tears. I can feel it happening the same way it happened with L.

And I run. And I run. And I run.

Because I AM good at something: running.

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verratensduo · 4 years

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Erejean week day 6//Gamers

Jean groaned as he worked on the set up for the day’s charity stream. He and Eren had decided to move in with each other six months prior. They met online through a game of golf with friends and fellow youtuber Marco Bodt. They hit it off initially as rivals and organized a bunch of one v one matches online in things like Halo and Call of Duty for their fans to watch, then they started collaborating and the next thing either of them new they where moving in together and forming an official team. Though both did their own individual videos as well. However, things like this where always a collaboration now, it got more people and more money donated to the charity that way.

Jean chuckled and patted the top of Eren’s dog Titan’s head. “Hey boy, I guess you know what is up huh?” Jean asked as he played somewhat with his pocket. It had been his and Eren’s little secret with only Titan and a few friend’s knew, he and Eren where indeed dating. If they reached their goal tonight for the domestic abuse hotline he would ask Eren to marry him right then and there on live stream. They had discussed it before, but the proposal was hopefully going to be a total surprise. “Shh, don’t tell Eren.” He moved a hand to his lips in a shushing manner and then let the dog dart off to tackle Eren when he came in the door from a quick battery run. They where not having their batteries die this time.

He snickered hearing Eren bust out laughing and beg the dog to stop licking him after tackling him and getting him where he wanted him. Jean did debate saving Eren from Titan, but decided against it. He had stuff to set up still, and he wasn’t going to lie, it was kind of hilarious seeing Eren reduced to a laughing mess by a giant animal.

Eren must have managed to escape and wipe his face off because he was suddenly behind Jean with a playful irritated look on his face.

“Thanks a lot, you are an amazing roommate.” He said somewhat teasingly and somewhat sarcastically. “In all seriousness you are lucky I was able to escape him, we don’t have time for me to get a shower before we are set to start. I got the pie for one of us ready in the kitchen, you have the games and the trivia game at the halfway point picked out right?”

Jean nodded. “Of course, I am not incompetent Eren.” He teased.

“Awesome, let’s get this show on the road.” Eren fist pumped and they both sat down to do their respective intros. They had decided to try a few dual player five nights at freddy’s multiplayer fan games to try and do some unity stuff, at one point they even hooked up the wii and did Wii Party’s couples test, they got an “F” rate and laughed about it. Like that knew anything about them anyways.

Then it was onto some sports trivia with Armin as the host.

Everything went so fast and it came down to a tie breaker round, one final question.

“Alright you two, and here is our tie breaking question, when did Muhammad Ali win his first world championship? The time limit is thirty seconds, on your mark, get set, go!”

Eren clicked his buzzer button first. Jean should have seen that coming, Eren was a combat sports expert and fanatic, even having done wrestling in high school and martial arts throughout his life to stay fit.

“Muhammad Ali won his first world championship on February 25th, 1964.” Eren confidently told the world, as Armin did his fact check thing and looked up floored.

“That is correct Eren, that is when he won it. You won the trivia off.” It was only then Armin realized Eren had only disapeared and laughed while staying on over skype. He had to see this first hand. the pie to Jean’s face that was coming so quickly.

Jean only had a few moments really with how fast he knew Eren would be. He took a deep breath and braced himself for the impact of being pied right to the face after Eren was done and came back.

Eren was of course back in a flash, the pie went in his face within two seconds of Eren coming up to him and there was some mechanical laughter from Eren whil Armin laughed, contributed three hundred dollars to the charity stream and left as Eren and Jean cleaned up.

They now moved onto one v one games in a few online shooters before it was finally time to look and see what the grand total was. $2,5000 dollars and Eren jumped for joy.

“We did it guys! We exceeded the goal! And with that, it is time to say good bye for no-”

“No it’s not, not yet.” Jean turned Eren towards him with a smile. He then looked to the camera real quick. “Okay, so you guys are all up to date, Eren and I have been dating since I moved in with him....and I have probably the most important question of my life to ask him.” He then ran a hand through his hair and gave a somewhat nervous smile.

“Eren, my whole world changed the day I met you. And for the better. Everyday has been something new and exciting. I actually look forward to waking up and seeing what shinanigans you have gotten yourself into, and I want that to continue for ever.” Now Jean started sinking to one knee. “What I am trying to say is, Eren Yeager, would you do me the honor of allowing me to marry the most interesting man I have ever met, you?” Jean now waited somewhat nervously, for what was probably a few seconds, but felt like an eternity.

“Yes Jean, I will marry you.” Eren said tears rolling down his cheeks as Jean slipped the ring over his finger and slowly stood up kissing Eren and gently swaying with him as the live stream ended.

This was them now, and forever.

#erejean week 2020 #erejean week #erejean #eren yeager #jean kirstien #my writing #day 6 #gamers

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ikesenhell · 5 years

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Decorate Time

You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: I realized when @angstprincessnaga mentioned it that I haven’t written anything significant for Sasuke in QUITE SOME TIME. Have this as penance.

He liked music. He liked music just fine, honestly, though he couldn’t say that the brief time he’d spent in band class had done much more than provide him hours of daydreams for what he could do with a bit of force, a tuba, and various objects. Lab work never was the right space for it. Certainly, they had a small bluetooth speaker that they’d cobbled together a protective shield for, but he’d certainly never used it. There was serenity in the silence.

In that sense, the Sengoku wasn’t so unnerving (though sometimes everything was too silent--he’d never realized how accustomed he was to elevator music). Wind and the bubbling streams and the echo in mountain passes didn't bother him. Quiet was a friend of his.

Sasuke embraced it.

Four years of that sort of stillness, and she interrupted it in the way that only she could: on accident. They’d stolen a moment together in Azuchi when she turned and grinned at him.

“Guess what I’ve got.”

Sasuke couldn’t guess, so he didn't. “Tell me.”

Triumphant, she wriggled an iPod from her purse and wriggled it at him. “It still has battery.”

He blinked. After all these years of its absence, his brain struggled to reacclimate to the idea that, yes, Apple as a company existed. “Does it? What do you have on there?”

She laughed and shook her head, rubbing her thumb across its screen. “Honestly, I’d wiped it and was going to upload a bunch of new music when I moved here. I only really had stuff to listen to on the plane--relaxing music, that kind of thing.”

“You don’t like heights,” he noted aloud, more monotone than he meant. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“I miss just listening to things,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the screen. Sometimes, Sasuke was very glad he’d never taken anatomy. Now was one of those times. The way her body moved made him believe in magic and design. “But I don’t wanna just play it for no reason.”

“No?”

“Nah. I’m gonna save it for something. I don’t know what yet, but it’ll be good.”

He watched her store the device safely back in her purse, sunlight dappling over her hair, brushing the back of her neck with solar fingers. The sight alone had him quoting half-remembered Shakespeare to himself: As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright, that birds would sing and think it were not night...

She was staring at him.

“You good?” She asked.

“Perfectly,” he responded, and wondered if he always heard music around other people. That would be an interesting investigation.

---

Some nights, he snuck out of Kasugayama and Kenshin’s reach to sit alone on the battlements. No one bothered him there. Few saw him. Four years he’d spent doing it, thinking all manner of things--charting the movement of the stars, marveling at the planets, conducting minor investigations or writing notations from the day.

Now he thought a lot about geography and music.

Once he’d heard it said that art decorated space, but music decorated time. And time! He’d learned so much about it and nothing at all in one. Where the scientist in him fell away and he was left with just himself, just Sasuke, he just sat in awe of its expanse--and the way it separated him from her. That was what lay between them, after all. Distance and time. Azuchi was many miles away, and while the landscape was art enough, the wind wasn’t nearly enough to waste the relentless hours necessary to get to her.

It wasn’t enough. There were so, so, so few and limited hours in a lifetime, moments he could never retrieve or retrace or remake, and here he was, wishing away some of them just to be closer faster.

Sometimes he thought about that iPod. He wondered what she listened to on it, what she considered worthy of spending the valuable minutes of her life enjoying. Was it classical? Did she listen to Mozart, Debussy, Chopin? Was it lo-fi? Sasuke shut his eyes and imagined her humming along. The cool wind swept over his cheek, and he imagined it was her sighing softly against the background of Clair De Lune, or Jeux D’eau, or The Girl With the Flaxen Hair.

He was humming it too.

Somewhere behind him in Kasugayama, a great shout went up from the party he was missing. Sasuke folded his legs together and tuned them out, holding onto a memory of Debussy’s Arabesque and envisioning her under the stars with him.

---

“I want to take you somewhere.”

She peered up from her sewing, the candlelight fluttering low over her cheeks. “Oh? Where?”

He just shook his head and held out his hand. “Do you trust me enough to come anyway? It’s a surprise.”

“Of course!”

In a bundle of hissed laughter and soft feet, they snuck from Azuchi and down through the township--past the cherry blossoms and the shuttered market, past Yuki’s room in the tavern and all the Warlord’s houses, past the walls to the city and toward the lake. Its glassy surface reflected the stars so perfectly that, when they sat on the shore, the line between sky and earth all but disappeared. A silver moon hung over them like a lantern.

But her smile. Oh, that smile put it all to shame. She shivered, and without thinking, Sasuke stripped off his haori and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven-- He offered her a small smile and patted the ground. “Shall we?”

Together, they sat in silence. The heavens rotated slowly above them. Sasuke pointed out planets and constellations in whispers, their fingers brushing against one another as they lay, knuckle-to-knuckle on the grass. When she teased her pinky finger out toward him, he linked his without a word. Not that she needed to secure it--he’d been wrapped around her little finger for longer than he liked to admit. Even so it set his soul on fire.

“Oh,” she sighed eventually. “I wish I’d brought the iPod.”

Sasuke blinked and shoved his glasses back up. “Should I sing?”

She blinked right back. “Can you sing?”

“No,” he admitted. “I can’t.”

She belted a laugh. To his heart, it sounded like Gymnopedie no. 1. “It’s okay. I’ve a better thought.”

“What’s that?”

He held his breath as she sat up in the grass, up until her knees nested with his and her chin was level with his and her fingers entwined with his. How could he risk ruining it, especially when he could still hear the soft strains of piano by her will and life alone? Moonlight glanced silver over her mouth.

Sasuke heard himself swallow.

Then her hand was on his cheek, her fingertips against his lips, and he kissed her thumb without meaning to--if only to experiment and discover what she tasted like before it went away. Repeat study is always better, he thought, and as if she heard him, she dipped forward--ah.

Ah, she tasted like music.

Now this--this was how to decorate time.

They parted. Every inch of him craved more--and grace of graces, she tilted back in and sent shivers like shockwaves to his heart. He wasn’t a musical man, but hell, her mouth made him one. When at last she pulled away again, he reached out and dragged his hand over her shoulder as if to affirm she was real in the first place.

“Do you think the iPod might’ve made that better?” He deadpanned.

She giggled. “Not really.”

“Oh,” Sasuke commented, ignoring the desperate urge to fist pump in victory, “Just thought I’d ask.”

Her hair parted forgivingly around his fingers; he carded a hand through and pulled her back in, willing the music of her never to stop.

#Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen Sasuke #my writing #Sasuke Sarutobi #Decorate Time #fluff

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mad-hatter-ison · 5 years

Photo

Sillyvision Presents Resurrected from the Blotter

A Bendy AU by me: Mad-Hatter-ison. All rightfully belong to theMeatly and Joey Drew Studios

Bg Note: Hi guys, well this be the first time I posted about my own Bendy story. I am planning to make an art comic version of this, for now I am typing the story. This may be the introduction/prologue, but I hope you guys love it.

Introduction

Many of you heard of the tale of a hero fighting against a ferocious monster who torture people til death because it can. Many of you also witness battle after battle of which will gain victory or defeat.

But what if the hero is tired of fighting? What if the hero doesn't want to be a hero? What if the beast doesn't want to continue its fate of hurting others and rather helping and live at peace with them? What if there's no hero nor villian?

However even with that playing a part, this story isn't about them. This twisted fantasy of monsters, sorcerers, and demons circling around to pounce is about me...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Madison," I looked up from my computer desk to see my boss standing towards me, "I know you have a lot to cover, but you're already over your shift, do you think it's best to get ready to head home?"

I turn back to my computer screen of a ton of tech paperwork and piles of accounting invoices, then back at her, "I think I need a longer shift, ma'm. I need to get everything sorted out after the new year."

"I will think about it," my boss sighed, "But head home and get some rest over the weekend." I sighed back and got up, packing my bag and tying my blue scarf around my neck. I waved good bye to some of the co workers in the Accounting office, clocked out the shift time with a card, then left the building and towards my car on a very cloudy day.

I look up at the building and sigh once again as I opened the car door; I knew I could've just head home and relax for the rest of the day, but I just couldn't. Of course overworking is unhealthy, but whenever there's a file on my desk or if I ever think of an idea to draw or sketch, I'm always determined I get them done towards the end of the day or the week.

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I started the car, turn on some music on my phone, and drove home. After I set foot inside of my home, I can see my mom preparing her make-up for a sport event. "I'm home, Mom." I spoke.

She turned and smiled, "Welcome back, sweetie. How was work?" I replied, "Well, the tech and new year paperwork are trying to kill me."

I place my work bag on an office desk as I heard my mother spoke, "Well, I'm sure you'll get them done, you are a hard working young lady." "Yeah, a hard working lady who's trying to get everything done and will not stop til everything is done." I spoke with my eyes rolled.

"Madison," I heard my mom walked to me, "I know it's difficult, but there's no need to stress yourself, it isn't healthy." "I'm trying, but no matter how I tried, it just kept growing and I couldn't keep up." I spoke as I can hear my dad walking downstairs.

"Hey dad." I changed the subject. "Hey there Madi," He replied as he ruffled my dark brown hair, "How was work?" "Madison is stressing out." My mom interrupted as I tried to cover my issue.

"Madison, I know this job can be stressful and you need to get everything done, it happens to the best of us," my dad said, "But your boss is nice enough to make sure you work and relax at the same time."

I looked down, knowing he could be right; but it's difficult trying to get eveything done because I always feared of getting fired or being a failure to both of my parents.

In a while I see them heading towards the door as my mother said, "Are you sure you won't come see the game?" "I'm sure mom, I can handle this." I replied. After one more hug from my mom, I watched their car drove off, leaving me at home.

I spent almost an hour watching old time cartoon films, jealous for the fact they can get everything done no problem and survive a fatal injury without leaving a scratch or a consequence.

Part of me just wish my life can be more convenient as the cartoons I watched.

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It was not too long when my stomach started growling and remembered there's barely anything to make; so I turned off the tv, grabbed my bag and keys to lock my front door, then head back to the car to drive towards the nearest grocery store.

It was already starting to downpour as I finished shopping and the traffic became busier and busier like working bees. I groaned, knowing there has to be a quickest way home than being stuck in sea of cars for the rest of the evening. So I checked a GPS on my phone and found the quickest way back.

Following the directions, I ended up driving towards the smaller part of the suburban area where everything is surrounded by trees and nature. But as I drive, I see a flash with a boom sound as lightning strikes a nearby tree, causing it to fall and blocked my way. I was hoping to stop the car, but as I stomped on the break it was already too late.

Despite the rain, I got out of the car and see the upper right of it was damaged by the tree. I sigh and reached for my phone inside the car to call my parents, but I noticed the low battery signal flashing at me. I panicked because it isn't safe to wait inside the car to let my phone charge and I can't wait outside in the freezing rain. “At least, there has to be a place I can wait out the storm...”

Just my luck there it was, a one story house with the lights on inside. I grabbed my bag and groceries and raced towards the front door.

I knocked and rang the door bell, but no reply. I tried to knock once more, but felt the door opening on itself. I peeked inside and saw no one's here, no sign of the owner. I wanted to stay there, but the wind and rain were both pushing harder that I didn't have a choice, but to jump inside.

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I looked around the building and everything looked old fashion from the box television to the old movie posters. I looked up one of them and tilt my head in curiosity, Bendy in Little Devil Darling.

“Who's Bendy?” I thought as I stared at the old poster of a gloved hand.

I looked around again to find the owner of the building, calling out for any sign for them, but no reply again. However as I looked around, I begin seeing some drawings on a desk and pictures of what appears to be two gentleman with a drawing of a character at the middle.

One man has brown eyes and dark brown hair in a ponytail, while his friend has blue eyes, dark navy hair, and glasses. I looked at the character in curiosity, showing what appears to be a round demon with a white bow-tie and gloves, grinning from ear to ear.

I shook my head a bit and went back to feast my eyes on the sketches the owner done. I raised a brow when I thought that they were some of the most bizarre ones I ever witnessed.

One was a woman with horns and half of her face was scribbled up, the second involves a dog who looked ten times human size and monstrous, third and fourth have two strange men , one has a camera head and the other was wearing some kind of mask; and for what caught my attention the most was the same cartoon demon from the picture, but taller, leaner, and ooze covered his face that turn his innocent looking smile menacingly.

I decided the best to ignore and not ask about the drawings and explore a bit until I find the owner of this curious home. Even if I chose to ignore, the images of the four bizarre beings were stuck in my thoughts.

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I then saw an outlet on the kitchen counter close to the wall and with relief, I pulled out my phone charger connected to my phone and plugged it in to see it charging. That was when I noticed the thing behind me.

I turned around and saw something big, metallic rectangle shaped poking out from one room across the kitchen. With all the curiosity I have, I walked towards the room to take a closer look.

What I saw was some kind of machine or contraption iced with stains and rust. It all came with a spout, a pump, and what appears to be a leaking container with a label spelled 'Ink.'

I knelt down to study the decade old machine, only for my hand to feel something cold and wet. I looked up and noticed my left hand touched the top of the machine that is flooded with the flowing container.

I shivered and got up while walking across the room again towards the kitchen sink to wash it off. But despite being wet and there for a few seconds, the ink barely comes off, not even a little. I kept trying to scrub it off, even with a sponge, but no avail.

I was about to panic, but then I begin to hear such a strange sound...whistling... Not like some train or metal whistle, but someone whistling a happy tune, coming through a door between the kitchen and the back room with the machine.

"That got to be the owner!" I thought again.

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I walked towards the door and knock on the door while listening to the tune. However it wasn't getting louder towards the door, more going back and becoming silent as if he didn't hear me.

Without a second thought, I opened the door and look inside a very dark hallway instead of what suppose to be the backyard or a garage.

I looked around and held my bag tightly after taking a breath then walk inside the dark hall in hopes of finding the owner.

Little do I figure that as soon as I step inside that dark hallway, what leads out will immediately change my life forever more...

#Batim #Bendy au #Bendy and the Ink Machine #introduction #Batim au #Resurrected from the Blotter

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writing-promps-for-us-blog · 6 years

Text

It’s 3 am. An official phone alert wakes you up and it says “Do not look at the moon”. You have hundreds of notifications of random numbers saying “It’s a beautiful night tonight. Look outside.”

One second I’m sleeping, peacefully and dreaming of when I can leave my parents house finally and have a little cheap house to rent for my dog and I. The next? I’m staring at my phones dimly lit up screen, noting that the brightness of it may be at 0% but it was still blinding in the dead of night. I realize that it’s an emergency alert setting my phone off, in the same bright red and white colours of the Amber Alerts I’ll occasionally get.

“Don’t look at the moon?” I mumble sleepily to myself, “why does it matter if I decide to stargaze or not?”

I close the alert and roll over, deciding to attempt to go back to sleep and ignore the alert I received. But not soon after, my phone starts to go off again. I try to ignore it, and continue on with my plan to go to sleep, but the vibrating doesn’t stop. Flustered, I sit up and angrily grab my phone to see who it is that’s keeping me awake. Only to find out that I have no clue who anyone is, they’re all unsaved or unknown numbers, texting me and telling me to look outside. The messages don’t slow down, just keep pouring in from all these unknown people. Scared that my phone may freeze up, I pop off the back and take the battery out to shut it down.

“What the hell is going on?” I look over to my dog, he’s still curled up in a ball sound asleep. Perks of having a deaf dog? Not easily awoken by annoying noises. “Man, aren’t you a lucky one” I tell him while getting up to search for my laptop, hoping that the internet might have some answers as to what’s going on.

After a few minutes of searching, and finally finding my laptop underneath my art portfolio, I sit back down on my bed and turn it on. Listening to the whirring of the small machine coming to life, I realize that through my open window, the outside world seemed...silent. Too silent, no crickets chirped, no gentle breezes rustled through the nearby trees, even my neighbors dog who constantly barked was silent. Something wasn’t right, coming to that realization sent a shiver down my spine and made my hands cold and clammy. I open the web browser and start my search by typing “moon phenomena” into the browser, hoping that it would bring something up. It started to load, but then it soon crashed. Puzzled, I closed the browser and started it up again. Thinking that perhaps it was just an internet connection problem, but only to be failed when I had the same result. Again, and again, and again. Out of fear, and slight frustration, I slam my laptop shut and sit on my bed in the darkness. Looking over to my phone, I pick it up tentatively.

“Maybe if I respond to one of the numbers asking what’s going on, they’ll respond?”

Popping the battery back into place, I power on my phone. The messages hadn’t stopped, as I was still receiving them. I quickly tapped reply on the first number that popped up and typed in “why should i”. To my surprise, I actually got a response. And then that’s when the mass messaging stopped.

Why shouldn’t you? It’s a beautiful night out. The moon looks gorgeous tonight, not a cloud to be seen

“What’s different about tonight compared to every other night?”

Find out for yourself

Biting my lip, I debate on looking out my window. Terrified of what I may or may not see, and realizing just how silent the world around me sounded now that my phone was no longer going crazy. I took a deep breath and looked over to my dog, gently petting his black and white fur that made up the bridge of his muzzle. He let out a deep sigh and sleepily opened his eyes to look at me, his blue eye looking ghostly white in the small dark room while his brown eye seemed to be a black hole in his face.

“Hey buddy, I didn’t mean to wake you” I whisper to him, “just go back to sleep okay?” Just then, the first noise to come from outside happens. It sounded as if someone was trying to quietly open the back gate, which was impossible to do. I quickly grabbed my dog and got away from the open window as fast as I could. Granted, yes I may have been on the second floor but that did nothing to soothe the overwhelming panic I felt growing in my chest. I shoved my dog into my closet and joined him, quickly and quietly closing the door. My dog seemed extremely confused as to what was going on, and curiously sniffed at the bottom of the door, to which I grabbed his collar and moved him away from in order to make the room silent again. After what seemed like forever, there were no more sounds to be heard. I cracked the door open slightly, using my legs to keep my dog in the closet so he wouldn’t potentially cause any sounds, searching my room and seeing nothing nearby, I quickly glance out my window. Big mistake. What I saw that returned my gaze was not something that was human, it wasn’t possible. Grey-blue skin, four large eyes and a mouth full of teeth is what I saw on the other side of the screen to my window. It let out a horrid high pitched scream of some sort, so high pitched that even my deaf dog reacted to it.

The creature shoved a long-clawed hand through the screen and proceeded to climb into my room, still letting out it’s shrill call. I gasped and pulled the door shut once again, not letting go of the handle in order to make sure that it stayed shut. Scratching and clawing soon found the surface of the solid wood door, adrenaline was now pumping through my veins as my fight-or-flight response was kicking in. I couldn’t leave though, my closet was just big enough to fit my dog, who was now curled up into a tight little ball at my feet and shaking, and myself. There was no way I could run, that would require somehow getting past the screeching creature. To make matters worse, my parents hadn’t come in yet to complain about the noise or see what the commotion was about, which made me fear for the worse. The only think I had in my closet that could remotely be used as a weapon were the empty wire hangers I had hanging up. Using one hand, I grabbed one and prepared to shove the door open into my intruder in order to find a path to get out of the house. I had to get to safety somehow, and if I stayed here I had no idea what would happen. Bracing myself, I shove the door open and raise up the hanger in an attack. Only to realize that...there was nothing in my room anymore. It was trashed and torn apart, as if there had been more than one of the creature and they ransacked my room. The hole in my window was still there, suddenly there was a bright light in my face coming from outside, this was accompanied by a loud voice.

“Government Officials, come to the window and we’ll get you out”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned around to pick up my dog and froze. His white fur was now stained a dark cranberry-red, and in my place where I once stood in the closet stood...me? I had the same grey-blue skin as the creature did, my eyes were now as dark as the creatures and it smiled at me, with sickeningly long sharp teeth. It held up a hand that had long sharp claws that were dripping with a dark liquid, which I can only guess belonged to my beloved companion. My eyes widened in terror as I turned back around and sprinted towards my window. As my hand landed on the window sill, a sudden sharp pain was felt through my chest. Slowly, I looked down and saw the hand of the creature protruding through my chest. I looked to the officials that were still shining the light on my window, their guns aimed at whatever the being was behind me. As the hand retreated back through my chest, I felt my body go limp and I fell through the window. The last thing I saw was the night sky.

‘Wow, it really is beautiful out tonight’ was the last thought I had in my head before it all faded to black

The original writing prompt belongs to writing.prompt.s, I hope you all enjoy!

#scifi #prompt #writing #blog #writing prompt #story #short story #scifi stories

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iamindeedasmartypants · 6 years

Text

Paris, Ch. 3

A/N: Things get a little tense at a party. Warnings: none

Eugene wasn’t stupid in any capacity- he knew he had overstepped a fine line, and that Kimi was avoiding him. He’d catch sight of her all over Alexandria, going on runs with Glenn, helping Maggie with chores, or hanging out with Tara and Denise, but every time he tried to catch her for more than a minute, she’d excuse herself politely and disappear. It was frustrating, to say the least, but Eugene was determined. He had lied his way up the coast and succeeded, surely he could lie his way out of this one. The only problem was, in order to convince her he didn’t have feelings for her, he needed to get her to talk to him at all.

What was ideally easy was quite difficult in practicality. For as stubborn as Eugene was about the situation, Kimi was just as stubbornly pretending nothing had ever happened. Since she didn’t seem to want conversation, he focused on the one last thing he had, and set to work.

The iPod she had given him was, by all definitions of the word, fucked. Apocalypse not withstanding, the Apple store itself would have advised her to give it up and buy a new one, but Eugene couldn’t help hearing her words replay in his head that it was a sentimental item. He wondered why as he turned it over in his large hands, taking a screwdriver to the tiny screws holding the device together. The first few things he tried didn’t work, but he was patient. It took him two days, but finally, in the dim hours of Friday morning, the low battery screen blinked to life. Satisfied with himself, Eugene plugged in the charger he had scavenged from the kitchen and turned the light off, determined to return it to Kimi when he woke up.

When he reached the wall hours later, however, Kimi wasn’t there. “Tara,” he greeted the other woman, who looked down at him through her sunglasses. “Where’s Kimi? I have an item of her personal interest in my possession I’d like to return to her.”

Tara shrugged. “She went off with Evan somewhere. Do you want me to give it to her? I’ll see her tonight.”

“Negative,” Eugene answered, then added, “Why?” He knew the girls were friendly, but he didn’t realize they were that friendly. He supposed there were a lot of things he didn’t know about Kimi in actuality, something that made him a bit uncomfortable, given how much she knew about him. He often wondered about her as they lay together post-coitus: what her favorite color was, what she was allergic to, what she thought was the, quote, “coolest thing ever” when she was little, but her answer to any question was always the same, “I don’t do personal questions.” He supposed enigma was hot on her, when it wasn’t downright exasperating.

“One of the guys is throwing a party. Denise is friends with him, and I guess he has the hots for Kimi, I don’t know. She said she’d be there.” Eugene must have made a face, because Tara pushed her sunglasses down her nose to get a better look at him. “What the hell is going on with you two anyway?”

“That’s classified,” Eugene mumbled, but Tara started laughing.

“You’re blushing. Damn Eugene, have you got a crush on her?”

More than a crush, he thought dryly, but he wasn’t about to tell Tara the situation he got himself into. “I’m glad to see you find my predicament to your amusement.”

“Don’t be like that.” She finally pulled herself together, but she was still smirking. “Hey, maybe mullets are her thing. You should tell her. She seems like she likes to have a, uh, good time.” The giggles took over again, and Eugene’s expression darkened.

“Tara.”

“Sorry, sorry. If you do decide to go all ‘Say Anything’ on her, it’s the gray house by the south fence, nine o’clock. Maybe I’ll see you there?”

“Maybe.”

He spent a good part of the afternoon debating with himself- right up the moment he showed up on the street the party was being held on. Even if Tara hadn’t told him which house to look for, it wouldn’t have been hard to find thanks to the bass of loud music pumping inside, and the string of people drinking on the lawn. As he walked up the driveway he wondered how long it would be until Deanna shut the party down for the noise. The front door was open, and he walked in, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. It took several minutes to maneuver through the throng of people that were seemingly everywhere, looking for Kimi or Tara. He finally found them in the last room, and Denise was the first to spot him from where she was nestled on a loveseat with Tara. “Hey Eugene!” She called, causing the other two girls to look at him as well.

“Hello,” he greeted casually, as if he hadn’t just crashed a party he definitely wasn’t invited to. He could see Tara was trying not to laugh, but he was too distracted by Kimi to react to it. “Why are you wet?”

“I was thrown in the pool,” she answered, frowning at him. She was sitting on the back of the couch in wet shorts and a bikini top that barely covered her, her long hair leaving drips on the couch every time she moved. She had an unopened beer bottle in her hand. For some reason, his mind drifted to what she would look like in the shower with him, and he had to quickly avert his gaze and start thinking about walkers instead. “What are you doing he-“

“Kimi was just telling us about herself,” Tara interrupted, glancing between them. She gestured to the empty spot on Kimi’s loveseat, the one nearest to herself. “Want to join us?” He could feel Kimi staring a hole through him as he sat next to her, pointedly not meeting her gaze. She was too busy staring at him to notice Tara elbow Denise for help.

“So what did you do before the walkers?” Denise ventured, rising to Tara’s bait, though it was clear she didn’t understand the full situation. Eugene had never been more thankful for Tara’s interference- had he asked such a question, Kimi would have shut him down immediately.

“Odd jobs here and there, mostly.” She dug a nail under her beer’s label, peeling off a shiny strip. She was distracted, at least momentarily, from Eugene. “Waitress, cashier, barista- nothing too permanent. I’d either get bored and stop showing up or they’d fire me for one reason or another. I wanted to apprentice to become a tattoo artist, but walkers sort of put a kink in that.”

“Really?” Whatever Tara had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Eugene leaned back in his seat, risking a glance upwards. Kimi was still picking at the label.

“Yeah. I was shit in school, so there was no way in hell that I could have gone to college. I was always good at art, though, and I like to draw.” She pulled up her shorts slightly to show Tara her phoenix tattoo. “I drew it, but I obviously didn’t ink it. That’s how I fell in love with the artistry, though. I always wanted to get more, or hell, to ink my own, but I guess I’ll have to settle for ball point pen tattoos now.”

Eugene had stared at that tattoo so many times, committing it to memory, but he had never had any idea that she had been the one to draw it. “You are quite talented,” he ventured, causing her to glance at him.

“Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment, as if she was about to say something else, but she changed her mind. “My parents flipped,” she laughed with a mischievous grin, shaking her head. “You would have thought I’d been selling myself on the street corner, the way my mother carried on. She wouldn’t talk to me for a solid month afterward. I tried to talk Glenn into getting one too, but he chickened out.” She rolled her eyes. “I think he was just afraid of what mom would say, her precious only son ‘defiling’ himself like that.” She took a swig of her beer. “At least with me, she had another daughter she could pin her hopes and dreams on.”

“You and Glenn have a sister?” Tara asked curiously. Eugene would have missed the shadow that fell over Kimi’s face if he hadn’t been looking right then, but she composed herself quickly enough.

“We did. Her name was Sue. We escaped Atlanta together after the initial outbreak- our parents were dead, Glenn had moved out of the family home years before and we had no idea where he was. We travelled together for a while, but when we found Maggie’s note to Glenn about Terminus…. well. We didn’t know it was our brother, but we didn’t know it wasn’t, either, so we decided why not? It wasn’t like we had anything else to do. They killed her, but I got away. It was dumb luck I ended up at Hilltop and they knew where Glenn was, so here I am.” She twisted a lock of wet hair around her finger, watching the way the light played off of it. “It’s so weird, you know? My sister drove me crazy my entire life- we fought all the time. I was always closer to Glenn, but now that she’s gone, I miss her. I miss her nagging at me, I miss that weird laugh of hers, I just… I miss her.”

“Oh wow,” Tara said softly, but she was cut off by Eugene. “I’m sorry, Kimi.”

It earned a soft smile from her, and she shrugged. “Hazards of the world we live in now, am I right?” She slid off the back of the couch, landing on the cushion next to him and sloshing a little beer out of her bottle. She licked the drops from her fingertips, and Eugene had to think once more of the walkers, wondering if she had done it on purpose. It was hard to tell with Kimi. “What about you? What goes on behind that mullet of yours?”

“Uhh… pardon?”

“Did I stutter?” She teased him, turning in her seat. She stretched her legs over his lap, smirking at how uncomfortable he looked. Tara and Denise exchanged a look. “You just heard part of my life story, I think that means I get some of yours.”

“I’d hardly think I’m as interesting as all that.”

“I’ll be the judge. We’ll even make it a game. You answer a question of my choosing, I’ll answer one of yours.” There was no doubt in his mind, she was fucking with him now, exacting some sort of creative revenge on him crashing her party. Still, it was the first time Kimi had ever volunteered anything to him, and he would be remiss if he didn’t take it. “All right.” He swallowed, well aware that her feet were in his lap, leaving damp spots on his cargo shorts from her wet skin.

Tara, sensing something was going on that she wasn’t privy to, grabbed Denise’s hand. “We’re going to go get another drink.”

Kimi watched them go before returning her gaze to Eugene. “Where are you from?”

“Houston.” It was an easy enough question, and he didn’t see any point in lying. “Who is Evan?” Alexandria wasn’t a huge place, but Eugene didn’t know everyone in the refuge- and even more, he didn’t know where he stood in comparison to the man she had supposedly spent the afternoon.

She raised a brow, but when she spoke, her tone was even. “Another of the wall guards. What were you before all this?”

“I was a chemistry teacher.” A bitter part of himself wished he had kept his initial lie going- he couldn’t get her attention now, but if he was still the man that was going to save the world? Oh, he had no doubt that would have her looking twice. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Yes. Does it matter?”

“No.” He lied, but she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’re lying,” she stated, her lips twisting into a frown. He shook his head, but he felt like she could see right through him. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” he returned her words pettily. She sighed.

“Why?” She pressed again.

“My feelings for you have not exactly been kept under wraps.”

“I told you that I wasn’t interested in anything even remotely like a relationship.” She had, it was true, but that didn’t make it any easier. Eugene hadn’t exactly planned on any of this, but it had happened regardless, and as smart as he was, he had no idea how to make any of it stop.

“Why?”

“Have you looked around recently?” She laughed humorlessly. “The dead are up and walking, our friends and family are joining them at a rapid pace, and you want to- what? Date? Go to a movie in someone’s basement, enjoy a cupcake together? If that’s not absurd enough, what happens after that? Marriage? Kids? Do you really want to raise a family in this?”

Her words stung, and Eugene swallowed his own caustic retort. “You’d rather shut yourself away from all of it then?”

“No, but-“ He didn’t get a chance to hear her answer, as someone appeared in the doorway.

“Kimi?” The man said, startling both of them. Eugene surmised this was probably Evan, and judging by the way he was looking at them, he didn’t seem to be very happy that Kimi was closeted away with Eugene, her feet still on his lap. “I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

“You found me.” It was hard to tell what Kimi was thinking, and Eugene looked back and forth between her and the other man, who was pointedly staring at him. She moved to stand up, placing her empty bottle on the table.

“What are you doing? Who’s he?”

“Dr. Eugene Porter,” Eugene introduced himself. He was no stranger to inflated male ego, or being on the receiving end of it, but he did not like the way this guy was looking at Kimi, as if she had done something wrong.

“Evan, stop.” The impatience was evident in Kimi’s tone, and there was a faint flush underneath her freckles that Eugene was fairly certain had nothing to do with alcohol.

“Why’s he here?” Evan’s tone was rising slightly, and Eugene had little doubt that he was drunk.

“It would seem that you and I share an affinity with one, Kimi Rhee.” He was antagonizing him, but it wasn’t quite fair. Kimi wasn’t snapping at Evan like she did him for being presumptuous, but why should she? Evan was built- tall, blonde, athletic. It was easy to picture him playing soccer with the boys on the weekend, or taking his girl for a drive into the sticks to fool around. He was everything Eugene wasn’t, and everything a girl like Kimi should want.

“For fuck’s sake, Evan. Can we just go?”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on- are you fucking him?”

“Jesus Christ, what is with you two? Get it through your thick heads, gentlemen- neither of you own me. So what if I’m fucking him? I’m fucking you, too. It’s never been a fucking secret!” Eugene flinched at her sharp tone, but Evan wasn’t cowed. If anything, it just seemed to piss him off more.

“What the fuck, Kimi?”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Eugene was just as surprised by his own voice as the other two were, and for a second, nobody said anything.

“What did you just say to me?” Evan’s face was bright red as his blood pressure rose, but Eugene stood his ground.

“She is a lady, she deserves respect.”

“She’s… she’s no fucking lady, she’s a goddamn whore, and how dare you fucking butt into my business. I’m going to teach you some fucking manners.” He moved towards Eugene, his hands balled into fists. Neither Eugene or Evan could have predicted what came next, however, as Kimi stepped between them and clocked Evan clean in the nose, then gave him a kick in the balls for good measure. Blood poured down his face as he fell to the floor, and she shook her hand gingerly. “Lay a finger on him and I’ll rip them off next time,” she said calmly, shaking her hand out. She headed to the door, pausing to look over her shoulder at Eugene. “Are you coming or what?”

@eugenessix

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ragmword · 4 years

Text

Still Only A Nickel

The looks had changed but the location and function remained the same. It was a two pump service station then and a two pump service station now. Ethyl and Regular had been replaced by two state of the art electronic charging units. The new devices delivered electricity to batteries as opposed to gasoline filling a tank. The service station had become modern in every sense except one.

No one knew for sure when the Coke machine appeared in front of the station. The vintage and oral history suggested that it was some time no later than the 1920’s. Yet there it stood, watching history unfold.

According to the present owner, a truck would show up weekly, fill up the machine, pick up the empties and disappear. The profits would be credited to his bank account monthly. All very correct and professional. The bright red and white machine was always full and ready to dispense an ice cold ten ounce bottle of Coca-Cola.

Way back when, the bottles tended to have a green tint. Most of the time now they’re clear. The colour of the bottle however, in no way diminished the experience when the bottle touched your lips.

You take a hot, a mean a hot humid summer day, add an ice cold bottle of Coke and a swish sound and you have created the right formula for magic. Or is it science? Maybe even something not of this world? It doesn’t really matter if you’re the man you are about to meet.

Allow me to introduce, Jefferson Roosevelt Nixon. Mr. Nixon was a product of the world he was born into and never once considered life would be any different. For him, it is and always will be, just as it is now. He was a snapshot in an album of pictures which included everyone else. From his electric car to his digital wallet, Nixon was typical of the age.

When asked if he was named after famous presidents, his response was, “not that I want to remember. The past is what it is and something that should stay that way.” So it was no surprise that what was about to unfold would happen to none other than Jefferson Nixon.

Scanning his digital wallet across a screen, a 5 cent coin was deposited into a holder which he then took and dropped into the coke machine. Pushing the silver handle down, an ice cold bottle of coke was dispensed at the lower opening. Grabbing the bottle, he placed the mouth in the opener and swish.

When the bottle touched his lips, Mr. Nixon was the catalyst needed for the secret formula to work it’s magic. In an instant, the gulping sound was overcome by the sound of brass bands horns, men talking, bells ringing and the squawk of a radio. The words blaring out over a loud speaker announced that President Grover Cleveland was on the podium and about to set the wheels in motion. Lowering the bottle of Coke from his lips and opening his eyes, Jefferson Nixon found himself in a different place and a different time.

Turning himself around and around, looking at his surroundings, his brain tried to understand. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Stopping abruptly he turned to the man at the end of arm.

“Hey buddy, you alright?.”

“What’s happening? Where am I?” the confused Nixon asked.

“Where are you? You’re at the 1893 World’s fair in Chicago.”

“But how? How did I get here?”

“Like everyone else I would guess. Thought the front entrance.”

“I have no memory of coming here. I was recharging my car, drinking a Coke and here I am.”

“Coke I know, recharging a car. Is that one of those horseless carriages things over at the science building?”

“I get it. It’s a hologram, right? I’m in a huge elaborate hologram. A way for the service centre to attract business.”

“Listen bud, I don’t know anything about any hologram. You’re on the midway at the World’s Fair, plain and simple. There’s a first aid spot up past the magician on the right. I suggest you pay them a visit.”

Once his head finally stopped spinning and Nixon could focus, he found himself seated in a brightly lit refreshment stand. Marble and glass adorned the counter and walls. The man behind the Tiffany lead glassed soda fountain taps was coaxing him to order.

“Listen mister, I don’t have all day. Order something or hit the road. This is a busy place.”

“What’s happened to me? Where am I? What is this place?”

“You a fruitcake or something? I know, you got into some bad liquor. There’s a lot of that going round. Why just the other day the coppers had to drag a guy away. He didn’t know his name from a hill of beans.”

“Please, just answer the question.” repeated Nixon.

“Well my good fellow, you’re at the 1893 World’s Fair in my beautiful city of Chicago. And this here place is where people come to refresh themselves with an ice cold glass of Mr. John S. Pemberton’s magic elixir. Coke. Only a nickel.”

“Coke?”

“It is, it is. Coke a Cola to be exact. Place your order or vamoose back to the midway you drunken clown.”

Nixon rose and left the refreshment booth. His rubbery legs made following the man’s directions difficult. Finally he collapsed in front of the magician’s booth where the Houdini brothers were performing.

When he awoke, he found himself in an archaic looking hospital bed unable to move and wearing only a hospital gown and a pair of socks. The overwhelming and distinctive smell of disinfectant permeated the room. A dingy white curtain surrounded the bed, closing him off from the strange world he had just woken up in.

His arms were strapped at his side, his legs secured to the bed in an undignified spread eagle position. The only cover in sight was on the a copy of Hospital Monthly magazine, laying on the side table, next to an enamel bedpan.

“Somebody, is there someone there? What’s happening? I’m feeling kinda cold, anyone?”

From the other side of the curtain, a woman’s voice could be heard, asking if he was decent. Unable to move and with nothing to cover himself, Jefferson Nixon had to acquiesce to the situation. Movement of the curtain at the foot of the bed heightened the anxiety he was feeling. He closed his eyes for a moment and braced himself for the soon to come embarrassment.

“You’re awake. That’s good. How are you feeling? You gave us quite a scare.”

“What is this place?”

“This place, as you call it, is the County Hospital first aid post.”

“What’s happening to me? One moment I’m getting my car charged, then I was told that I was at a fair, the next thing I know, I’m in a hospital bed. Am I in a nut house?”

“Oh pshaw Mr. Jones, no one here thinks your nuts. Just a little confused.”

“My name is Jefferson Nixon, not Jones.”

“Well, when you were brought in, there was no identification in your belongings. Rather strange looking clothes I may add. We had to call you something.”

“My name is Nixon. Jefferson Roosevelt Nixon!”

“Relax Mr. Nixon, no one is calling you a liar.”

The young nurse left the room and returned with a man, who Nixon judged was a doctor. His white smock and stethoscope gave him away. Other than the cigarette hanging from his mouth, the man was just another face to the bewildered Jefferson Nixon.

Pulling a chair up beside the restrained man, the doctor flicked the ashes from his cigarette into a bed pan and returned it to his mouth.

“The nurse informed me that you say your name is Nixon. Is that correct?”

“Yes. Jefferson Nixon.”

“Well Mr. Nixon, if you agree to remain calm, we’ll remove the restraints. You were quite uncontrollable when they brought you in. It was only for your safety you understand.”

“I’ll give no trouble, I just need for this nightmare to go away.”

“Which nightmare are you referring to Mr. Nixon?”

“The one I’m in right now. Where I’m back in time. In an archaic looking hospital room strapped to a bed against my will.”

“Like I said, it was only out of safety. Nurse undo the restraints. I’d like to hear more about your nightmare Mr. Nixon.”

“From the beginning Doc?”

“Yes, from the beginning or from the middle. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Very well, it’s like this.”

Jefferson Nixon went on to explain that he was at the service centre charging his vehicle. He was thirsty and purchased a Coke from the old fashioned vending machine. Then he found himself in a Coke a Cola refreshment booth on the midway at the World’s Fair. “That’s quite a yarn Mr. Nixon. Did anything else happen?”

“Just that I woke up here strapped to a bed.”

“Listen Mr. Nixon, I think you have suffered a bit of sun stroke. Get dressed. You can go. There’s a nice haberdashery just down the way. Perhaps you should think of purchasing a hat.”

Realizing that his present situation did seem ridiculous, Jefferson Nixon went along with his present circumstances, if only to assure his independence. An explanation for him being at the 1893 World’s Fair would not be found in a first aid station.

Having regained his composure, Nixon’s plan was to return to the place where the present nightmare started. The Coke a Cola refreshment both. This all started with a Coke, and the answer must be found with a Coke.

Inside the refreshment booth, Nixon took a seat at the counter and waited. Soon the same soda jerk came to serve him.

“You again? What’s the problem? Not enough to see? Why it’s one of the greatest shows on earth.”

“I need answers and I want them now.”

“Listen up friend, I only work here. You want answers, your going to have to talk to the guy in charge.”

“So where is the guy in charge? How do I meet him?”

“The guy you’re looking for is over at the science and technology exhibition. His name is Tesla.”

“You must be joking! Tesla here!”

“So you know of the guy. A right genius they say. As long as your name’s not Edison, that is.”

With directions provided by the soda jerk, Nixon headed to the science and technology exhibition to find Nicola Tesla.

To Nixon it was like walking into a museum. Jam packed with old fashioned junk. Nothing at all like the electronic digital world he knew. Asking about Tesla, Nixon was directed to a group of men standing inside a large metal cage. From just outside the entrance he called out Tesla’s name. The men turned around. Tesla knew at once that Nixon was literally not from around here. Dismissing his party, Tesla hurried over to Nixon and ushered him away to a private room. Making sure no one was in the room or listening, Tesla asked,”

“When and where?”

“What do you mean?” asked Nixon.

“From what time and place are you from?”

“2093, The Hegemony of Western America.”

It was unclear who was more relieved. Both men had something to prove. Tesla’s time travel experiments and Nixon’s sanity.

“Hegemony? Who and what pray tell?” inquired the inquisitive Tesla.

“The western continents.”

“And the rest of the planet?” asked Tesla.

“The World Electrospirit Empire.”

“What kind of world is that? Please explain”

“A world where the spirits of dead electric and electronic devices rule. Not a ghost in the machine. But where the electro and electronic machines actually becomes the ghosts. At first they were just disembodied electronic spirits. Some good, but most were bad. They evolved in a very short time into a life form and challenged for the planet. They filled the void left by the collapse of Europe and Asia. An armistice was brokered with the Hegemony There you have it, in a nut shell.”

Shocked, Tesla and Nixon returned to the refreshment booth. A large glass of ice cold Coca Cola was placed in front of Jefferson Roosevelt Nixon. Once again, touching the magic elixir to his lips, he instantly found himself back in front of the vintage coke machine with an empty bottle in his hand. What the brain in an instant had perceived as imagination, soon congealed into reality. The brochure from the 1893 World’s Fair was in his one other hand, and a broadcast over his digital wallet announcing that the World Electrospirit Empire had been extinguished. Somehow, somewhere, Nikola Tesla had changed the future.

ello.co@01021956bob

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ladyloveandjustice · 7 years

Text

Wisdom and War: An Athena Cykes Mix

Art given to me by the amazing @diloolie

And charge in head on/ I will be your shield/Go ahead and release the goddess inside you!/(In every star, in ever moon, in every vena, there lives Athena)

A mix for Athena Cykes, a revolutionary girl who outshines the moon.

Play on Playmoss

Play on 8tracks

Finishing replaying Dual Destinies and getting some amazing art from diloolie inspired me to finally make an Athena mix! I may have gotten...a bit carried away. Can u believe I was worried about not finding enough songs...ANYWAY. Even if you don’t know Ace Attorney, this makes for a great kick-butt mix to get you motivated (save for a couple subdued sad songs at the beginning).It’s a mix that pretty much screams “LET’S DO THIS!” as Athena would say.

Lyrics, annotations and translations under the cut!

Athena- PRETTY SELF EXPLANATORY. I was so pumped to discover this song at the last minute. I was actually alerted to it thanks to a sweet Athena amv that came up in my youtube suggestions- check it.

The moment is right/So don't wait/Get ready to fight/When I say/Break free of the chains/That hold you back/React. And plan your attack

Brace yourself and run into the battlefield/Move on/Don't falter/Plan your pursuit/And charge on and head on I will be your shield /Go on/Release the goddess inside you In every star/In every moon /In every vena/There lives Athena

They Know My Name- a song for Athena’s trauma and PTSD. It also fits for how she can get overwhelmed hearing everyone’s emotions.

Her panic attacks being highly visible- can also refer to how Widget tends to recite her thoughts:

All of my noise in the air/My thoughts can be seen from everywhere

Panic attacks, PTSD:

These wars that I fight from within/I don't know where they end and I begin I try/ I try to calm them down/But these thoughts they keep spinning/Round and round, round and round/These monsters are hiding within my brain/They roar and they shout and they know my name

Goodnight Little Robot Child- Young Athena, living in the space center among robots, unable to tell the difference between them and humans

Goodnight little robot child/Close your eyes go to sleep tight/ little robot child/Starmans waiting for/You've been running around with your robot friends/And your battery's feeling so low

Little Me- Athena looking back on her younger self. "I was a shaking and scared little girl, small and ineffectual.... Even after I went to live with my relatives in Europe, I stayed closed up in my shell. “

Voice so quiet you don't hear a word/Always talking but she can't be heard/You can see it there if you catch her eye/I know she's brave but it's trapped inside/Scared to talk but she don't know why

Wish I knew back then/What I know now/Wish I could somehow Go back in time and maybe listen to my own advice/I'd tell her to speak up, tell her to shout out/Talk a bit louder, be a bit prouder

Yellow Halo- Athena dealing with the death of her mother. I consider this to be from Metis’s POV in a way. This song is actually about dealing with the loss of a mother, so it fits really well.

Metis dying:

I rose to the moon, Wearing all white

Metis wears a “yellow halo” now, and those colors are passed on to Athena Athena wears yellow, shining brightly and kindly:

Yellow halo/all your colors/yellow halo/for a queen/yellow halo/bequeathed

Metis lives on through Athena, who carries on her legacy, wearing the moon earring her mother made for her and bringing hope to everyone:

Seasons change/the moon’s still here/dawn breaks endlessly

Hope on Fire: Athena making her vow to be heard and to save Simon, no matter what the cost (yes i know i use this song a lot in mixes, IT’S A GREAT SONG OKAY) “That’s because one day, I came to realize that I had to fight. I couldn’t give up"

gotta fight gotta strike/'cause there's no turning away/from what you don't want to know/

ooh you're gonna make your mark this time/ooh you're gonna set your hope on fire/gotta leave gotta bleed/you've gotta stop lying still/'cause this is no kind of life

we're coming closer now to the truth

Akatsuki no Hana: "I couldn’t give up. I exercised hard and I studied hard. I wanted to become the strongest lawyer I could be.”

I’ll tear the doubt out of my mind/because with the strength inside me/I’ll leave the girl I was behind

Breaking through to the sky with the strength to survive/feel the dawn break through toy your heart/Chasing the skies, I’ll find a brighter day/Tear through the lies/I’m who I wanna be/you won’t take my courage away

Bravado: “What was Athena like as a child? ”She didn’t talk very much” “That’s completely different from the Athena we know now!” "I was so surprised! She was like a completely different person, so cheerful and happy!”

All my life, I've been fighting a war/I can't talk to you or your friends/It's not only you/My heart jumps around when I'm alluded to/This will not do

But when you're withdrawn, it's the closest thing to assault when all eyes are on you/This will not do/I'm faking glory/Lick my lips, toss my hair/And turn the smile on/And the story's brand new/But I can take it from here/I'll find my own bravado

Me Against the World- Athena refusing to give up on Simon even as he’s all obstinate and ready to change the courtroom

okay, with this line how could I resist:

Simon says to pack it up

Even the LA references work if you consider Japanifornia (though honestly I can never think of AA as actually taking place in LA...just a weird alternate Japan where everyone has english names. BUT I DIGRESS)

They said don't try to change the world/You're just a girl/So it's me against the world today/I'm gonna do it my own way/And though nobody understands/I'm gonna make a one girl stand

Give a Reason- full translation here. Lyrics also in the playmoss vid. Very fitting for Athena, who charges ahead and looks for answers

There's an "answer" somewhere for sure /The answer for why we were born/.../I'm not afraid of getting hurt!/But I'm not strong in any way for feeling that /Simply, I just can’t do nothing/I don't wanna be regretting myself! /Here we go! go! I'll keep running /I won't be stopped by anybody!

Dakara: My Hero Academia and Athena go together so well.

“I didn’t have anybody to support me at first, either. I couldn’t face the fear inside me, couldn’t get over the trauma of my past. “

“ It sure feels nice to be part of a great group like this! I just want to say I really love working here with all you fabulous people!”

How come I am the only one to always face a hurricane?/Back then I used to think it all so meaningless (was so alone)/But everything began to change

Again we’re crying but trying/To prove we can overcome it/I know that we’ll rise above it each and every time/(Everything will be fine!)/I’ll reach for your hand,Yeah, my friend,You are not alone this time

One Girl Revolution- The courtroom Revolutionaire! “Let’s revolutionize this stodgy institution!”

And I'll be everything that I want to be/I am confidence in insecurity/I am a voice yet waiting to be heard/I'll shoot the shot /Bang/That you hear round the world/And I'm a one girl revolution

See Me Now- “ Then that’s a win for me– No, a win for analytical psychology! “

That I've been hesitating so long, so long/Somebody turn out the light./Cause right now must be my time to shine/They said I couldn't, they told me that I wouldn't/But if they could see me now/They'd see I'm something, that I'm not scared of nothing/And the world will hear me shout

Odd Future

You love the contradiction shaking you/even when you fall take one step/you can breath again in one step/.../shaking off the rust in your soul/gotta rise from a dark history/.../but today I opened up my eyes and I feel alive

Everything at Once- In the DLC, Athena said she wanted to be strong enough to fight a whale, and suddenly I realized this was perfect for her. She dreams big and wants to be everything and I love her.

As pretty as a picture hanging from a fixture/Strong like a family, strong as I wanna be/Bright as day, as light as play/As hard as nails, as grand as a whale/All I wanna be, all I wanna be, oh/All I wanna be is everything

The Prayer- “Why do you turn everything into a competition?” Athena’s go getter competitiveness is everything.

Let me outshine the moon/Is it so wrong to crave recognition?/Second best, runner-up/Is it so wrong to want rewarding?/To want more than is given to you?

Tonight make me unstoppable/And I will charm, I will slice/I will dazzle them with my wit

Peace sign- “She flashed a peace sign at me. “Congratulations on your acquittal,” she said. [...]But I saw her eyes. They were red and swollen from crying. She’s gotta be suffering! She must be so worried! And yet she went out of her way to be nice and give me that big smile!”

Although your eyes are red, you’ll never cry again/ no I’ll be the smile that you need and I won’t go/Theme to be a hero, just remember to sing/Say goodbye and I’ll leave with a peace sign

Voice of the heart- “Let me hear the voice of you heart!”

If you listen long enough/If you dream it strong enough/A door inside will open/And a light will flood the dark/Like a song too long unsung/Or a soul forever young/We all will find an answer/In the voice of the heart

I’m a Believer- Athena charging ahead with people cheering her on ‘"It’s not over yet, Thena. Even now at this very moment, I still believe in you! I know you better than most people, Thena. And I know you’d never surrender to the dark age of the law ”

It’s not easy to keep going – motivation’s running thin/I know my dream’s unrealistic … No, I don’t need reminding/In these moments, under pressure, when you feel it closing in/You’re the one - be the one to believe in

I keep searching for an answer/But I can’t keep it together Does anybody know what path I should take?/I won’t hesitate/Because this dream that I’ll create, it cannot be misguided/By simple regret, and thoughts of “what if”/So, I’ll take my next step, but if you were to cheer me on,I’d soar beyond that boundary

Young Volcanoes- “Well, nobody's going to try harder than me! So you'd better watch out, Apollo! Simon is free, thanks to Mr. Wright... ...but there are so many more people out there who need our help!”

Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds/It's all over now/Before it has begun/We've already won/We are wild/We are like young volcanoes

Sora ni- Look, Athena and MHA just really go well together. I was always telling you guys sh’s part shonen hero part magical girl.

“Well, I knew that if I didn’t get your sentence overturned fast, you’d be executed! So I studied and studied. I was frantic! I’m so glad I made it in time! ………… Just barely… but I still made it! “

Every time you cry/Make it so It only makes you stronger/Cut straight through the illusion/And soar from the confusion/To a Blue-Sky Revolution/Can't forsake the future when it's this bright/So give the fight/All your might

Sunadokei: translation here. “Thatta girl, Athena. It’s good to see you finally let your tears out. “

I just continue on living /Questioning its meaning... /A correct answer just doesn't exist /So I just raise my head and keep walking

Resignation without restraint, memories/If you regret it and cry, that is fine /But even so, the tomorrow that is created will /Overflow with merciless love/.../Turn those broken tears into strength

Courtroom revolutionaire- obviously.

#athena cykes #ace attorney #my fanmix #fanmix #kizuki kokone #kokone kizuki #playmoss

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thewritehag · 6 years

Photo

Primary Research: The Chocolate Maker and the Chocolate Witch

[my patreon]

Taste is a restaurant and chocolate cafe. It used to be an art studio, the building owned by the same people, and one that I can only sort of remember passing by. When Taste first went up, my sister and I wanted to stop in, but it appeared to be a "call first" sort of place and, until a sign was put out in the years following, it still looked that way. But, we knew about it and that prompted my initial email requesting an interview to help me better understand chocolate production for, Witching.

Liliana-Eneko Sloane is the matriarch of the Sloane family, property, and the Witch Matriarch for one of six of the main Witch families. She is also Berenice Sloane's (Witching's main protagonist) mom. She is a water witch who controls the water in a deep well beneath the Sloane property and channels her witching into her gardening, but mainly in her cacao plants, inconceivably growing in the high mountains of southeastern Idaho (in the fictional town of Leicester). So that I can understand the mechanics of what she does better, I wanted to develop my own knowledge in chocolate production.

I've been living in Provo my entire life, yet I forgot how the parking situation is on Center Street, how the traffic is. So, trapped in a spot directly in front of the new LDS temple and former LDS tabernacle, I checked my fail safe recording app after my interview with the Chocolate Maker. It had not saved. Caught between a wall of cars, pavement, and the smell of Belgium cut fries, I reran over what he and I talked about. Then, after getting back into traffic after a kind individual waved me on in and a smelly trip back to my office, I sat down at my computer and attempted to recall what happened.

Taste is located on University Avenue, further from where I parked than I had estimated, but the walk was quick. Warmer outside than in my always chilly office, the sun was bright and the sky almost completely clear. I passed business people on their lunch and not a few people going to whatever convention was being held at the center of town. It is a one-story, red brick building, wide windows and a minimalist logo belied by the homey touches of the interior.

I was greeted by Taylor, who was the one to setup our meeting months after I extended my request. I thought I was reaching out to a chocolatier and one who guarded their secrets the way chefs and artists are thought to do often.

Rather than being greeted by hauteur or stiffness, Taylor was amiable and welcoming. Thick glasses framed her eyes and her tawny hair was brought up into a tight ponytail. She sat me down with a carafe of water and two glasses, a purple flower decorated the center of all the tables, then went to get her father Morgan. The Chocolate Maker

While waiting, I observed and was observed in turn by the other restaurant patrons: a family that made me think of German tourists, waited upon by a man I was unable to meet who was giving them a sample of Taste's chocolate tastings, the specialty. I smiled when my camera, on its blue and black flexible tripod, was stared at while I set it up, then Morgan arrived.

Taller than Taylor by a few inches and me by a few inches more, his hair was salt and pepper, though his brown apron complimented it and his beard in such a way I can only remember them as matching. We shook hands and I hit record on my camera. It failed. The battery gone, though it had not been in use and was with a full charge before. I will never unplug it again until right before another such outing. Instead, my phone ready and the best fail safe a writer can have--pen and paper--ready, we began.

"What got you interested in becoming a chocolatier?" I asked first.

He told me he wasn't a chocolatier, but a chocolate maker. This was even better. Liliana Eneko-Sloane isn't a chocolatier either, but a water witch who grows and processes her own chocolate to sell in the Thorned Page (chocolate cafe and speculative bookshop). Morgan took this idea in with grace. I didn't tell him the story's set in Idaho.

In a room connected to the restaurant by bricks and large windows, are a series of metal boxes, where the beans are processed and made into chocolate. Morgan told me how it was the machinery that romanced him into chocolate making, not just the love of the product. He used to do printing on paper and is an artist in other ways, and chocolate making is also an art. After moving the art studio and buying the machinery, Taste began.

The love of chocolate came about the way it does with almost everyone: it was the smell. Most of chocolate's flavor is in the smell. Through over cooking, baking, roasting, so goes away the taste. Morgan told me how in the UK, he disembarked a bus with his mother and the sweet, earthy smell drew them into the streets and to a shop in England. This launched into how the Pump Street Bakery bakes phenomenal bread and uses those ovens to roast their cocoa beans, and how those two products became built into each other (I have an untrained palate, but the bar I got tastes nice). This begins what makes a chocolate maker different than a chocolatier.

The chocolatier takes the finished product and goes from there to potentially make beautiful pieces that shine decadence, the kind you are loathed to take apart and consume. The chocolate maker's whole process is the art. From the growing, the selection, fermentation, chew, roast, grind, conching, taste and consumption is the purpose and thus, the art. There's a chocolate bar from Lithuania made with Hungarian paprika (cheaper at Taste's online store than Amazon dot com, oddly) that looks more like tile work than treat and I was struck how it is almost profoundly sad to eat it, but can it be chocolate if it's not consumed? Is it art if it doesn't melt between your teeth?

A raw cocoa bean from Madagascar taste like strawberry liqueur in the chew stage, before it could be processed. Like wine, chocolate flavors vary depending on region, the type of cocoa plant, and how many times they were turned during fermentation. The types of chocolate that Taste serves at their bar--a literal bar with stools--are the ones I was excited to hear the most about. There are several ways to make hot chocolate, even "chocolate tea," as well as iced chocolate, and a sipping chocolate that is dark chocolate so thick, it's just melted. Later, I found the cream the sipping chocolate is made from is very high quality, but I am still allergic to it.

The machines in Taste are not usual to chocolate production. They are neither small or industrial sized, but are medium; just right for the location and ones that make sense for Liliana, too. It's just meant for their city, as is Taste (for now, as I can't presume to know their expansion plans), and for moderate production. For experimentation with flavors and additions, Morgan said a food processor is good for the "quick and dirty."

Quick and dirty experiments are judging what different additions do with the cocoa beans as the flavors develop together. For example, salt brings out sweetness and caramel explores depths. Herbs and fruit enhance similar notes, milk or cream adjusts the bitterness, also countered with sugar. Unlike salt, herbs, peppercorns, fruit, or other spices that are often added at the very end of processing, sugar is added at the grind stage. It means just what it sounds like.

Here's where the hard facts of chocolate making and cacao came into our conversation. I won't go too much into it, as it's all information that I can look up (have done and will again) as secondary research.

After grinding the chocolate, it gets conched. Conching is the surface scraper that also agitates to distribute the cocoa butter evenly through the dry chocolate, both in the cacao nibs. It helps with flavor development through friction. Morgan called it polishing the molecules.

Cacao nibs are the pretentious stuff you can buy to pretend to be healthy, but is also chocolate in its purest, most basic form. Taste uses them to make chocolate, but also their chocolate tea: hot water strained through cacao nibs with a regular tea strainer or a french press (ah, Utah). $10 per tin or I would've gotten it.

At the end of our interview, we talked somewhat of the benefits of growing the beans yourself, then processing them, as opposed to importing/exporting. In the long run, it's more cost-effective and likely more ethical. The details began to get lost as Morgan was careful to state that chocolate making is, after the basics of processing, an art; each maker has their own way of doing things. It's those kinds of vagueries that make me, a writer, feel good about the BS in which I so revel.

Attached here are the pictures I took that day and my interview script, and never-ever-fail notes that I took and later transcribed, and included what mattered to Witching.

Interview tips:

Research beforehand

Have a list of prepared questions that you are comfortable using and deviating from

Multiple recording devices, including pens/pencils and paper.

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rochellebuckleyhandmade · 5 years

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Trigger Warning: This post may evoke recall of previous traumatic events. If you feel you need to talk to someone please go to Beyond Blue, The Black Dog Institute or Lifeline

Since my last post I’ve received many questions about my accident.

The most common one is asking how can I even look at the photos of the car.

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I don’t recall having any problems looking at it but after I was released from hospital I felt I needed to go to the accident site AND track down the car and see it. Inspect it, look at it all over. Whilst at the accident site, I collected broken, shattered, scorched pieces of the car, including some of the windscreen that I had intended to use to make some art pieces, sculptures to present to the people who saved me. I still have those pieces but I have not as yet been able to create. Time restrictions, not traumatic affects. Why did I do these things? I’m not sure. I just felt it was part of my healing process.

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The above slideshow are some of the photographs I took at the smash repairs. It took me a few days to track down the car and where it was but once I did, my daughter accompanied me to have a look.

The fellow there was fantastic. He was so helpful and took us straight out the back to have a look. He stood with us the whole time, shaking his head and repeating over and over again how he just could not believe I got out of that car and was standing right there in front of him. He gave me paper, pen and clipboard so I could write a list of belongings we could identify from the boot of the car. There were three iPad’s lost in the fire. Two of which were almost brand new. One of those iPad’s belonged to my boss, one to the college I was attending and one was mine that had taken me over two and a half years to save for. There was well over $2,000 of fibre, yarn, needles and dyes in preparation for my class the next day. Nothing within the car was insured. I lost my new spectacles, a brand new pair of Birkenstocks, my $1,600 phone and more. It took me a while to process that these were just things. I am still alive and that is all that matters.

Maybe it wasn’t as hard as it should have been because it wasn’t my car. That right there is the one thing that did trouble me. The car belonged to my former boss and before that it belonged to her beloved Dad who had since passed. That’s what I found the hardest. I thought that maybe, if she was anything like me, that car was one of her last connections to her Dad and that hit me hard. I was so upset for her and I struggled to not blame myself. Even though it was proven that it was just an accident and I was not driving recklessly, irresponsibly or dangerously (which of course I already knew)

That day, I had driven with a colleague to a Red Cross training in Kent St Sydney, some 150kms and over 2 hours drive away in peak hour traffic. My colleague remained in Sydney that night and I returned alone. Thank goodness! It started to rain heavily on the freeway on the way home. It hit hard and bucketed down from about Mt White. Visibility was almost non existent and traffic on the freeway had slowed to about 60kms. The rain didn’t ease until I exited the freeway at Ryhope when it stopped completely. There was no rain but the roads were covered in water. I was driving well below the suggested speed limit, simply because it was so wet and because it wasn’t my car.

I reached a crest in the road where it cambered hard to the left and the back of the car just kept going. I made the mistake of braking hard to try stopping the car from ploughing off the edge of a rather high drop which would have sent me hurtling through a paddock. Once I realised that braking was not the right thing to do, I started pumping the brake in the hope I would gain some control. This must have all happened in seconds. There was nothing more I could do (well that’s what I thought at the time. I just held onto the steering wheel and tried my darnedest to steer the vehicle. ( I know a little more now about how I should have handled a front wheel drive). Before I knew it, I was headed uncontrollably toward that tree. It was so fast and so surreal. I could see the tree focused within a circle of blurriness and literally saw snippets of my life flash before me. I honestly thought I was about to die.

This is my interpretation of what I saw as I hurtled toward that tree

The following is what I posted to my Mothers Facebook two days later.

Spelling and other mistakes have been corrected.

It’s me Rochelle, currently I’m unable to access my fb account since I don’t have access to my phone and security code.

I just want to let my family and friends know that I’m great, I’m still here and I will be discharged from hospital today or tomorrow.

For those who don’t know, I had an horrific car accident at approximately 6pm Wednesday night (25/02/14) on Millar Rd, Wakefield where the car I was driving left the road and wrapped around a gum tree head on. After recognising that I was still alive, I realised I had to get out immediately as the car was on fire. I stopped, took a deep breath and commenced Systema Breathing Techniques as taught to me by my friend Deano Reynolds (thanks Deano :-)) I gained my composure and saw to my right a young girl who had turned the corner in her car and pulled up at the sight of my twisted wreckage. I called out to her to assist me but the poor thing was frozen. I was aware there was broken glass and pieces of shattered gum tree falling onto me through the broken windscreen. There was smoke gently wafting in through the window and it was then that I realised I was trapped. Pinned by my left leg under the dash and steering wheel. I looked to my left and recognised the driveway of Craig and his family, he and his twins are members of the fire brigade that I’m a member of. I started calling out to Craig to help me. After calling out the second time, it dawned on me that he wouldn’t hear me but then, by some miracle he and his boys were standing beside me. “Craig, it’s me”. He didn’t recognise my car as I was driving my bosses car. Craig looked like he went into shock at the realisation it was his colleague trapped in this car. Despite this, he and his boys worked at getting me out of that car and the impending fire. I could see the fire increasing rapidly and I guess, as a firefighter I knew the urgency of needing to be extracted asap. I was in a lot of pain, my neck, chest andback hurt real bad and my hands were not working but it was a case of risking paralysation or burning alive. Craig coached me to get my leg out somehow. I still don’t know how I did. As soon as my leg was released Craig, Josh and Tom extracted me out through the window and carried me across the road. By the time I looked up, the car was involved and the seat I had just been removed from was now alight.

EDIT: I have since found out it was Craig and Jamie who lifted me out whilst the boys did traffic control and helped manage the scene. It was then I remembered the car was on gas. I told Craig there was gas on board and he immediately cleared his boys and other people from the vicinity. From the moment of impact to the time they had me on the side of the road, I reckon would have been no more than 3 minutes. After I was moved in another vehicle, away from the accident, I heard the car explode. (Well that’s what it sounded like, it may have just been the battery).

I need to express my most sincere thanks and highest regard to Craig, Josh and Tom along with Sally. I have absolutely no doubt that if it weren’t for them, I would not be here today to tell my tale. I know they are all incredibly humble and would not like all of the fuss, saying that it’s all part of the job. No it’s not. They looked after me, their colleague and friend, despite the risks and dangers to their own lives and despite themselves going into shock. I owe them my life.

Thank you to all of the onlookers and bystanders for your assistance. Every single person who helped me in some way that day, the paramedics, the police and of course my beautiful Wakefield Rural Fire Service. Thank you for giving me another chance and saving my life.

EDIT: The newspaper article states that Joe from our Brigade arrived in the Cat 1 to help with fire control and vehicle protection. This is what I was told too. I have only recently discovered that it was in fact Killingworth FB. Enormous thanks and gratitude to Killy for your assistance too.

Somehow I remained reasonably calm throughout the entire ordeal. I was just concentrating on my breathing after telling myself I needed to remain calm or I would not get out.

The paramedics arrived and did their thing including taking my blood pressure. They took it again. And again. And again, before reaching for a second sphygmomanometer to take it several more times. The paramedic then asked his colleague to take my blood pressure a couple of times. I remember asking if there was a problem. They told me they didn’t think so and that was the problem. I was asked if I was implementing some sort of relaxation technique and I told them I was. The paramedic told me whatever I was doing, to keep doing it because my blood pressure was perfect and they had never seen anything like it before.

Once I arrived at the hospital, the nurses commenced working on me straight away. They cut my jeans off (and I had wet myself) they refused to cut off my tie dyed jacket because they liked it, they cut off my T-shirt but refused to cut my underware, stating that they understood how hard it was to get good fitting bras. I appreciated that. They too took my blood pressure several times before paging the doctor. He asked if I was implementing any relaxation technique also and could not believe my blood pressure either. It was still giving a perfect reading.

It was short lived though. I broke down when my children and my Mum walked in. They were only informed that I was in hospital but they were not allowed to be informed why or how. That upset me quite a bit.

Not long after I really started to struggle with the pain. The collar I had around my neck was digging in, pulling and hurting terribly. May back was hurting so bad, my neck, my arms, my legs, it just all hurt. I felt like I was going to climb the walls. I could not keep still and I kept getting in trouble for moving around when they still didn’t know if I had any fractures.

X-rays were done, ultra sound and various other tests before I was transported to the ward to commence my recovery. I had much bruising and a huge haematoma that extended from behind my earline, along my jaw, down across my chest, across my rib-cage and wrapped around my back. The x-rays did not show any fractures due to the haematoma covering them it is believed and I did not learn about most of them until almost two weeks later when the pain in my neck, ribs, chest and back were worsening.

I managed to fracture my neck, C5 and C6, my right collarbone, five ribs on my right and a tiny bone in my left ankle, the Talus.

Some of the bruising on my left leg. The haematoma down toward my ankle was showing signs of compartment syndrome.

Pretty bad photo but here I am on the ward, day two, trying to walk again.

If you click on the image below, it will take you to the news article in The Newcastle Herald.

Click HERE to follow the link to the newspaper article

The hardest thing I find now is driving past that spot. I felt I had to drive there the day I was released from hospital. I felt that if I didn’t, I would never drive that road again. That is when I got out, walked the road, walked back through the evidence that was still there and tried to nut out what happened exactly.

It is 15 months since that accident and I still struggle to drive that road, especially in the wet. I have to drive it though, it is the road to our station and the most direct route from home. It is even the most direct route to my sisters home.

If you drive that road now, you can still see the scorched tree and the burnt, melted tarmac on the road. Still to this day, a constant reminder of how very close I came to my last day here on earth.

A friend of mine told me she is beginning to think I am secretly a cat because I seem to have nine lives. It certainly feels like that sometimes.

Was my recovery hard? Damn right it was. Many people commented that I seemed to handle it all so well and heal so fast. In many ways I did not handle it well at all. I cried myself to sleep each night for months. I had nightmares and what they call flash backs and was diagnosed with PTSD. I had this awful, awful sensation every time a car I was travelling in turned a corner. It honestly felt like the car was losing control, the back end was sliding and we were going to lose control again. It didn’t matter who was driving whether it was me, my son, my Parents, my daughter, whoever. I was convinced the car was out of control. Even though it was psychological, it felt so incredibly physical. I would get all sweaty, shaky, my breathing would become rapid and my insides would churn. Sometimes I would even be physically ill and have panic attacks. It was hard. I’m sure I must have stretched the patience of my family. I was so jumpy and edgy around cars. I can’t tell you how I overcame this. I worked with my psychologist regularly and still do. I still struggle to be in a car with someone else driving and I still get anxious when driving in the rain. I’m improving every day and more often than not, I usually forget the whole thing.

The pain was unbearable, even on morphine. More pain on top of my chronic joint pain was just yucky. It hurt to breathe for months, I couldn’t turn over in bed, in fact lying down was incredibly painful. The pain in my neck just did not give up. I begged my doctor to do something. His advice was that it was time to get back on-board the firetruck.

WHAT? Are you serious? How do you think I will be able to climb up into that vehicle?

The very next day, I found myself on-board assisting with storm relief. It would have been about Monday 27th or Tuesday 28th April. Some nine weeks after the accident. It worked. Whether it was the action of pulling myself in and out of that truck all day or whether it was just the fact that I was back out, doing what I love, helping and contributing and gaining my confidence once again. I just don’t know but I have barely had any problems with it since.

I think that is all I have to say.

In all of this, I just want to offer you hope and encouragement to find joy in the small things. I actually had to become more mindful of finding my joy after this event and although it took me months, I find my joy every day.

If you ever find yourself in a sticky situation, remember to remain calm. Utilise whatever technique you can, whether it be relaxation techniques, prayer or Systema Breathing Technique. You can do it!

Please scroll down to the bottom of our page to leave a comment. We would LOVE to hear from you.

The Accident Trigger Warning: This post may evoke recall of previous traumatic events. If you feel you need to talk to someone please go to…

#accident #hope #joy #systema

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the-heroic-changeling · 7 years

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Decided to make a separate post for my latest Legend of Zelda fan fic, and I might as well post these bio cards in the process. There are three more weeks until Breath of the Wild, and the following story is meant to sorta bridge that gap. It doesn’t take place in the canon timeline of course, but it is meant to end up near the same place. It takes place in Timeline splintered off from Windwaker, which I have written for before. Those stories can be found here.

http://the-heroic-changeling.tumblr.com/post/156780159408/so-i-decided-to-post-my-old-legend-of-zelda-fics

This particular story talks of the end of an era, where almost all progress and advancement society had made is destroyed by an irrational monstroud flood of hate. Spoiler, this gets political, so if you are stressed by current events, please be aware going in. A lot of real life problems get referenced, and I do vent at some of the more passive Americans.

Other things to note, I decided Medli is autistic for this timeline because reasons. Most of them how much I relate to her. So yeah, it doesn’t come up much in the story, but it is there.

Linkle is not necessarily an incarnation of Linkle from Hyrule Warriors, same with Mīfa. Medli is Medli though, so if I write her weirdly that’s on me.

A sapphic relationship is the main and only romance in this fic, and I tried to make it cute. Whether or not I succeeded, I don’t know, but none of the queer ladies die, so that's a plus. But yeah, it's for Femslash February.

This story is a bit sci fi, which the Legend has embraced recently with things like the Ancient Robots and pretty much everything Spirit Tracks. Magic still is key as are the gods, but they also have steam powered space shuttles. Again, this is meant to be the pinochle of New Hyrule, just before the tumbling fall.

I will try to tag people on my other blog, at the least the cards are new and maybe worth tagging for. Other than that please enjoy, and hopefully this is entertaining if a bit melancholy at points.

What if this World Ends?

A Legend of Zelda fan fic inspired by current events and the Breath of the Wild trailer, taking place in the distant future of a variant of the Adult Timeline

"What's Past is Prologue"

Medli was immortal, she had lived for centuries already. She had seen kingdoms rise and fall, and she had seen art burn and be restored. But still, gazing out over this lunar city, it was one of the most beautiful things she had seen. She stroked her feathered head, her attention mostly on the monorails that linked each building on the moon, allowing her people the Rito to travel between the domes they had built on the surface and underground. She stimmed a bit, feeling the fluff of her feathers between her fingers.

A smile lingered on her face as she stared around New Dragon Roost, watching one of the trains rush into a dome filled with salt water and fish, the "Lesser Sea" as it was known to the Rito. Fishmen swam here, and from the monorail you could see the environment that once dwelled in the Great Sea of the World Below. Life that may have come extinct below still lived her, evolving and changing as the bird-like Rito had evolved from the fish-like Zora.

The trains along with the city ran mostly on the artificial volcanic activity the Rito had ignited inside their moon. The moon's core lived on a mix of alchemy, magic, divinity, and science - fueling their home, an eternal engine. The so-called Bird People flew on the drafts of thermal wind that flowed through the city, and used the heat pulsating inside the moon to power their city and the cannons that linked New Dragon Roost to the smaller outposts on the moon, as well as the World Below.

Up around the city Lobsters flew, they looked sort of like a hybrid of the old New Hyrule steamships, a crustacean, and a bathysphere - large vessels with claws for lifting cargo and massive magnetic generators that propelled them through space. They traveled between the World Below, New Dragon Roost, even the Sea of Satellites. Helping link the RotGS together.

She stretched out, stood up, and began to walk into the airlock that defended the dome. Her people were mortals, they needed air while she did not. Her current body was synthetic, powered by the gelatinous electric Chu Chu batteries, and her Ghost controlled it from beyond mortality. It would never breakdown and never stop. As she stood in the chamber air hissed and she laughed, the vents purifying her of any lunar toxins.

The city smelt of salt, ash, and fish, and she breathed in the taste. Even now, as generations of Rito are born on the Moon, they have not forgotten the life of the Great Sea. It was like a breath from her childhood, and to her autistic thoughts it was a warm hug.

She walked inside, her small yellow feet tapping against the hard floor. She felt the heat waft from the floor, an invisible mist that made her skin tickle. She grinned, spinning around on her heels, twirling through the heat as Rito glided above her. Unlike her their skin was brown, peaked with white feathers. She stepped forward, tapping in a whirl, letting out a laugh, before whipping into the hot air.

She landed back down, and began to run through the city. Great buildings towered above her, shaped almost like mountain peaks. Carved in the organic towers were caves, homes and businesses dotting the sky. Each glowed with the red heat of the volcanic heat, pumped from below the surface. Along the way other homes grew underground, like a bee's hive.

She cartwheeled, it was good to live. She had seen the world grow and change, been there watching the first Rito probe land in space, personally captured the Bokoblin submarine that helped kick start the Era of Steam. She landed on her feet, her wings expanding out of her arms. She beat them, before blasting off into the air.

She blasted into the sky, gliding on the drafts that lifted up from the moon's core. She soared above the city, streaking along with other Rito. Laughter danced out of her mouth, her large yellow beak glinting in the light of the sun poking into view.

The Moon was away from the World Below, and though it fueled the tide and the light of night, still scholars debated if the Moon was a part of the Golden Goddesses' creation. They had created the First World, which over millennia had split into other timelines, separate realities where paths went different. New Dragon Roost existed in the so-called Rito Timeline, a split of the Adult Timeline.

Medli had been there when the Timelines were discovered, and when they had been breached. One of her closest friends years go was a trans girl from that reality, whose ashes had sprinkled from the Moon to the World Below. She had loved Medli's home, a place that was less hateful than her home of Skyloft.

Her name was Green, and with her retractable Mag-Shield she could deflect any metal, and her Mag-Beetle let her launch a robotic beetle, which would latch where it landed, and magnetically pull Green through the air like a grappling hook. Both were gifts by Medli, thanks for Green being Green. Green had lived over a century, but all mortal things pass. Still, there was a hope in Medli that Green would reincarnate, and they could be friends again.

Medli sighed. Centuries had passed without a new Green. But Medli knew it was possible, especially for someone as important as Green, a possible Hero. It was possible, it had to be. One day Green would show up again, dancing and swinging across the World Below.

Green had asked her gifts be entombed somewhere of Medli's choosing where a Hylian might one day find it. She had chooses the Kingdom of New Hyrule, the new home of the Hylian Race where steam had ruled, trains linked the country together, and balloons sailed overhead. At least it had ages past.

Medli swooped through the air, her feathered wings sweeping her across the dome. She raced up, before pirouetting in the air. She spun, before catching herself on her wings and returning to gliding through the dark grey and crimson red city.

As she flew a bell dinged, and she altered her course. Speeding past one of the Spirit-Radios that dominated New Dragon Roost's skyline, she came upon hundreds of small cylinders launching into the air. As they rose the cylinders transformed, swinging and shifting their frames to turn into metallic bird-like Weldos.

The Weldos split off, sweeping over the city, searching for the day's damage. Medli chased one of them, following as it hovered in front of a cracked wall. From its beak blasted a beam, which sealed and melded over the cracks.

"Thank you Weldos," she hovered behind the drone, dipping her head.

"You_are_welcome_Medli." The drone replied, before divebombing away to complete its rounds. She nodded with a smile, and swooped away, twirling in a barrel roll as she arced around a tower.

Heat pumped through her arms, sending her into a whirlwind. She laughed, twisting in a circle, before diving straight down, wings raised like she was about to cartwheel. With a fluff her wings retracted, and she landed on her arms, vaulted, and landing on her feet. She laughed, and then wandered into the greater hub of buildings.

She stopped presently, as a large Spirit-Radio flashed in front of a crowd. "The so-called Steam Arrow is to launch in one year, with a crew of New Hyrule colonists to found their first settlement on the Moon." Three dimensional muted images crackled above the box, showings the large arrow shaped spaceship. It was a gold and blue thing, vibrant with the symbols of the New Hyrule Royal Family.

The image changed, to a group shot of the current crew. A Goron stood among them, along with one of the Guardians - New Hylian tech developed by the Sheikah. The Guardian was an somewhat octopus-like robot, with many tentacles and linked by screws and springs. Guardians were not very intelligent, but the were smarter than many dogs, able to grasp concepts and orders. They were guards as the name suggested, protecting New Hyrule from Bulblin bandits and monsters. More and more of the Constructs were built every year, and from what Medli heard they were almost common now.

Some Sheikah stood in the crowd, their dark skin and red eyes making them stand out in contrast to the Hylians. The Hylians made up the bulk of the crew, of course, and their skin varied from brown to peach, their eyes equally as differing. They were the most common race in New Hyrule, and they counted the Royal Family among their ranks...

"Who is that child?" Medli flew up to the picture. The girl in the picture wore a simple dress, which had elements of a blacksmith's apron. Wrenches clung to her sides, and her skin was a light brown, her eyes red - she might have a Sheikah parent. She held a Fire Rod to her side, a magic-powered staff used by Hylians for welding. A Hookshot hung from her waist, useful in maneuvering in space. A mechanic probably.

But it was the girl's smile, the way she held her hands, the way she positioned her feet, her stance, her posture, the way her eyes shined...

Medli flew away, soaring onto a platform suspended off the buildings. Taping a button with her foot a box rose up, a small Spirit-Radio hooked up to the networks that ran New Dragon Roost. In New Dragon Roost terminals were available to the residents in every dome, for a quick fact check, a read-up on a new journal or short story, or research.

She had a Slate of her own, a beautiful portable computer powered by Chu Chu Batteries that she currently had latched onto her back, but it didn't update wirelessly, it needed to be within range of a signal to work. There were plenty in New Dragon Roost but oh, she was too excited to find one. Regardless, she spoke firmly, trying not to shake, "crew of the Steam Arrow mechanics."

The radio crackled, before showing a number of articles. "Soon form top." The image flickered, and then it showed all the mechanics' portraits in a row. "Fifth from the right, second row," she directed the machine, letting it select the girl. The image adjusted as text appeared, and now a Medli could see the girl's blonde hair.

"Linkle Greencloth - minor engineer - from the town of Papuchia. Parents unknown, found abandoned at a Temple of Hylia." She scrolled through the information. Linkle was ... different from Green in origin, but there was a resemblance in movement. An ... air.

Medli pulled away, letting the radio retract. It was ... Medli felt her feathers go electric. It was ... it was a year away. She could look up more by then. And maybe the first thing she could do would be to send a message. Maybe offer Linkle the challenge of looking for the Relics of Green. If she can find them, earn them, well then that's a good chance it's a reincarnation of the Heroine. And really, no one ever got this far before.

She flew away, she had things to do of course. And if the Heroine had reincarnated, then perhaps the Moon would need a savior in these coming years. She couldn't inform the guards, the Sage Medli was lost to history now, a footnote in the current age. Most assumed she just had a family heirloom that let her leave the domes, gave her air. She had the sway of a normal Rito, which was some, but her word didn't matter much when it came to possible dangers she couldn't prove. Still, she would get to be there for when the Steam Arrow landed, in case help was needed.

Chapter One

Linkle smelled of Cucco feathers and grease, the stink had never left her even as she had grown older into the young woman she was now. Clutched around her neck was a chain, with a compass strung to it. It was a relic of the Age of Steam, she had bought it an a yard sale, given it to her grandmother. Her mother had been worried she was being swindled. Linkle probably had been. But she loved that compass all the same.

Her fingers danced at the weightless feeling she felt, a massive grin on her face, a giggle off her lips, she could feel New Hyrule's gravity dwindle and fade, as she rose like a shooting star. Like ... like a Cucco on the warpath, seeking vengeance for someone hitting part of their flock.

But even still, there was a fear. A nameless fear. Not that the ship would veer off course, or that it would crash, or that Lunark would not be habitable, nor that the Rito would be hostile. As far as she was concerned the future moon colony of New Hyrule was the safest place to be right now. And that, that crept into her smile and twisted it in on itself.

She shook her head, she was no coward, she had signed up to establish a colony when most of the Hylians had shrugged away from, she had been qualified too. She was grave, facing the terror of space.

And deep in her heart she felt like she was running. It made her stomach twist, even more than the sheer pressure did. The rocket was blasting into the sky, but the motion sickness from the speed seemed only worsened by her fears for her home. Things had not been going well.

Breathe!" Captain Marlon ordered over the intercom, as Linkle gasped. She almost ... almost forgot to breathe. The force had been so strong. Still she could hear other colonists gasp, they had forgotten to breathe too.

She glanced to her side, unable to stand, the force against her too strong. She strummed her compass, twisting the chain around her fingers. Gradually she relaxed, forcing that unease down. This was awesome. She was ... she was going on a life defining journey, she was doing great things. And she was one of the first non Rito to reach the moon! She smiled genuinely, still stimming her hands against her chain.

Besides her by her window she could see a photo of Lunark, the colony as it currently had been built by small drones on the surface of the moon. It was nothing like the great New Dragon Roost, the Rito had built a true city over decades and decades. Lunark was just a starting place, New Hyrule's first steps into space.

Linkle was a short biracial girl, half Sheikah, half Hylian. She wore a bulky spacesuit, it made her feel itchy. But soon they would reach the moon, and she could slip back into her freeing hood, feel much lighter. And then the suit would only be needed for when she had to repair the colony, welding together damaged bases and pipes, repairing generators.

She was an engineer aboard the ship, one of thirty six colonists sent by New Hyrule to establish Lunark. There was a Goron, nine Sheikah, Linkle, twenty two Hylians, and at the last minute three Zora had been able to join the crew as well, in part for their expertise in three dimensional environments. Previously the Zora had been unable to be sent, the water needed for the amphibious race was thought to be too heavy to bring. But luckily the drones had found a nearby patch of ice on the Moon, and had mined enough of it to convert a room to a shelter where the Zora could refresh their skin.

She tightened up again, straining to see out the faraway front window. The Steam Arrow was drifting through space, nearing their target on the moon. She couldn't see it yet, it was too small and still too fire away. But she could see the light of the Rito's city of New Dragon Roost, a series of linked domes and tubes that spread far. Their Lobsters flew around it, the magnetic spaceships clutching cargo in their claws.

The year was 317 FNH - the fifth hundred and thirty first year since New Hyrule was founded. Linkle's Hylian ancestors had sailed from their island homes to the continent, using great steamships and frigates to sail to the new world. They had built trains, castles - they had built an elaborate civilization, which they had named after the legendary kingdom of Hylians spoke of in ancient lore.

New Hyrule was ... very Hylian dominant. Linkle knew that well. The Royal family were Hylians, most of the Castle Guard was Hylian too, not counting the mechanical Guardians that also protected Castle Town. But the major mayors were Hylians, the most well known knights were Hylians, it was very ... focused on them. And that was without the Children of Hylia and their special brand of hate. Linkle ... well she was a coward wasn't she?

The ship continued to drift forward, the extreme force formerly ramming into the colonists had subsided. Now they were just propelled forward, towards the large rocky moon.

Among them were the Sea of Satellites, small metal contraptions launched by both countries. They swarmed around the planet, broadcasting radio signals from city to city. They had helped revolutionize communication, mapping, and some were even manned. They even had a joint space station, though it frequently had problems

The Steam Arrow chugged through the sea, passing by the assortment of probes and machines that maintained the world below. It was utterly quiet, the only sound was the ship's Guardian, a large mechanized octopus-like machine built to defend the new colony from asteroids. Linkle was not very skilled at repairing them, still a bit clumsy on the detailed jobs, but she knew the basics. Mostly however other engineers aboard the crew would need to repair it if necessary. She was more of backup.

For now the Guardian was just humming in place, held in the ship's cargo with other supplies like grass seeds and a few Cucco eggs. The fowl birds would be hatched only when they could afford to have them eat alongside the colonists, and that depended on if the lunar drones had been able to start a successful farm. Linkle had some say in that, aside from helping with maintenance, her farm upbringing meant she was a good person to occasionally help with the farming. That was, when she wasn't working on that ... kind of weird assignment. Weird, but incredibly cool. She knew things were looking up when she got that mission.

They continued to drift, sailing deeper into space, ever nearing the moon. In the bowls of the Steam Arrow glowed crystalline batteries, magic gems with one purposes - to boil water. The water pumped through the vents on the ship, expelling steam to propel the ship forward, to turn, and to slow. The rocket that had launched them to space had already fallen away, now the traditional reliable steam power took over. In the absence of gravity, a small burst of steam was all they needed to maneuver.

Radio signals to and from Lunark were ... scattered. The sheer distance, and the lack of known magical sources on the moon meant the colony relied solely on steam power and what magic sources they could had sent to the surface. The Rito's empowering of the moon's core helped, but it was geothermal, which was a technology New Hyrule had little experience in.

The ship adjusted suddenly, and Linkle tightened, clutching her seat. The insides of the ship was lined with blue velvet and golden polish, a regal color that made the Steam Arrow resemble a flagship of the Royal Armada—

Linkle felt her hands twitch at the thought, her smile drooping — everything was going to be okay, everything was going to be okay. The ... the nation would reaffirm Zelda as their Queen, this political madness would end, everything would be okay. No one honestly would vote for Hilda. Well, the Children of Hylia would but ... but they wouldn't win in this coup. They wouldn't.

Linkle felt her brown skin become lead, drowning her in a sea of fear. Her hands jittered and she clutched her compass chain, threading her hands through it. With her other hand she pried from her belt her Shekiah Warparty Knife. She twisted its appendages in and out, different sized wrenches, different screwdrivers - not the knives - but the other tools, flicking them back and forth to stimulate herself.

Finally her breath calmed, or at least it balanced out. They were now much closer now. She smiled, everything was okay. She glanced over, relaxing more as she spotted Mīfa. A young Zora, her skin was red and white, her head-fins and her head-tail draped gently on her shoulders. The fish-like girl was sleeping, her eyes shot and her chest rising softly, like water lapping against the sea at low tide.

Linkle felt her cheeks go maroon as her smile widened, looking at Mīfa sleep. Then the girl worried that her staring was creepy, and quickly turned away, shifting to look out the widow to the stars beyond. From her window she could spy the edge of the moon, it just coming into her view. The better view was the window at the front of the ship, but she was feeling a bit uncomfortable about looking so close to her crush.

The Steam Arrow suddenly began to shift, a series of bursts of steam spurted out of Linkle's side of the ship. The ship began to turn in space, twisting as the vented gas propelled them to turn on its side. They were landing.

Another blast of steam erupted, then a wave erupted from every side of the ship. Mīfa bolted awake, eyes wide, and impulsively Linkle grabbed her hand. The Zora flinched, then spotted Linkle's smile and vibrating eyes. The Zora whispered "thanks," before squeezing Linkle's hand hard. Linkle tried not to faint.

The ship by now was descending sideways, leveling out so that when it landed the windows and seats would be flat with the rocky terrain. There was no lander, because this was not a two way trip. There was not enough water to get them both ways, it would weight too much to carry, and the discovery of lunar ice came too late. They would spend their lives on the Moon, and die there too.

Lurch.

Mīfa squeezed hard at that moment, and Linkle stared ahead of herself in surprise. Mīfa had such ... powerful a grip for a archivist. Or were all archivists really tough, were they like library knights? Mīfa could lift so many boxes of boxes with that strength, but she probably also really gentle with the delicate parchment of ancient scrolls.

It occurred to Linkle while she was blushing a fierce maroon that she didn't really know the details of what being an archivist entailed. She should ask Mīfa. But she wouldn't right now, and instead she would just try not to pass out from Mīfa's strength.

They were ensnared in the Moon's gravity, weak as that pull was. Now the steam stopped venting behind them, it was all focusing on slowing their descent and stabilizing the fall.

Hiss. Hiss. Hiss.

The craft shook as descent slowed, but Linkle had little view of it. She could just about see the light of a Rito outpost, and Lobsters hauling mined resources from the mine towards their city.

Hiss.

She laughed as a burst of steam disheveled her hood. She was wearing a small green jacket underneath her thick and blubber-y navy blue coat, and the hood rested on her head. As she giggled she caught Mīfa smiling at her. The Zora was rolling her eyes a bit, but her smile didn't seem angry or rude. Just ... happy.

Hiss.

Gradually metal and glass rectangular came into view, each with air locks and tubing linking them to other buildings. Little octopus-like mechanized drones scuttled about, their bodies controlled by Spirit Stones, one of the pair was built into their chassis, and the other stone was back in New Hyrule controlled by a scientist.

Thump.

They had landed.

Linkle stared at the base around them, it looked flat against the lunar landscape, made up of vaguely hemispheric chambers chained together with tubes, creating a system sort of like the piping of a city or like a tree's branches.

"Alright everyone," Captain Marlon announced over the intercom, "we have landed. No pressure, but our nation depends on us. The drones will begin emptying the cargo of supplies, but right we need to wait for the ship to be hooked up to the base before departing. Engineers, mechanics - grab your gear and any personal affects you need, you get first run if the base."

Linkle put her other hand on Mīfa's hand, who nodded and released her. She and the five others stood up, ready to go. She picked up her Slate, Fire Rod, Hookshot, and her special cargo bag, and put away her Sheikah Warparty Knife. She nodded, and walked down the ship towards the next compartments. She passed the rest of the crew, stimming with her compass as she walked. She climbed into one of the changing rooms, it sealed behind her, and she grabbed her soft mesh change of clothes, and began to slid it over her thick coat. Between her hooded tunic, her leggings, her installation coat and pants, and the mesh - it was a wonder she could move freely. She wore more than the rest, but she wasn't going to be nude.

She clasped the Dragon Scale mask over her mouth, and a bubble of liquid air flowed from it over her. She breathed, the bubble filling her lungs. Linkle was not particularly skilled at magic, she was better at tinkering and mending with stuff, but the magical device didn't rely on her own magic potential, it had a battery.

She pulled the lever on the small compartment, making a timer begin to click. Then in a blast it swung open, and she stepped outside.

Immediately she drifted in the exposed lunar atmosphere, her steps uneasy. Gravity was ... she had prepared for it but not well enough. She had never been coordinated but - whoa! She jump-skipped as she leapt out, hooking her gear to her belt. She stumbled, skidding about, nearly falling, before a large rocky hand grabbed her.

"Careful wee one," laughed Gorogroose over their suits' radio. He was a Goron, one of the rocky mountain people who lived mostly apart from New Hyrule society. They mined and crafted the metalwork of the nation, and occasionally helped maintain and improve the railroads of the country. She nodded at him, her smile beaming a lightless glow, as a Zora and three Sheikah descended from the ship as well. She nodded to them with equally excited grins, before hobbling over towards the hatch. She ran a bit too fast for the gravity, soared, and fell over.

Gorogroose picked her up, and she bowed, before scooting to give the others space. The group grabbed the ring around the hatch, and began to unscrew it, extending it into an inflatable tube. The tiny drones grabbed the tubing, and hauled it along the moon, while the people extended a metal floor. Gorogroose grabbed the nearest hatch on the base, and by himself he pulled it out too. Finally they both linked, and Linkle came forward, using her Fire Rod to help weld it shut. The ship wasn't moving again, it could be welded in.

"Okay Ma'am, we're about ready for you. Just got some checks to make..." he trailed off, staring behind them, "Linkle, check that out will yay, through I saw something moving out there, bigger than a drone dat's far sure."

She nodded, and leapt away, stumbling on the landing into a tumble, before jumping up again. Linkle traversed across the base, until she say a Rito girl.

The girl waved to her, before smoothing her feathers. Linkle couldn't see an oxygen tank or a mask, was this some new Rito tech? The girl in the meantime extended her hand, a smile on her face. Linkle grabbed it, nearly falling, before laughing a smile at the Rito. This was incredible, just look at the stuff Linkle was doing already! Making first contact! Kinda.

"Hello, I am M-E-D-L-I" the Rito signed, dipping her head, "Welcome to the Moon! Sorry for intruding, the other who are coming wanted to wait to welcome you, but I guess I was just a bit too excited." A large yellow beak peaked her face, red eyes illuminated her, brown hair, and unusually pale skin for a Rito. Perhaps she was biracial somehow?

"Hello, I am Linkle. Thank you for greeting us. How are you breathing?"

"Linkle!" The Rito said excitedly, "I have a message for you. Did you find the Treasures? Oh, sorry. I had to have some of my body rebuilt when I was a lot younger, it made me not require air."

Linkle stared, sure enough Medli had mechanisms built into her, it was subtle, barely noticeable, but she could see some signs, her eyes especially were mechanical, they looked like a Pictobox's lens if you looked close enough.

Linkle then gave a thumps-up, beaming, "I found them yeah!" Then she slowed. How ... how did this Rito girl know about them. That was a secret mission, only the Captain knew and whoever gave her her super secret mission. So how...?

"Awesome," Medli signed, "sorry, that's rude, you are stressed, no need to talk about it. Sorry for being creepy. I'll explain later, but right now I brought a gift for your colony." She held up a small capsule, with a red and blue swirled gem embedded in it. Linkle grasped it from her, feeling it. "Weld-O-S?" She asked, her heart beginning to pump quickly.

"Yep. It's altered to work on your radio wavelengths, it should be able to follow your messages and help weld and repair your base." Linkle clutched it to her chest, smiled, grabbed Medli's hand, and led her towards the Steam Arrow.

Chapter Two

"I want to show you something," Linkle signed, as she stood outside the Zora cabin. The barracks she was in was close to the the Zora pool, where fresh water mined from the ice was dispersed, becoming a small pond for the three Zora to dwell in. She had volunteered to help make sure there were no leaks, as the water might eat at the container. That would be her shifts her maintenance, the rest of her work would be her mission, at least until the farm got set up.

Originally the chamber was meant to be a barracks for a total of eleven crew members. But when the ice was discovered the Zora had lobbied to get three of their best and brightest aboard the Steam Arrow, along with some scores of frozen eggs. The Zora Monarchy was politically subordinate to the Royal Family, they were just one territory in New Hyrule. But Queen Zelda had been responsive, and had granted three members passage along with a variety of frozen eggs, in place of the eleven Hylians originally planned.

Queen Zelda was not perfect, but she had been working with her people in mind. She had outlawed the child labor of the past centuries, giving children a free education, whether them Hylians, Zora, or even the Bulblin tribes who got along New Hyrule. Well, the tribes that were conquered by New Hyrule, and in practice the Bulblin children were being punished for their traditions by many teachers, though it wasn't endorsed by Zelda. Still, it was clear Zelda was not perfect, or even wondrous. And there were rumors about her orders regarding the use of Guardians in other countries.

Still, she did good things too. She had helped decriminalize transgender people, now people like Linkle had some rights. Like, now if the girl was murdered her killer couldn't claim he was just shocked by her and killed in surprise. That had been a 'valid' defense and ... Linkle was happy to have lived under Queen Zelda. And Zelda had legalized inter-racial marriages, now Linkle's parents didn't need to hide their love, except when the Children of Hylia were mobbing. Oh ... oh gods above please.

Queen Zelda was in a scandal. A fake scandal, but it was all the radio talked about. About her carrying vital documents in a meeting with the Rito, risking valuable state secrets. The Guard had already confirmed that the action was nothing new, but the radio stations just ... and now the courts were debating between giving Hilda the throne. Hilda, the cousin who everyone knew was with the Children of Hylia, who wanted to build a wall blocking off the whole Great Sea and exiling all Zora who had Rito sympathies.

"What is it?" Mīfa asked, shaking her body off as she stood up.

"It's a long story," Linkle signed frantically, trying to focus on the excitement. Soon enough it over took her with a genuine joy, "but I was told by my guild to track down an artifact before the launch, to study. I found two, and was told to bring them, not cataloging them to senior engineers. And ... the things are old. And the Rito girl who greeted us first, she knew about them."

"What? I ... what do you need me for?"

"Well, you are really smart, you know a lot, and I-I like you. So if, if anyone could tell if they are some Rito artifact, you might?"

Linkle meant that genuinely.

"Okay," she nodded, then smiled with her sharp teeth. Linkle smiled back.

"Come on," Linkle led her away, stopping periodically to sign, "I ... the girl seemed genuinely exited to see us, and a bit nervous, looking for approval I think. I don't think she is bad. And it's not some conspiracy, I mean that would be ridiculous. I think it's a favor. Like her grandma had them, and she had helped New Hyrule."

"Ah, that makes sense," Mīfa grinned a big tooth smile, "so if there was a past Rito who helped New Hyrule, it should be in history. I'll check my Slate," she stopped over, picking it up, "I was going to say, Rito tech is ... hard to come by in New Hyrule, but if you think it might be from a warrior, then I should be able to find something."

The two women walked away, squeezing through the tight tubing that linked the base together. It was squish-able, the floor was hard and firm but the roof and sides were like a balloon, filled and given its shape with air. They passed through the kitchen, stepping into another tube, then Linkle's part of the barracks.

She leaned over the bed, it was a small compartment of a room, with a bed and built in drawers and lights. She slid open a drawer, pulling out a bag. She emptied it, exposing two golden bracelets, one with a small circle made of adjustable mechanisms, and one with a beetle on the outside.

"Strange they ... they aren't really in the style of the Rito," Mīfa grasped the first of them, "more like ... Hylian Royalty. Your idea of there being a link between this girl and New Hyrule could happen. Where did you find it?"

"In a cave," Linkle signed, "full of traps and Keese. I think it was a tomb, the objects were resting besides an urn. The Rito burn themselves when they die, right?"

"You know your stuff," Mīfa grinned, "yes, they do it in honor of their dragon god Valoo."

"V-A-L-O-O?"

"In Rito lore he was a lesser God compared to the Three Golden Goddesses, but he was their chosen protector. When Old Hyrule was flooded by the Three the freshwater Zora were poisoned and hunted by the new ocean predators. Some of the Zora adapted and fled, they became my ancestors. But others could only find refuge on the new islands, and though they were amphibious, they still needed water. They nearly died."

"But then Valoo descended onto Dragon Roost Island, and granted each Rito a scale. The scales were mutagenic, and helped the Zora evolve feathers, wings, and a terrestrial lifestyle. The new Rito in turn made a pact with him, serving him with Attendants and honoring him in their art and beliefs. And so it remained for centuries, until finally he faded away."

"Wow, do ... do you think it is true?" Linkle flapped her hands, almost in awe of the story of gods and covenants.

Rito laughed, "I don't know. But the Rito evolved in an incredibly rapid amount of time, we know that from their archives, and we know a dragon did live on Dragon Roost for centuries, and the Rito would climb to him to receive a scale as they reached adulthood."

"...Do you think Valoo died? Can ... can a god die?" Linkle signed, frantic in her signs. It was incredible, but scary too. If even a god could pass, it was so much to ponder.

"...Are you sure you want to go into this?" Ruth laughed, rubbing her head tail with her hand, looking away. Linkle was silent, then offered her hand. Mīfa grasped it, and then took a deep breath.

"The Rito believe he is not dead. They believe he just left for heaven, choosing champions in time of great stress like their fabled sage Maud Lee, and the greatest inventors of their Republic of the Great Sea. They still worship him, most of them they keep to his deal, though every Rito has an opinion on what his words meant. The Rito beliefs encourage debate and interpretation, for the most part at least. They are ... a bit less religiously fervent than some."

Linkle signed carefully, "If I ever make you uncomfortable, please let me know and I will stop it."

Mīfa blushed for the first time, her cheeks bursting into a magenta glow, "I-I didn't mean you. I ... I know some Hylians think the Goddess Hylia has made them in her image and appointed them the masters of the world but I ... you don't seem arrogant."

Linkle blushed too, signing, "I-I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, I think Hylia loves all kind life, from her followers to the godless. She ... I think she passed away, died a long time ago for us. Because she ... I do not think would be okay with what her followers do. It's ... it's not what her word says."

"...Hold on," Mīfa changed the subject, making Linkle smile, "if these are Rito tech, they must have abilities. Clasp them on, maybe they will work."

"But you are a Zora, you would have the best chance. And if they are meant for Medli—"

"I thought you were curious," Mīfa grinned, "and I can't figure out what they are if I'm the one wearing them, I need a good view."

Linkle nodded, and clasped first one bracelet on, then the next. She looked at them, they shined. She signed, "should we do this outside? Where the camp can't be damage?"

"Right," Mīfa nodded.

A short while later both were dressed in their Space Mail, a score or two of yards away from the camp. Mīfa gave a thumbs-up, standing not too far away.

Breathing, Linkle held up her left arm, focusing. From what she had studied, they seemed to be designed to react to thoughts—"

Buzz-Zap.

The circle expanded and unfolded, before a curved four pronged star. A blue glow flowed around and in between the prongs, like a bubble of electricity.

"Oh my Naryu," Mīfa radioed her new friend over their suits' frequency, "I ... I've seen something like that. I can't place where, but I think it's a shield. It should be able to repeal any metal attack, whether gunpowder-powered, arrow, or blade. It couldn't protect you from like a Guardian's beam, but it could protect you from pretty much any soldier. It's old, they know have better tech, armor that does the same thing both for their ships or their people. But still this is ... this is incredible. And the other?"

Linkle wondered if it was a weapon, the offense to match the shield's defense. She aimed her right bracelet at a fairly far off rock, focusing. She could do this, she could do it - just imaging it impacting the rock, striking it like some energy weapon—

Suddenly the beetle blasted off of her bracelet, flying like a missile into the rock. And then suddenly there was a glow, before she was hurled after the beetle, a blue recoiling chain of electricity linking bracelet and beetle.

Linkle landed at the rock in a heap. Breathing she pulled herself upright, this ... this was a grappling hook of sort. Like her Hookshot only much more range, and powered by magnetism not gears.

She shot besides Mīfa, before being dragged in a burst of speed up to her. She stumbled from the sheer speed, and Mīfa helped her up.

"I swear I have heard about a matching magnetic grappling hook and a shield," she said, "its ... it's something. I'll check my Slate right now. Come with me, it'll take a bit for the info to load, so far away from New Hyrule, but I think I know where to look."

The two started to run, when Linkle's instincts took over. Grabbing Mīfa's hand, she fired her beetle, launching the two of them through the air. With a tap they tumbled into the air, laughter crackling over the radio.

Shortly Mīfa was pouring through her Slate, activating rune after rune. "Ah," she said suddenly, "the legend of Greensky. It's centuries old it's hard to read, looks like much of it is in Rito databases, and I don't have a Rite. But..."

"It looks like ... she was a Hylian from ... another country? The key word can mean history or country, it's a bit ambiguous, context means it's probably country maybe? Ugh, this dialect is kinda obscure, I think it's east coastal? Give me a second..."

"Okay she gained favor with the Rito because ... ugh the original parchment is faded, I think she saved a flying island? But the word island is weird, it might be a Rito experimental ship or it might have been one of the literal flying islands, but for saving it she received these two treasures, and the friendship of ... I can't make out that word, maybe the Rito - ugh we really need to keep better track of information, this is why for centuries the Great Sea forgot it was over the flooded ruins of Old Hyrule. Thank goodness the Hero of Winds rediscovered it, that led to a rebirth of knowledge."

"So it is a Hylian heroine's gifts? A Heroine?" Linkle almost flapped from her excitement, could this be meant for her? Was she some sort of destined hero? That was incredible, she would have to work really hard, being the first Hero on the Moons was not going to be easy, but she could do it.

"I think so, you think someone put her up to retrieve them? If she seemed so nervous and worried about your opinion, maybe she is being blackmailed to retrieve them, like whoever told you to retrieve them. Do you know who it was?"

Linkle pouted, and shook her head. Mīfa had a point, she supposed she would have to be careful. Still, just because there might be a conspiracy didn't mean she couldn't be a real Hero.

"...Does Captain Marlon know about all this?"

"She knows I had artifacts to study. But she did not know this story or their abilities. Sorry that was obvious wasn't it, since we just learned about it ourselves. We ... we should tell her too. She is in charge of the colony, she needs to know all our resources and potential obstacles, right?"

"We should," Mīfa nodded, and the two of the made their way back through the maze of tubes and chambers. Finally they found her in the Spirit Radio room, her head in her hands.

"Linkle, please tell me you have good news," Marlon said, not lifting her head. She was a large Hylian, built a bit like a temple - legs of marble pillars and eyes of gold. As she held her head her other hand pressed against the radio, shoving it away from her body.

"Um, we might know what the artifacts are?" Mīfa said, "there is a legend of a Hylian heroine who gained favor with the Rito, and was given treasures like the bracelets. We also found out at least some of their functions. Is ... is something wrong?"

"Mīfa, you are Zora royalty right?" she muttered.

"Um, distantly. I am of the royal line, but my mom is not very closely related to the Monarchy. I'm very far from the throne, barely linked at all. W-why? Has something happened back home!" Linkle squeezed Mīfa's hands, trying to comfort her.

"I ... I thought ... I am very disappointed in our country," the captain rubbed her face, "I ... I thought our people ... the courts, the nobles they ... I ... I'm very tired. I just ... I worry some of us were sent here to escape. Sergeant always had a soft spot for me since I was a cadet."

"What, what is happening?"

"Zelda was stripped of the throne this morning. Hilda is going to be crowned Queen of New Hyrule."

Linkle flopped over, Mīfa catching her. The Zora's hands grew cold, "has ... how are my people doing?"

"The Children of Hylia have been overjoyed," Marlon spat, "they have gotten ... a lot more bold. The Zora palace was splattered with pig's blood in a frenzy, two young Zora were assaulted in Castle Town when they walked too close to a victory celebration. That's the first of it too, it can only get worse."

"I ... oh," Mīfa was quiet, her hands clutching around Linkle. Linkle was limp, just unable to move. It ... it couldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible. It ... the leaders of New Hyrule couldn't ... look at Hilda. She refused to reject the Children of Hylia, refused to hold them accountable for their violence, and now ... now that their champion was going to be Queen, they would be emboldened. They would become bolder, more cruel, more violent.

Chapter Three

I leapt into the air, before expanding my wings. I swooped, gliding, before touching the ground and vaulting back into the air. On my back was not only a bag, but the city. New Dragon Roost illuminate behind me, the gunmetal and crimson city out of view save for its glow. I skipped and launched again, vaulting into the sky.

I tapped down, and then flow again, leaving a puff of dust behind me. I swept my wings behind me in strokes, I couldn't fly in this atmosphere, not enough air, but I could glide a bit.

Around my neck was a small Slate, designed to be capable of interfacing with New Hyrule tech, though it was clearly a RotGS invention. It bounced and jiggled on its cord, whacking lightly into me as I soared closer.

Up ahead I could see the glint of metal, I was getting closer to Lunark.

Phew.

A blast of energy blasted through the air, closer but not striking me. A warning shot? I swooped down, tapping my feet down onto the rock. A Guardian was up ahead, patrolling. It reminded me of an Octorok, the large mollusks of the Great Sea that hurled rocks at intruders. Though, this machine was a lot more dangerous. That beam could shred a Hylian to death twice over.

I began to dance.

As my feet tapped and leapt across the ground, the moon began to shake. With a twist and lurch rock erupted between me and the Guardian, forming a barrier.

Phew.

The wall of rock shook, but it did not break. Okay then. Flicking my fingers through my feathers as a nervous stim, I plucked up a Spirit Radio from my bag. It had taken a few days to dissect it into its current form, but I had succeeded.

"Hello, Lunark?"

Phew.

"This is Medli of New Dragon Roost. I was hoping to offer my aid to your colony?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm scared, and I need to do something."

"...You know magic?"

"I know some, mostly earthen magic. I can help you mine or build emergency shelters. I also know my way around my people's technology, but I am not sure how much use that will be to you. I will live outside of the colony in plain view, and you may look through my personal objects if you need to."

"...What do you want from us?"

"...Friendship might be nice?" She was quiet for a bit, I know the request was loaded, of course it was, but I was being honest.

"...We'll look you over. I am ordering the Guardian to let you pass."

"Thank you very much," I grinned with my voice, before putting the radio away. I momentarily checked my bags, before walking towards the colony.

Lunark seemed okay, but I tasted something in the air, an emptiness. People were not moving around much here, kicking up dusty or debris. They were just staying in. I hoped I could help.

I stepped forward, as two Hylians greeted me, holding out pickaxes. I bowed, before they grabbed me, squeezing on my body. I ... ugh, lot of touching. I felt shivers of unease, I nearly phased out of my body. But I held firm as they searched searched searched uh I wanted to vomit. But I didn't. Too many people counted on me.

Finally they stopped, before a Zora walked up, and gestured to my bag. I complied, letting her look through it. A spirit-radio, a charger, a few old scrolls, a couple of figures, an old drawing - nothing too interesting. The Zora radioed their fellows, and they let me in.

I walked into a large chamber, with a desk and a small bed. Towering above me was the Captain, her arms folded her eyes trying not to narrow.

"Your parents know you are here?" Captain Marlon asked, looking at my size. She was a wide woman, and she radiated heat like Dragon Roost Mountain itself, boiling to the invader but soothing to the people she took care of. I still laughed a little, and shook my head.

"They died ages ago," I explained, "My people know I am here though, I accept individual liability if this goes wrong. Sorry, it won't go wrong."

"Uh huh. So just to clarify, what do you want?"

"I am worried Lunark might have a hard time adapting. I do not mean to be rude, sorry if that sounded doubting, but I know the moon is a difficult place to colonize. I wanted to make sure all of your people survive and thrive."

"..." the Captain nodded slowly, "...I understand. I hope all of us, Zora, Goron, Sheikah, and Hylian can flourish here too, alongside you Rito, and I will lay my life on the line for that." She said that firmly, passionately, I wanted to believe her. So I did.

I smiled, "So, if you are okay with my help, what would you like me to do. I could strength your foundations, try to prevent any tremors, I could help excavate ore, maybe manipulate earth to haul ice to your base - what do you want?"

"...First familiarize yourself with the crew," she said at first, then suddenly she scowled, "no other reason you are here is there? Just helping everyone get along? Nothing to do with some old bracelets?"

"No those belong to Linkle," I laughed, then added softly, in case any of her guards were listening, still smiling, "they were a gift to New Hyrule. If Linkle has them, she had to have earned them. She is a good person, with the soul of a Heroine."

"...What are you saying?"

"Rely on her. I know some magic but I am better at the divine," I dropped my voice low, "I believe that Linkle is a reincarnation of someone with a divine nature, an ancient Heroine from a long forgotten history."

"...What?" Captain Marlon stared, unfolding her arms with surprise.

"There is a sense I got from seeing her, meeting her. Many of my people forgot her legend, but I think she might be a reincarnation of this champion. And since she found the Bracelets of her possible predecessor, I believe my faith is well placed."

"...Are you a priestess?"

"Something like that," I answered, looking calmly at her face as best I could, "I am a bit of a Sage."

"...You are aren't you?" the Captain murmured "is 'Medli' your real name?"

"It is the only name I ever had," I answered.

"...Go along and meet the crew. And don't talk to Linkle about this idea you have, okay? Too much pressure on her, she flusters easily. Anyone is gonna tell her, it should be me. Not gonna bar you from her, but don't pressure her, got it? She's still a kid, and she hasn't been doing well recently."

I curtseyed, dipping my head, "okay." I departed away, heading into the base. I hadn't planned to confront Linkle about being a reincarnation of Green, that could come later. Right now it was important that she and the others were okay.

I found my way to a Goron, blocking the way. I curtseyed to him, "hello sir Goron. I am sorry to intrude—"

"The Captain briefed me on yar arrival," he grabbed my hand in his large stone finges, and swung me around with an enthusiastic shake, "pleasure ta have ya! We need all the help we can get, but don't tell the Captain I said so, she got ta keep up a strong face, ya know?"

I nodded, "I will try to help as best I can. How are things going? You have been here about a week - has your food lasted? Do you need me to create fertile soil?"

"Ya can do that?" He smiled wide.

"Well I ... I have done it in the past, not with moon rock but I think I could do it. I hope. I could get it rich enough for grass to grow at least—"

"Hey, then our birds will have plenty to eat," he laughed, then frowned, "sorry, is bird rude? Haven't really meet a Rito before—"

"Birds are fine, we are okay with being called the Bird People," I laughed, "don't about that, there is enough to fear. But you are an engineer right?"

"Aye."

"Can I ask about what you think the base needs most right now?"

"Captain dan tell ya dat, right now ya supposed ta be socializing," he laughed, and I blushed.

"Right, sorry. Well um, you are Gorogroose right? Named for the train engineer?"

"Aye, he helped expand our mines, gave us some trains of our own. Good man, me pop really impressed with him for a squishy folk," he laughed, "you, your name Medli right? Where you get that name? Named for that ancient Sage Maud Lee?"

"Um, no," I blushed, rubbing my hands behind me. I ... was it wrong I felt a bit embarrassed about that name? I should just be happy people remember me at all, let alone remember I was a friend to the Hero of Winds.

"Ya seem a bit ashamed wee one. It ain't wrong to be named after a great Sage, trust me I know about being named for famous people," he grinned, and I grinned back, though a lot more nervously than he did.

"So um, how is everyone handling it?" I rubbed the back of my head. He nodded, and leaned in.

"Air tastes like its thick with smog, most of the squishy folks seem like they can hardly breathe these days. Everyone too scared ta talk about it, well, most of us. Hylians keep saying that everyone will get through this and all will be fine, that we've survived bad Royals before, sounds kinda hollow from them ya know?"

"I understand," I nodded, "you doing okay?"

"Eh, I'm used to being distant from politics, it don't really affect me much up here either. My brothers, them might be in a bit of a bigger rockslide, but we keep ta ourselves and we can handle any lynching them Children of Hylia try ta pull."

"...if you need anything, just ask." He paused at my words, something on his mind, before he simply shrugged, eyes closed.

"Eh, da Captain got me situated, ya can trust her ya know. She a good ma'am, ya need help she will answer."

"Thank you," I grinned, "Um, I hate to be rude, but what are ya guarding?"

"Dat obvious huh? Well I be watching out for two of the wee ones. The Zora room beyond here, and Ms. Mīfa be trying ta cheer up Ms. Linkle. The wee mechanic in a frantic slump, she hasn't been able to do much of recent, too disheartened."

"Do you think I could talk to her?" I asked.

"Ya, course ya could. Just, Captain says if you do, I gotta be there, ya know?"

I nodded, "okay. Did she tell you want I think about Linkle?"

"Aye. Don't go telling her though, not too share if the added pressure might make her fold, she barely doing her work as is. Lot of the squishy folk are running low, but she took it harder than some of the full blooded Sheikah."

I dipped my head, "I will try not to put any more pressure on her. But, what if it might give her confidence?"

"Not ta risk it ya see?" He was firm. So I nodded, and headed inside.

Chapter Four

Linkle was drifting in the water, just trying to feel. The water lapped into her, the cold lingered into her pores, but she just — it was a numbness. An overwhelming emptiness. She should be reacting, she should be doing things but ... energy was gone.

She couldn't move much. She wanted to, she wanted to study those bracelets, to figure how they worked. She wanted to do her jobs, to maintain this cabin and her other assignments, she needed to do all these things. She was chosen to do this job, people relied on her, thirty five people depended on her sharing the work.

But she just ... she felt like a leech had latched on to her back, and had drained the life out of her body, until her mind was a cage in a still rotting prison. And she hated it.

Mīfa was swimming near her, watching out for Linkle. The Zora had needed to ignore her own pain and fears, her own terror, and instead help keep Linkle moving. She felt like a parasite, clutching the life out of Mīfa. And that made the depression only grow.

"Hi."

Linkle flickered her eyes over, looking as the Rito girl approached alongside Gorogroose. She held her arms behind her back, her legs were bent in - she was making herself seem small and not threatening. Linkle wanted to wave, to swim towards her, but right now she felt tightly chained, unable to free herself.

Medli stood by the edge of the water, dipping her head. "Sorry to intrude, is this a bad time?"

"No," Mīfa said quickly, "come in. Um, are your implants waterproof?"

Splash.

"They are," Medli answered, wadding towards the two of them, "hey um, sorry for being weird that one time. I was just excited. Sorry, it was selfish. I want to make it up to you. I am ... just not sure how."

Linkle kept looking at her, as Medli treaded water. She was dressed in a blue dress with a red sash, and had a strange looking Slate around her next. Medli caught Linkle's eyes, looking around, and then grabbed the Slate. "Kind of the twin to your compass," she laughed, "us autistics and our love things."

Linkle tried to life her head, but it was too heavy. Instead she drifted her hand, and signed, "your Slate is very pretty."

"Thank you," Medli trended towards her, "your compass looks beautiful too, was it made in the style of the age of the Hero of Winds?"

Linkle nodded, her other hand flopping onto her chest, before stimming her fingers against the chain. Weaving her hand in and out of the chain, letting the metal links dance between her grip, she couldn't move much, but she could do that.

"You know your hair looks like your chain," Medli smiles, "all braided into interlinking loops. You must work hard to keep it that way."

"Mīfa did it," her hand managed to gesture, her head drooping.

"That's fine, I'm so glad you have someone you can rely on to help you like that," Medli's voice beamed with so much warmth Linkle wanted to close her eyes, "I know my friends saved my life countless times, I never felt like I could make it up to them. So all I can do is appreciate them and do what I can. Even if that isn't much that day."

Linkle looked back at her, as Medli hovered besides her, "anything I can do?" The depressed woman shook her head, this girl didn't even know her, she couldn't accept her help.

Medli drifted around, "Mīfa, is there something I can do for you?"

"No I ... I'll be okay," Mīfa sounded uneasy, and Linkle felt worse. Then suddenly she felt a beak poke into her chest, as her belly rumbled. Linkle bolted upright, blushing, and Medli stopped blowing on her chest.

"Sorry, impulses," Medli offered, but Linkle wasn't so sure.

"Hey, Linkle," the Rito said as the biracial woman joined her in treading in place, "Um, I want to make a deal with you. If that's okay. But I know a bit of my people's technology, I could help you analyze the bracelets. But I'm not an expert on New Hyrule technology. So maybe, we could work together to figure it out. Sometimes I could join you on your rounds, help get a feel for the way your technology works, and I could teach you what I know. We could experiment with that Weldos I gave you."

Linkle nodded, then signed, "I ... won't be much help. I feel like I'd use you."

"Don't worry," Medli said, "that's how I feel about me. Between the two of us, even with our limits, we should be able to get some things done. Sound good?"

Linkle stared at Medli, as memories began to dig out from her subconscious. The legend of Greensky could ... the idea that she was some sort of Heroine - Medli knew things. She ... knew about the Bracelets, she had given her the Weldos now that she thought of it, she might have choose Linkle, she ... she had things to do. She had to do things, she had a great destiny, she had to fulfill it. But this weight she just...

"What would a Heroine do now? What would Greensky do in this world?" That was the thought that Linkle mused in her hand, waiting for Medli to reply.

Medli blushed, then answered slowly, "I think, um, I think she would struggle, but she would try her best, even when she was overwhelmed. And you are doing that already."

"Cough," Gorogroose suddenly had a cough, might be all the moisture in the air messing with him. But usually the Goron was so invulnerable, why was he coughing?

Regardless Linkle nodded, and faked a smile. "I will do my best," she signed, still numb and tired, "I ... will keep fighting. I ... I will keep trying. I am ... I have a calling, I have ... I will need your help. Mīfa's help, sorry. But I ... will fight." She surprised herself with that thought, but it felt right, like it was obvious. She still quaked, her struggles wouldn't end now, but she ... with some pressure off Mīfa, and another friend helping, maybe ... she could do it. She would at least try to fight, as best she could. She ... she would do it. Hopefully.

Medli nodded, and blasted her with a big smile. Linkle tried to answer in kind, but this time the smile was too heavy, she couldn't make even a fake one. She blushed a bit at her failure, as her kicks slowed.

"Mīfa," Medli changed topics, "Um, something wrong?"

" No," Mīfa's face went from her normal red and Peach-tan to a bloody scarlet, "I just ... sorry for staring it's just ... I didn't know your people's robotics was so ... sorry for staring it is rude and classless I shouldn't—"

"It's fine," Medli dismissed, swimming to the edge of the synthetic pond, "I know my face is mechanical. Heck it's hard to find a part of me that isn't. It's all good."

Linkle stared up, now renewing her gaze at Medli. Her eyes were the most obvious mechanism, but there were glints on her fingers, her face — Linkle couldn't see where her body began and the implants ended. It was like all her exposed flesh was metal.

Medli pulled herself out of the water, continuing, ".Mīfa you are an archivist right? Looking up history and discoveries and all. I could get you access to some of the Rito databases if you want, let you hook up to the computer in New Dragon a Roost."

"Th-thank you," Mīfa managed, "I would love to have access, especially since my connection to New Hyrule is so slow up here. But if it's a strain on your people—"

"It's not," the Rito pledged.

"..,Mīfa are you sure you don't need anything?" Medli said in a hush, "even if it's just me visiting. I will have plenty of time to help, I don't need sleep."

"Everyone needs sleep."

"I don't," Medli laughed. Linkle looked at the strange Rito, for a second ... for a second she would have sworn that Medli's red eyes were glowing blue.

"Something wrong?"

Linkle's skin turned maroon, and she threw up her hands, waving them 'no.' Desperately she signed, "Um, so um, I should um, I should leave Mīfa alone now."

"It's no problem," Mīfa objected, but Linkle really wanted to get out of that room. Between the mystery girl who had secrets and an interest in Linkle, to everything and every part of Mīfa - Linkle was starting to feel her skin physically tingle it was, between the two of them and her depression it was ... it was—

"But if you want to go it's okay," Mīfa gave Linkle permission, "just don't feel like I need you to leave. We're alone together on this moon, we gotta look out for each other."

"I just wanted to touch base," Medli nodded, "I don't mean to rush anything—"

"No I ... I need to um, continue my rounds, look on the outside of this room, make sure nothing had cracked or been weathered. Also make sure the Heat Stones are still keeping the water fluid, not freezing. If it starts to freeze then the metal will crack as the water expands and the structure will be damaged. So I ... you can watch I guess."

"I will keep my distance," Medli bowed low.

To Mīfa Linkle said, "I ... I am not trying to be rude. Do you ... how about I ... we listen to music tonight? Something relaxing?"

"Sure. If ... if you want to. You don't owe me anything of course—"

"—I want to."

"I want to too."

"Awesome."

"Yay."

By now both their cheeks were as scarlet as Medli's eyes. Except when her eyes were blue of course, if they changed color but they were red now and gosh this room was hot it felt like Linkle was sucking on a Heat Stone - she hadn't done that of course except when she had been really tiny or when she was distracted—

Linkle suddenly felt Medli holding out had hand, offering for her to squeeze it. Linkle practically tackled the Rito grabbing Medli's hand, pulsating her grip as she tried to steady herself.

Finally Linkle calmed, bowed to Mīfa, and headed out to find her equipment for departing the corridors. Her hands were still a bit shaky, her mind felt very turbulent.

Then inspiration struck, and she stimmed her fingers against her compass, stringing them in rapid succession. Feeling the smooth links, the clattering of metal, the texture of the chain's hoops rubbing against her hand...

When Linkle was a kid, she had broken her grandmother's compass. She had been horrified, frozen in terror. She spent a day panicked. And then the next day she tried to fix it. She was ... not skilled then. Well she was skilled at raising Cucco, but not mechanics, not metal working and all.

It was ... a bad job, but she resealed it. It wasn't great, but her grandmother seemed happy that she had done her best to fix her mistake. And Linkle was happy to have helped too. So she spent more time trying to fix things, most of which weren't broken. And eventually she started figuring out how the things worked too.

Her grandmother gave her the compass on her next birthday, through the latch was stuck, she couldn't open it. Linkle felt bad she broke it but ... she couldn't take it. Grandmother had said it was her most prized possession, she couldn't.

But her grandmother wore her down, saying that Linkle could return it when she got it open. And ... she never got it open. And in the mean time it ... it was very nice to clink her hands against. And now, it was like a little memento of her grandmother, pulsing against her chest.

Linkle shuddered suddenly.

She had to fix this. Somehow she ... she couldn't just panic and huddle. She had to do something. She stimmed across the chain, slipping her fingers back and forth through her clutches, weaving in and out.

"You aren't alone," Medli said softly. Linkle stared at her and nodded, before leading her away.

Chapter Five

Linkle's hands shook as she sat in the meeting room of the New Hyrule colonists, her hands jittery. She could feel the world vibrate like an earthquake ripped through the universe, as Mīfa reached over and clutched her hand. The two of them held to each other, as Captain Marlon continued to speak.

"So, yesterday, on only day seven of the new regime, Queen Hilda hypocritically banned all Fishmen, Rito, Korok, Bokoblins, and even islander humans from traveling to New Hyrule. Hylians aren't even from New Hyrule, it's stolen Bulblin land, but you know what? Doesn't seem to matter. Also doesn't matter that it's completely illegal, not that it has stopped the Guard from enforcing it without pause. And again this was days after ordering troops to quell unrest in the political distant Fire Region."

Linkle was suddenly keenly aware that Medli was not in the room, and that Gorogroose seemed very small compared to his normal posture.

"So, about two hours ago, the Republic of the Great Sea released a statement rejecting Queen Hilda," the Captain explained, "announcing that they did not accept the new regime and they would accept any refugees fleeing from her."

"My old friends in the guard sent a coded message recently, said New Hyrule has also silently been invading Bulblin Camps in the last few days, tearing apart their lands to built new Spirit Tracks. It looks like the goal is to build new mines to fortify the Southern Oceanic border."

"Do they really think they could build a wall across New Hyrule's massive coast?" Mīfa said softly, clutching to Linkle, "it would cost billions of Rupees, and where would they get the labor."

"Right now some of the prisons have been 'volunteering' prisoners to labor in the mines and to build the encampments. This is day Eight of Queen Hilda's reign, and slavery is already being brought out in force."

"And most of it wilt be fa da rest of us!" Gorogroose pounded his fist down, smashing a table, "Even under Zelda most Hylians get less sentences, it charged at all. Hylian smashes up a warehouse, just some ill boy who loves his motha. Goron do it, he an uncontrolled beast!"

"Hey, calm down, no need for viole—" Gorogroose swerved around towards the Hylian, his eyes cold with wear and tear. Linkle could only nod. She ... she felt for him.

"We ... are in a difficult situation," Captain Marlon redirected the discussion, "New Hyrule is beginning to militarize, and word is RotGS is too. Which is bad enough. But the Rito have a real city on this planet, they are fortified and self sufficient. We are an outpost at best. If war breaks out—"

Linkle bolted up, signing, "w-we are not going to war with the Rito!"

"I know, we would not survive. And I ... I do not want my crew to perish because of some militant bigots pushing the button of one of the strongest nations on the World Below. I do not give a damn about being hanged for treason if I do my duty." She grew quiet, looking around, "we need to think what our options are if war is declared."

"N-neutrality," Mīfa managed. The Captain held out her hand to lower her volume, glancing around. She darted her eyes back and forth, quietly.

"Damn drones been following me everywhere today," she muttered, "willing to bet the old scientists aren't piloting them anymore. And I do not want this leaking to New Hyrule. Our country has no more rockets, but it has a Guardian here."

"They ... they won't kill us," a Hylian laughed.

"Yeah, we aren't traitors we ... you are suggesting we defect right?"

"I am suggesting we can fight a single Guardian better than we can all of New Dragon Roost," she muttered, "and honestly, I would rather be in cahoots with Bird People than following orders of those beasts. The new parliament Hilda is appointing, they are a new breed of hate. Most are openly Children of Hylia, unqualified, untrained monsters who would dismantle the roles they were assigned to.

"Yeah but we can't just rebel," a Hylian laughed. He was Spensal, an archivist who lauded himself as progressive, "like, we can't just throw up our own leadership and break New Hylian law. Then we are no better than Hilda."

"I don't think any of us are planning to wipe out minorities," Captain Marlon said coldly, "something that many of her new leadership openly suggests. One of her inner circle runs a Children of Hylia radio station that openly suggests that "New Hyrule doesn't need a Sheikah race," and questioning if "Zora and Rito are people." Unless we are planning to wipe out entire races, we are not as bad as the new regime."

"But then it's just semantics—"

"D-Dammit it how how naive are you?" Mīfa shouted with a slight quiver, "you cannot act like this is normal and we should just respect the Queen. If you allow these bigots to preach their hate unchallenged, they will just squeeze in. You can't treat them like they just have a different opinion! They want us dead!" Linkle leaned into her with relief. She would have shouted if she could have.

"We are gonna have a vote," Marlon said softly, "do we declare neutrality or not?"

"...We can't just secede."

"—Bad as them."

"—have to work inside the system."

"Maybe she will be reasonable—"

"—don't want to act violent like Mīfa and Gorogroose's display."

Linkle felt her skin burn, and she clutched Mīfa tight. She ... her hands won't move, they just flailed, she couldn't talk, couldn't shout them down. She ... she was non verbal but usually she could still ... still.

The Hylian members of the crew were going to doom Lunark. They ... they were just going to fold to the new monstrous leadership, they...

Linkle decided then and there she would only answer to being Sheikah. She didn't want to be Hylian, and it's not like being biracial ever helped her in life. And her Hylian heritage, it was cowardice and fear, not bravery.

She glanced towards Captain Marlon, who was standing stern, firm, but her foundation was quaking. Her hands fidgeted but she was not autistic like Linkle and Medli. She was nervous, and regret was on her face. Good...

...Linkle stepped out of the airlock, and the only sound was the hum of static. She stared up at the night sky, distant stars gleaming in speckled light.

"Hey," she nodded at Mīfa's voice, as the Zora bounced up to her. The Zora youth fell against Linkle, clutching her like a Keese clutching its perch. The two of them just held each other and breathed, trying to steady themselves.

Lunark would not take a stand.

Linkle turned to the edge of the base, and offered Mīfa her hand. The Zora girl took it, and Linkle fired the beetle from her bracelet. It latched scores of yards away, before hurling the two of them forward.

They stumbled on the landing, now a ways away from their fellow colonists. Linkle rolled over, laying crumpled up on the lunar surface.

Linkle didn't know where Medli was, Marlon had said she had needed to use her personal Spirit Radio, and she had needed to do it away from the colony, Linkle knew what she was doing, on important matters (as definitely by the Constitution of the RotGS) the Rito and their fellows, every citizen would debate and vote on a course of action. Hopefully their vote would go better.

She didn't know RotGS politics very well, there was trade between the two nations but even under Zelda it had been tightly regulated. She knew that there five races native to the Great Sea, including a race related to Hylians. She knew the Korok mostly were farmers and kept to themselves, but that might be a stereotype. She knew the Fishmen also kept to themselves, and politics were mostly decided by Rito, humans, and Bokoblins. She also knew the Rito were the most common race of the Great Sea.

But she didn't know the politics. And she didn't know the technology of the Great Sea. She knew they had had a city on the moon for decades, and outposts long before that. But what were their weapons like. Could ... could they survive New Hyrule?

She had been working with Medli to understand the Rito technology, they had disassembled and reassembled the Weldos multiple times, gone over the Chu Chu Batteries again and again, Linkle had some grasp of it now. And the entire setup, the way it operated - it was complex. They used living jelly batteries to power their tech and her implants, and had some sort of transmitters to send power. Linkle had been trying to replicate it with some extra supplies, but that ... that was unimportant now.

Linkle had realized she did not want her country to win the war. Eight days and all this already? The government felt destabilized even from the Moon, and all this abuse, this hate, she couldn't support it. And a war felt certain, she could hear cannons firing even from the moon.

She reached over, and Mīfa did the same. They held hands, as Mīfa and Linkle looked at the stars from their huddled shapes.

Zelda had ... she had done bad things. There were rumors she had used Guardians to rampage through Bulbin camps looking for terrorists. But she had ... she had held some restraint. Hilda had none, no self control.

Guardians invented by Zelda's scientists were now patrolling the streets of cities, radio stations were being threatened not to speak out, and Hylians kept towing the line. Marlon was their eyes to the outside world, and everything she knew was filtered through whatever people back in New Hyrule told her.

Marlon had ordered half the colonists to abandon their work on research to focus on finishing the farms. She made it clear that they should not expect supplies to be sent up, and they needed to be self sufficient before the food they brought dried up. So the research of the two Bracelets was put on hold so Linkle could focus on helping prepare for the Cucco to hatch and to make repairs. Simple.

Linkle shivered. She ... she felt like a coward, like she was hiding on the moon from her problems.

"I love you," Mīfa whispered.

Linkle squeezed her hand back tight, and the two of them clung to each other.

They laid there silent, holding each other's hands in a loose embrace. Every so often Mīfa would make a tight squeeze, then Linkle squeezed back. Their grips pulsed like twinkling stairs, periodically sending waves of sensation through their palms.

They squeezed and relaxed, along shouting to each other that they were still there, still holding the other' hands. The only sound was the humming of their Spirit Radio, frequncies crackling in their heads.

The sky above the moon was black as a Sheikah monk, broken up by eyes of light. The stars seemed to peer down at the two colonists, warmly like ... like ... like a zoologist seeing an endangered wild breed of Cucco flourishing.

"Heh. Heh heh heh."

"What's so funny?" Mīfa turned to look at Linkle, who was laughing. Linkle smiled through her laughs, her hands flapping wildly.

"Come ... come on, why ha, why are you laughing now?" Mīfa began to chuckle softly, her sides beginning to quake. The two just laughed and laughed, before rolling onto each other.

"Cucco. Cucco. Cucco Cucco Cucco," Linkle signed frantically, "I'm gonna call you my Sea Cucco," she snorted as she flapped her arms, still laughing at the random tangent.

"Sea Cucco? I ... I'm not a water fowl," Mīfa tried to act indignant, still laughing at Linkle's explosion.

"S-sorry Royal Sea Cucco," Linkle signed.

"And don't you forget it," Mīfa giggled, as tumbled before she and Linkle flopped back against the lunar surface, both staring back up in the sky. They laughed and laughed, burning their energy off.

"...sorry," Linkle signed, "not appropriate is it?"

"No. But I ... I needed a laugh," Mīfa signed back.

"...We are going to be alone up here," Mīfa signed. She was not speaking over the radio, just gesturing, her motions were not the most articulate.

"Alone together."

"...Gorogroose has our back, I know the other Zora agree with us, they talked to me about it after the vote, they were just intimidated by the ... Hylian comments. And the Sheikah, you saw how they voted, only one was against neutrality."

Linkle nodded, and signed, "Captain Marlon agrees with us too I think. But she is a bit too reliant of regulations."

"...What are we going to do?"

"Find Medli, ask her what she knows so we can plan," Linkle decided.

"She might be busy voting still, the whole population of the Great Sea had a chance to advocate and suggest courses of actions, it could take a while. But Gorogroose ... when we meet her he watched over us, and hung around when she was nearby. I think he was trying to stop her from doing something. We should ask him first."

Linkle gave her a look and she shook her head, "I think Medli does not intend you harm, but I think .Gorogroose knows something. At the least if he tells us, Medli will not have to."

Linkle thought it over, and then squeezed Mīfa's hand. It was worth checking out at least...

...Linkle and Mīfa walked back into their ship, and immediately they were bombarded with a sickly sound, like a dog dry heaving. There ... there were no dogs on the moon, or Wolfos for that matter. Though what would they howl to up here?

It was hard to focus, with the scratchy vibe Linkle felt. A think miasma seemed to oozed through the ear, like swimming in syrup. It was really hard to stay focused. Linkle felt a buzz in her heart - she needed to do something.

She ... she had fallen into a thick muddy swamp of depression and anxiety, and there was no easy way out of it. But she ... she had just had a good release, expelled her frustration, her fear, her worry - and she had Mīfa.

She would fight. She would ... she would find ways to fight. She ... she would ... she could reach out to Medli at least, that was the first step. She would be connected to the Republic of the Great Sea, she would have news from the World Below, at the least she who know more than the rest of them did about the Surface.

It was so strange, now that she thought of it, that a society like the Republic who focused so much on getting voices to all her citizens, keeping so much of her knowledge and information network separate from New Hyrule.

Point was, Medli was a link to the Surface. Linkle thought she was good, she seemed caring and nice, she trusted her to be honest with her news. And Medli seemed to care about Linkle. She would tell them what she could. And Linkle and Mīfa would pass their discoveries onto the rest of the colony, at the least they could do was keep each other informed.

That was the first step, knowledge. And Mīfa did not think Marlon's radio could be trusted long term, eventually, she would stop getting real news. And already their Slates had gotten a lot worse connection to the Sea of Satellites.

She and Mīfa held hands as they walked up to the Gorogroose. He was sleeping, sitting cross-legged and breathing slowly. He had fallen asleep among the main steam engines of Lunark, snoring among the hum of machinery. Steam vented around him, misting up his armored rocky body.

"Um, Gorogroose?" Mīfa asked, walking up to him, wincing. Linkle held her hand, which Mīfa clutched tight. The heat was a lot more than she was used to as a Zora.

"Hello wee ones," he sighed.

"...we want to do something," Mīfa said softly, "we want to reach out to Medli. As a Rito she has access to the World Below, and when Hilda cuts us off from the radio—"

"And ya need ta know if ya can trust her?"

"We think we can, but we aren't sure exactly everything about her, how she knew Linkle was sent to find Bracelets, that she brought them - or where the order Linkle's guild gave her came from." Linkle nodded aggressively, smiling. It was partly forced, but Mīfa was a glow that cheered her up, at the least she made Linkle fell not alone. And her voice had weight.

"I think the Captain wanted you to make sure she didn't say something around Linkle, like she didn't trust her not to speak her mind. And I ... I am not sure of Medli's motivation. I think she is good, but she is clearly hiding things, she has secret motives. I want to make sure I know what we would be getting caught up in working with her.

"Yeah, I know a bit of the wee birdie's interests," Gorogroose gestured for the two younger colonists to sit, "the Captain told me a bit of it, Medli admitted to it fully. Not sure I should be telling ya what she thinks, not my place, not my expertise."

"Is it worse than everything that's been happening?"

"Fair enough lass," Gorogroose rubbed the back of his head, "ya must understand, the Rito can be a bit strange, way they see the world and all."

"Medli be older than she looks. She no youth, she old," Gorogroose said in a low voice, "older than me and any of us colonists. She seen lot younger dan she is. And her body, I got a good look at her, it is not merely implants that are part of her body. So much of her is mechanical, the traces on her skin..."

"...What does that mean?"

"She knows a lot lass. And she thinks she has seen something of Linkle before."

Mīfa looked to Linkle, who shook her head. She had never seen Medli until she reached the moon. "Linkle had never seen her until the Steam Arrow landed here."

"Yeah, I know. Tell me, ya ever believe in the reincarnation of the Hero."

Linkle felt her heart flutter, and signed, "I ... I know the story. The Hero of Winds; the champion who killed the monstrous demigod Ganondorf, the same Hero who discovered the steamboat that kicked off the Era of Steam and who colonized New Hyrule. The friend of the Sage Maud ... Lee. Medli."

Gorogroose did not speak, only nodding, as Linkle continued, "he was reincarnated a hundred years after he discovered the steamboat, into the Hero of Steam; the Royal Engineer who saved the Princess Zelda of that era and killed the Demon King. And that was two hundred and seventeen years later."

"Do you think I am some sort of 'capital-h' Heroine?" Linkle asked, "a ... a reincarnation of Greensky, the Heroine who impressed the Rito—"

"I know nothing of prophecies and reincarnation," Gorogroose shook his large rocky head, "Ah got no opinion on it, save that it be an awful lot of pressure to be the next life of a champion of da world. I just know Medli believes ya are a reincarnation of someone I think she knew once, long time ago."

"Why did Marlon not want her to tell Linkle that?" Mīfa asked as Linkle flapped her hands like a fledgeling bird, excitement flowing through her. She ... she had potential, a destiny to fulfill. It was ... there was hope.

"Like I said, it a lot of pressure. Guessing she read wee Linkle wrong."

Linkle quickly turned to Mīfa, who squeezed her shoulder. As she clutched Mīfa, the Zora asked the Goron, "What does Medli expect Linkle to do?"

"Um well," he glanced at Linkle's ever growing smile. Then he grinned warily, and laid his hand on her head and rustled her hair.

"I think da birdie expects ya to save us."

Linkle's hand danced across her compass's chain, her very fingers tingling with goosebumps. She shivered as she smiled, one hand on her love thing, the other clinging to Mīfa. She ... she could do things. She could save New Hyrule...

Chapter Six

...Linkle flapped her hands inside her thick thermal clothes, as she and Mīfa walked through the lunar surface. Her face was covered by her Dragon Scale, letting her lungs breath even in the barren wastes of the moon.

Mīfa signed suddenly, "Linkle do ... I've been thinking about what the Captain said? Do ... do you think I'm ... visible?"

"...Yes I can see you."

"No I mean do you think me being gay was ... obvious?"

"Oh no I was scared you won't like me like that. I mean I am not very good at reading people and I thought you might be interested, but I wasn't sure if I was just projecting. Why?"

"If ... if my family knew but ... if they knew I was gay, and they suspected New Hyrule was going to descend into this ... evil, if they knew that I would be at risk would ... would that be why they sent me up here, far away from politics."

"Isn't that good that they care?"

"Well yes but ... if they knew, if I was so easy to see, did everyone know? Were the Children of Hylia in particular watching me, plotting to kill me?"

Linkle offered her hand, and Mīfa squeezed it tight. "They won't hurt you, and won't let them," the Heroine promised.

There was silence, and then Mīfa pointed. In the distance sat a structure made of rock, a tiny grey thing that looked like it had been stabbed out of the surface.

They headed towards it in great leaps and launches of the Beetle Bracelet, and gradually Linkle recognized it as a hut summoned from the lunar stone. Closer they came until they spotted Medli, sitting along in the hut, her hands clutching her knees, her fingers rubbing against her kneecaps over and over.

"Hello?" Linkle sighed as Medli looked up. Medli smiled and stood up, before sweeping her wing in greeting.

"Come in," she offered, and the two followed her inside.

It was very empty, just a Spirit Radio and a collection of metal parts and goop. Some sculptures also filled the space, include a rock bed and a stone handheld harp. Medli tapped her foot done, and immediate the floor shifted to form rock mats.

Mīfa took the lead, signing, "we know you recognize Linkle."

"I am sorry."

"Why?"

"It felt selfish, and I felt like a stalker running right up to you right as you arrived. I have no excuse."

"...Have you been lonely?" Linkle asked, offering a smile.

"...That doesn't matter, it was still rude and I am sorry."

"Did you know Valoo?"

"I was his Attendant," she signed, smiling with her eyes drifting in memories, her head glazing over a little.

"Is ... is he truly dead?"

"...Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

Medli sat cross-legged across from the two of them, and rubbed her forehead, "I still feel him. I know in my heart my God still lives, still watching over my people. And I ... I have a connection to the divine."

"Can you hear him? Has he told you anything?"

"Fifty years ago I dreamt of him and my predecessor Laruto," Medli signed, "they urged me to go to New Dragon Roost, to protect the Moon City. So I came to do my duty."

"Do you see the prior Attendant much?" Linkle asked.

"Well um, no. Well, kinda. She was not the Attendant before me, she was the prior Sage of Earth, a Zora from before my people evolved. She became a ghost, and has mostly faded from the world, but I can still see her sometimes."

"Are you a ghost?"

"Yes. I possess this body through a special one-way Spirit Stone."

"Will you fade?"

"No," she laughed, "I will not die. I am too busy anyway."

"What do you do now?"

"Well right now I am trying to keep my distance so you don't get in trouble. But I am still making rounds to strengthen your home's foundation, and going to help unearth the dirty ice below the moon's surface."

"But what did you do in New Dragon Roost?"

"Oh, well my power comes from music, dance. So I would entertain the Rito, Fishmen, humans, and Bokoblins of the colony."

"I thought the Korok loved music?"

"They do, but most of them are not comfortable being so far from the Great Sea in a metal Lobster or being launched from a Space Cannon. So until we can find a way to warp Korok here to the domes, most of them decline to come."

"So," she gestured to the harp, "I play music and dance, and sometimes use a bit of my powers to make clouds of dust dance like an illusion."

"Do the Rito know you are the Sage of Earth?"

"I think most in New Dragon Roost suspect, especially since no new Sage has been chosen, and many of my songs are ancient prayers."

"Prayers?"

"The Sage of Earth and the Sage of Wind are destined to empower the Master Sword; the divine sword the Hero of Winds used to kill Ganondorf. When I pray, I am strengthening the Master Sword."

"But, the Master Sword was lost," Mīfa signed frantically, "do ... so you know where it is? Is it on the moon?"

"The Master Sword was left sealed inside Ganondorf's skull, permanently wedged into his head and turning him into lifeless stone," Medli said softly, "the Rito used to make a pilgrimage there, though it was since lost."

"But if it's sheathed in rock, why keep empowering it?" Linkle offered.

"...I fear Ganondorf may still live inside his petrified form. From what I have seen in visions he is an incarnation of a forgotten God, older than Old Hyrule and the equal to Hylia. He has escaped his seal before too, the Hero of Winds was not the first Hero, just as the Hero reincarnated so does Ganondorf. I worry if I do not regularly empower the Master Sword, or if it is removed or even rusted till it snaps, his spirit will be unleashed."

"Could it have happened already?"

"...My people know other Timelines, other versions of the World Below. In some, Ganondorf possesses the Queen of Hyrule."

"Hilda?"

"It might give her too much credit. But it is possible. And my people fear it too."

"What will they do if war is declared?"

"Reduce New Hyrule to the Stone Age," Medli closed her eyes, her hand quaking. Linkle grasped it, and she squeezed him tight. In that moment he could swear he saw her synethic eyes wrinkle and age.

"Could ... could your people do that?" Mīfa asked frantically.

"The Great Sea is home to many sea monsters, some almost common. To ... to lower their numbers to not overwhelm the oceans we ... we developed a weapon, the EM Bomb. It uses a carefully harvested Chu Chu battery to send a shockwave of electricity and magnetism for fifty feet. I-i-i-it fries everything alive, cooks them. And everything mechanical becomes deformed."

"...Fifty feet?" Mīfa leaned into Linkle.

"They are monstrous. In our vote, some of us suggested to engineer bigger more destructive ones, ones th-th-that could level whole New Hyrulean cities."

"Who? Bokoblins?"

"What does it matter? It passed, and a motion doesn't pass without Rito support," she dug into Linkle's hand, trying to draw strength from her squeezing.

"They ... they would use these EM Bombs on people?"

"Yes." Linkle realized that if Medli's body could cry, she would be sobbing right now.

"Lunark too?"

"No I ... some of us managed to convince the RotGS that attacking Lunark would be monstrous, it was a scientist expedition, it was mostly civilians, it was helpless against normal bombs, kept alone EM Bombs. And thankfully, New Dragon Roost and our faction of the Sea of Satellites ruled we would not support any attack on your colony or your satellites."

"They can do that?"

"We are not in the Great Sea, we are not completely bound by its laws. We have some self governance, and the bulk of us voted that we would not harm you. I ... It is not enough. The Sea would still have to bomb New Hyrule."

"How will they use the Em Bombs, I know you can be specific with usage."

"If New Hyrule launches a state sponsored attack, whether or not it is an official declaration of war, then the Republic has decried it will drop EM Bombs. They ... we still only have the kind for facing Big Octos, but for the past hour or so my people have been designing newer versions, and I fear they may have some being built."

"Already?"

"My people are very quick. And I fear some designs were already dreamed up long ago, perhaps from when the Demon King briefly usurped the Zelda of that era."

"You were going to invade?"

"It has always been hard for me to tell what our goals were then. But I fear yes."

"You need to come with us back in Lunark right now," Linkle pulled Medli to her feet, "Marlon and the others need to know this right now!"

"You sure—" Mīfa began as Linkle pulled her upright too.

"Yes, they have to know what they are facing. Captain Marlon does not know."

"It won't be the best encouragement to secede."

"New Dragon Roost isn't really a part of the Republic of the Great Sea, neutrality and allying with them isn't seceding to the RotGS."

"It's a bit of a technicality—"

"Come on!" Linkle wrapped her arm around Mīfa, and launching into the air, soaring across the lunar surface. As they soared she glanced back, Medli had shot herself out of a rock catapult, and now was gliding above them.

Linkle couldn't explain it, but she knew she had to get back to Lunark right now. Because she just felt in her heart that if she did, everything would turn out okay. And the quicker she got there, the better things would be. She knew it.

Chapter Seven

The first thing Linkle spotted was the sweeping beam, reflected off into the moon's sky. It soared at an angle into the air, before dissipating from the sheer distance. Linkle froze as she saw the energetic beam, her blood running cold. It was ... it was the light of a Guardian's beam.

Linkle suddenly felt Mīfa squeezing her hand and shaking her shoulder. Linkle gasped wordlessly, Medli had flown ahead, gliding with all speed. The Heroine swallowed, and fired her beetle, latching onto Medli's leg. With a burst of magnetism Linkle and her girlfriend weee hurled after Medli, tumbling after her as she flew.

Finally the pair caught up, latching to Medli's leg. Linkle released, and from this high angle she fired, latching onto a roof of Lunark. Then with in a rush she and Mīfa were flung forward, tumbling into the expanse of Lunark.

As Linkle pulled herself up she saw a chunk of tan rock. She fell backwards, clutching at her mouth, trying not to gag. It was ... it was a patch of Goron hide.

Mīfa pulled on her, and Linkle stumbled upright. The Heroine shook her head and ran, racing towards were the beam emanated from. As they drew closer the beam sputtered and shook, sweeping about unevenly.

As they ran up Medli was dancing, drawing earth and rock from the lunar surface. The stone rose up like spikes, piercing into the gut of the Guardian. The Octorock like beast staggered on its many tentacles, aiming its beam at her. But she only danced, blocking the beam with a wall of rock. A rock cage surrounded the remotely controlled machine, cutting off its attacks from landing.

"Linkle, Mīfa," Medli signed in a brief pause, "you need to hurry. All your drones have turned on the camp, and are trying to kill your people, or at least the non Hylian ones. I can keep the Guardian busy, but Gorogroose was wounded reflecting the drone's attacks. I got here as he fell."

"What ... what can I do?"

"Find the Weldos I brought you, you should know how to program it. Have it target the drones, its laser is hot enough to weld metal, it could melt the drones still. As it does that protect your people. Mīfa, can you watch over Gorogroose?" She gestured beside her, were Gorogroose lay slumped over, his body ruptured by the beam of the Guardian. Mīfa nodded, and raced over to the Goron.

"Linkle, I trust you," Medli urged, summoning a spike through the Guardian's base. Linkle nodded, and ran towards the drone worship. That was where Linkle had left the Weldos, and no one really touched it but her.

As she ran a drone scuttled around her, chasing after her on its assortment of tentacles. It leapt from roof to roof, gaining on her. Linkle swallowed, and summoned her shield from her left bracelet.

As the drone leapt she twirled on her heel, letting the machine slam against her magnetic shield. it impacted the small collapsible shield, before being hurled off and smashed into a capsule. Linkle resumed running, as the drone collapsed.

Linkle dove into the airlock, stomping her feet as air hissed around her. Her hands jittered, before she began to run through the maze of tubes, she was close to the...

She stopped, spying a good seventeen Hylians all hiding in the workshop - Gorogroose and her workshop! She shook in rage, marching up to them, specifically to Spensal

"Ah Linkle I was wondering—" she punched him in the genitals, forcing him to slump over."

"Hey, we don't need more violence—"

"More!" She verbally shouted, making all of them flinch. Her hands shook, and she began to sign.

"People are dying out there, people - your colleagues and your fellow colonists are being slaughtered - and you are hiding in the shadows just letting them try to survive?" Her hands were a blur, signing.

"They ... they shouldn't have voted—"

"So they deserve to die?" She signed in a flurry of movement, "I saw a chunk of Gorogroose's skin fried off his body like a chipped geode. He was mutilated!"

"We ... we can't just rebel, if ... they will—"

"Turn on you?" Linkle signed slow and deliberate, "you know, Hylians love to talk about how progressive they are. 'Oh if I had been there in the time of the Hero of Steam, I would have helped him infiltrate the castle. I would have protested the enslavement of Bulblins. I would have hid my neighbors from Ganondorf. I would have been a good ally.' Will the time to be a good is now, and you all hide!"

"..."

"You would have allied with Ganondorf," Linkle signed, "you would have sided with him to save your own necks, no matter how many people had died. You think you are progressive allies, when push comes to shove you would only be collaborators."

She swerved on her heel, plucking up the Weldos. She pulled out her Sheikah Warparty knife, and began to screw and adjust it, tweaking it silently in the darkness.

Finally she released the canister, and it transformed, wings expanding from it, growing a vaguely avian head. It flew off, leaving Linkle and the collaborators alone.

"What is that gonna—"

Linkle walked away, building up speed to run through the passages of Lunark. She knew where she needed to head now.

She burst by the pool, the waters red. A Zora - Gluggle - stood in the water, her hands shaking and her body cut up. In her hands was a spyglass, dented and bent. In front of her was two drones, their bodies snapping.

Linkle immediately fired her beetle, smacking it between the drones. As the magnetize pulled her forward she swung her shield, crushing one of the drones under her defensive tool. She immediately turned and thrust her shield, knocking the machine across the water.

"Th-th-thank you Linkle," Gluggle cried, dropping her spyglass club, "I ... I thought that was it. Is ... is Mīfa okay?"

Linkle nodded and signed, "Medli is with her, and Medli is taking on the Guardian, she has access to divine magic. She can keep her safe."

" Are ... are you sure?"

"I love Mīfa, I would not leave her there if I thought she was unsafe. Are the eggs safe?"

"A cluster of them were ripped apart. One of two of those might live but they would be deformed. The other two clusters survived I ... I got there in time. But Puffafis..." she trailed off, and Linkle dove in the water besides her.

Linkle laid her hand against Gluggle's hand, squeezing her webbed fingers. The Zora squeezed back, her eyes welling.

Finally Linkle released, "I programmed the Weldos to fry the drones. It can fly and fire long range, it should be able to destroy the weaker drones, Medli believes so."

"But there are so many."

"I know," Linkle swallowed, then offered a soft smile, "but I ... I think we can win. I ... I have to believe it. Medli is powerful, I trust her."

Gluggle nodded, and dove underwater. She soon dragged up her spyglass, her hands quaking but ready to protect her race's future.

"...the Sheikah, do you know where they are?"

"They ... I think two of them were killed immediately with Puffafis. Captain Marlon rallied four of the Hylians and the other Sheikah to try to destroy the drones, while Gorogroose helped them escape the Guardian. I ... I feel like a coward—"

"You saved your people's future, that is not cowardice," Linkle promised, "can you handle being alone for a moment? I am going to try to find the twelve of them and lead them here."

"You ... you swear you will come back?"

"If I die I swear on the Golden Goddesses and Hylia that my ghost will guard you, Mīfa, and the eggs," Linkle pledged, crouching onto her knee.

Gluggle's eyes welled and she whispered, "hurry back." Linkle nodded, and began to run to an airlock.

As she dove out she hooked the roof with her beetle, hurling herself into the air. As she rose above the moon's surface, she spied them. Eight Sheikah and Hylians, fighting with an assortment of wrenches and hammers. Linkle hook the ground in front of them, and launched herself at them.

With a slam she hit the ground, smashing a drone with her shield. Immediately she fired her beetle, smashing it through the torso of a drone. It tugged her behind it, before she bashed another drone into shards.

"Linkle," a Sheikah said. Her name was Impa, she was built like a train, her legs like pumping pistons, "you made it back? Are you the one who sent the Weldos?"

She pointed in the sky, where the Weldos was firing a constant beam into a group of drones, shredding them in great sweeps.

Linkle nodded, "are ... are you—"

"We are the only ones standing besides those ------- cowards," Impa spat over the radio, "glad to know you are there for us Linkle, you have saved our lives."

Linkle smiled, then shook her head. Focus. "Gluggle needs your help. She's protecting her people's eggs but—"

"Blast it, how could I think she was hiding?" Impa cursed, "of course she was protecting the future— we are one our way."

"If you can spare someone, Gorogroose is down but I think he is alive. Mīfa is Guardian him. If you could help us haul him inside—"

"He lives? How I—" Impa clutched Linkle's wrists, "he ... how?"

"Medli arrived, she is using her magic to destroy the Guardian."

"Marlon told me as she fell," Impa said, "she's a Sage huh?"

Linkle nodded and Impa smiled, "glad to have you here, Heroine of the Moon. You have saved us all."

The Heroine blushed, her eyes wide, before Impa pointed to a Sheikah with a large monk tattoo under his space suit. "Oman, follow Linkle to Gorogroose. We are not leaving one of our to die. The rest of us are after Gluggle."

"Of course," he bowed, before Linkle led him across the rocky terrain. As they reach a capsule Linkle grabbed the monk's hand, and fired her beetle onto the top. The two of them launched into the air, before drifting down besides Mīfa.

"Linkle, I heard Impa over the radio," she said, embracing her, "the eggs are safe?" Linkle nodded firmly, while the monk crouched down over Gorogroose. He tore off bits of his own suit, using them to bandage the massive Goron.

"Help Medli," urged Mīfa, "the Guardian is mostly destroyed but..."

She trailed off, and Linkle looked after her eyes. In the sky was a massive mechanical ship, with two large pincers on its front. Linkle recognized it as a Lobster, one of the ships the Rito used to carry goods and supplies.

The Lobster's cargo hold opened, before twelve Rito swooped down, all dressed in heavily armored suits. The suits were orange, red, yellow, and with green wings, and looked like they were forged of metal. They slammed down, slicing the Guardians with their wings. The mechanical thing sliced up and broke from their cuts, as some of the Rito split off.

"Medli?" A Rito walked up, signing to the small Rito. She curtseyed low, as he kneeled.

"My name is Shetawk of the cargo ship Crustacean Wings. We crew spied the beams reflected into the sky. Are there still survivors?"

Linkle nodded and Medli added, "yes. Can you please help the Goron? I know you do not have medical supplies but—"

"I will help carry him aboard while my crew cleans up the rest of the job. Thank you Medli, you have done us proud."

"I barely did anything," she shook her head, pointing to Linkle, "this is the Heroine."

"Truly?" He walked to her, before crouching onto one knee, "thank you Heroine, you have saved many lives."

Linkle nodded as he continued, "New Dragon Roost has currently seceded from the RotGS in response to the EM Bombs being approved. We can help you as much as we can."

"Is the Great Sea upset?" Mīfa asked over the radio.

"They are a bit busy, New Hyrule has launched an attack, and they are moving to destroy their rivals," Shetawk tensed up, "I swear my crew will help you as much as we can."

Linkle nodded slowly and signed, "I am not in charge, I guess that would be Impa. But I ... we will need all the help we can get." As Shetawk nodded she saw a thump, as the Guardian collapsed dead.

Epilogue

"Still just static?" I asked. Linkle stood besides me, her hand squeezing Queen Mīfa. The pair of them had been busy try to keep New Skyloft afloat, we all had. Weldos were still sealing up torn open holes in the hulls of the base former called Lunark, and Rito and Bokoblins were still shipping ore.

The drones had been salvaged for parts, and two had been repaired, their Spirit Stones reconnected to some stones salvaged from their fellow machines remains.

Shetawk put down the long range Spirit Radio and nodded, "I just checked in with the rest of us again. Contact with New Dragon Roost is still easy enough, same with some of the outer satellites. But the bulk of the Sea, New Hyrule, every Lobster close below, and the Great Sea; there is nothing."

"It can't be just the EM Bombs can it?" I said softly.

The Captain rubbed his forehead, "the magnetic storm covering the planet is ... I don't know enough about the bombs none of us do. But ... to scale them so much — and the Great Sea is nowhere near New Hyrule, there is an ocean between."

"Do we ... do we know if any of them are alive?" Linkle signed.

"We do not know. The Satellites we still have contact with are sending us maps of the World Below, we can supply them with repairs and food indefinitely. From what we can see thick storm clouds have completely blanketed the World Below. We are completely cut off."

"A Dark World," whispered Mīfa.

"...I could projectile below," I whispered.

"I know," Shetawk said, "but not now. If your warning is true and an incarnation of Ganon is behind this Calamity, then we cannot risk you."

"I cannot die."

"But you can feel pain, whether it is grief or horror; we cannot ask of you to descend where our Lobsters would not. One day we will ask of you to descend, but it will be generations from now. And by then, our Lobsters may have enough defenses to reach the depths."

"...I could brave—"

Queen Mīfa shook her head, "we aren't ready. If ... if Ganon is awakened in this Dark World, we can't have him turning towards us. Not until we are ready."

"...I am sorry the Lesser Sea is saltwater," I offered my hand to Mīfa's shoulder. She accepted it, but she still smiled.

"My family was wise, sending eggs from so many families. There is still hope."

"They have grown so big," I grinned in turn. The tadpoles were still far smaller than a Zora, but they were beginning to grow their limbs, they were maturing, and Mīfa and Gluggle were good teachers. Linkle helped too, but she also have over work to do."

Linkle now wore a green hooded tunic when she was indoors, with a pair of red shorts underneath. Hair hair was short, save for a few braids that flowed besides her neck.

She also wore a pair of iron boots. After studying Rito tech for a few months, she had beautifully crafted these boots to release shockwaves of magnetism, letting her walk on any metal surface and to kick away meteorites.

Linkle saw my gaze and signed, "thank you for your teachings."

"Oh I just knew the basics, you made it your own," I shrugged, "and Impa is still okay with us sending teachers. I know some Hylians were wary."

"Screw those cowards," Linkle signed, "we need knowledge if we are to survive on the moon, not just supplies and repairs ... what are you calling your new nation?"

"I-it's mostly the old one," I swallowed, "There are some suggestions for names but nothing firm. I ... are you sure you don't think I should check?"

"Ganondorf would kill us easily. I know you fear for your people, especially the Korok, but please just wait."

I ... I feared so much had been lost. Maybe there would still be survivors below the storms, I prayed they were. But I ... I knew their lives would be hard, hard and filled with dangers, away from sun. A magnetic winter had descended over the world, and there was no way to rescue them.

"I worry 'the Dark World' as you call it will suffer a dark age, without stable sunlight and contact of the stars, and with all the destruction we know happened, I fear almost all knowledge will be lost," Shetawk whispered, "worse than after the Great Flood."

"Do you think they will remember the moon was colonized? That we still exist?"

"I would be surprised if they remembered the Golden Goddesses," Shetawk admitted.

I shuddered, and Linkle offered me her hand. I took it, and gave her a squeeze. "We are alive, there is still hope. Now the war is survival, enduring Nd resisting the cold. And I ... I know we can do it."

#legend of zelda #medli #linkle #femslash february #breath of the wild

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tv-will-kill-me · 7 years

Note

If someone had told him it would be three years since he'd spoken to her, he would have laughed. And then punched them. And then laughed some more.

But, somewhere along the way, her calls became more and more sporadic. And the texts, the ones that always managed to bring a smile to his face, whether he was in the Cubs clubhouse or sneaking out of some girl’s apartment, lessened with every day that went by.

Still, it wasn’t until Blip invited him to his house for the boys’ twelfth birthday party that Mike started doing the math. It had been 1,198 days since he’d seen that ridiculous smile of hers, 987 days since her last call, and he’d just felt pathetic as he scrolled through text after text searching for her name.

Hell, he’d gone far past pathetic as he scoured the internet for any and all mention of her. For those hours, he’d made a different choice, a better one. He’d decided to stay in the one city that felt like home with the team that had been his family for thirteen years. He was there for her kiss with that tech guy, was there to mock her dopey grin even as his heart thudded to the beat of I’m losing her, I’m losing her, I’m losing her. He was there for the day that Noah got down on knees that didn’t throb when it rained, and pulled out a ring that just screamed of his stupid billions. It was a wonder that damned rock didn’t mess with her game.

And he was standing right there when every tabloid and their senile mother were reporting on the breakup of the century between the queen of baseball and her tech nerd king. They had a surprising amount of detail, that Ginny had pitched her curveball to Noah when she handed back the ring, that she’d done it to focus on her game because a fiancee just didn’t pair well with a shot at the playoffs. But, they didn’t tell him what he really wanted to know. Like, who’d she had called in the middle of the night to talk through this decision. Or how she dealt with the loneliness now that she, like him, had no one.

And he was there for when the Padres, captained by one Blip Sanders, not only made it to the playoffs, but won it the year after he found victory with the cubs. So, Ginny had traded in one ring for another, and suddenly all the questions of her regrets screeched to a halt. And once his eyes burned and his computer battery died, he wondered how he could have missed it all. How he’d been relegated to the audience in Ginny’s life when for a time all he wanted was to have a supporting role.

“So,” he started, knocking his knuckles against the dashboard of Blip’s car as they drove away from the airport, “how’s Baker?”

“You don’t know?” Blip asked, peeking at him through the corner of his eye. “She said you guys still talk.”

Mike’s forehead crinkled as he frowned. “Yeah, yeah, um, it’s just been hard to touch base recently.”

“Whatever, man,” Blip turned into his driveway, cutting the engine and nodding to the backseat where Mike’s bags sat, “she’s already here, you can ask her yourself. Now, you gonna crash here tonight, or you want me to drop you off at your place later?”

“Either,” he huffed out a breath, throwing open the door and summoning up any of the waning courage he had left. “You ready to go in? I could eat.”

“Good,” he clapped his hand down on Mike’s shoulder, “Evie spent my last three paychecks on this dinner, so you damn well be ready to eat. I’m thinking you’re gonna have to eat your weight in stuffing or I’m gonna be shoveling down leftovers for the next year.”

“You got it.”

The noise slammed into them as they walked into the house, squeals and cries and the buzz of the television creating a cacophony of sound that Mike had come to associate with the Padres. He stepped forward, letting his jacket slip from his arms, and scanned the room.

“Lawson,” Salvamani exclaimed, tilting the neck of his beer bottle towards Mike. “Hey, guys, it’s the big, bad Cub.”

Dusty brushed past him, bumping his fist against Mike’s. “You gonna growl for us, Cub, or you need your mommy around for that?”

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, taking their ribbing in stride, “someone gonna get a beer for their former captain, or did you guys forget your manners once I left?”

“Here,” he stiffened, the voice behind him drawing across his skin, soft and lilting and bright. He spun around, time slowing as he took in as much of Ginny Baker as he could see. Fuck, there was a completely different woman standing in front of him, and yet, she hadn’t changed. Her eyes sparkled as she pushed the beer into his chest, her smile, so dazzling that he had to squint, transported him back to when she was his rookie and he her catcher. And the small part of her that had made him so sure that they would end up together still sparked as she shifted her weight to her left hip and quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“Baker,” he breathed, his fist clenching as her head cocked to the side.

“Mike,” she inched forward, hesitating for a quick moment before throwing her arms up and snaking them around his neck. “God, way to be a stranger.”

“Like you were any better,” he felt himself melting into the person he used to be when he was with her, light and easy and unbelievably happy.

“I called.”

“I texted.”

“You never answered,” she shot back.

“And you never replied.”

Her lips puckered into a frown. “I guess we both suck.” She reached forward, smoothing down his collar before stepping back. “But, find me later. Let’s catch up, or something. You can tell me all what Kris Bryant thought of your whole ass-slapping thing.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “I’ll be around.”

“Ginny,” Evelyn yelled from the kitchen, “get your annoyingly gorgeous face in here now. You’re on desserts.”

“Coming,” she called back, rolling her eyes before shooting Mike an apologetic smile. “Better get to the cake, god forbid the icing isn’t a work of art.” She bumped her shoulder against his before going over to the kitchen, her voice carrying into the living room as she and Evelyn began to argue.

“You fucked up.”

Mike shook off the haze that always seemed to overwhelm him when he was around ginny, glancing to the side and considering Tommy’s disapproving look with a frown of his own. “Want to repeat that, Miller?”

“Sure,” Tommy shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing to a squint, “you fucked up, Lawson.”

“Why, by leaving your sorry ass behind?”

Tommy’s jaw ticked. “She cried. For weeks after you left, she went back into the shitty closet they called a locker room and bawled. And then she got back on the mound and she got us the second best season we’ve seen in the past decade. And for a minute there, we thought that billionaire boy would actually be good for her, but all of a sudden, you’re back with Rachel and Ginny’s crying in the damned closet again. All while still getting us to the playoffs.”

“You can’t put that all on me.”

“Sorry boss,” Mike’s frown deepened into a glower as Dusty came to stand behind Tommy. “But we can. It sucked when you left, and it didn’t help that you went on and got your ring, but things were different for you and Baker before you up and disappeared.”

“And what?” Mike ambled forward, only stopping when there was only space left for the tension brewing between him and Tommy. “You decided to become Baker’s protection squad? I leave and suddenly you two are so close?”

“She’s my teammate, and I know what that means.” Tommy jerked his chin up. “I don’t just abandon the people who rely on me.”

“Why don’t you stop hiding behind Baker and say what you mean, hmm?” Before he could stop himself, Mike’s palms were pressed to Tommy’s chest and he was pushing him back. “Come on.”

A growl crawled up Tommy’s throat as he staggered into Dusty. “Watch it.”

“No, Miller, let’s have it out. You have a problem with me, you damn well be able to speak up.”

Blip came up to them, two drinks in hand and his smile dimming. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Why you even here, man?” Tommy asked, his voice growing louder as he shoved Mike back a step. “Why don’t you just go back to Chicago? It’s obviously where you want to be. Not with the guys who played with you for years.” Shove. “Or the team you couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye to.” Shove. “Or the girl you don’t deserve even though she’s so obviously in love with you!”

“Hey!” They all stopped, Mike’s muscles twitched with barely-constrained rage, with the desperate urge to take back the last ten minutes, with the self-loathing he thought he’d put to rest years ago. He turned to where Evelyn stood fuming, oven mitts clenched in her fists and her chest heaving as she tried to calm herself. “Dinner is ready, but if you men are determined to behave like the children we’ve gathered to celebrate, then I’m not sure I feel like feeding you.”

Mike’s gaze moved past Evelyn to Ginny, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt and her expression stricken.

“Ginny,” he whispered, watching as she slid the cake she was holding onto the counter, brushed her hair from her face and then whirled on her heels and walked away. “No, wait, Baker!” He knocked Tommy out of the way, jogging after her and wincing at Evelyn’s glower.

“Come on,” he heard Blip cry, “let’s eat!”

“Your friends are ruining our sons’ birthday!” If Evelyn didn’t stomp her designer pumped foot like Mike knew she would then maybe he really had lost touch with his pseudo family in San Diego.

“Baker,” he said softly, pushing open the door to the Sanders’ game room, “come on, I’m old, you’re not gonna make me go searching around, are you?”

“Now that’s just lazy,” she murmured, looking small and pitiful curled into herself on the couch. “At least you used to put in some effort for these geriatric jokes.”

“Low blood sugar,” he shrugged, shuffling forward and lowering himself on the cushion beside her. “I’d say let’s go eat, but Tommy’ll probably spend the entire time wishing I’d choke.”

“Truth?” She peeked up at him through her lashes. “He wouldn’t be the only one.”

“Baker…”

“I don’t see you for three years. You said nothing would change, that you’d be back in San Diego and that we would still be us, or whatever. But instead, you disappear, and to make things just so much better, you come back after all these years and humiliate me.”

“I tried,” he fell back beside her, their shoulders brushing. “We both did.”

“And yet,” she blew out, her cheeks puffing out as they stared up at the ceiling, still covered in the green glow of the stars they’d help put up eons ago. A smile curled on his lips as he remembered that day, Ginny’s laugh echoing in his ears and the image of her in overalls dancing through his mind. “I don’t need Tommy or Rusty or anyone else speaking for me. I can do this myself.” She pushed herself upright, squaring her shoulders and injecting as much steel into her voice as she could manage.

“Can’t this wait for some day where everyone doesn’t want me dead?”

“It hurt,” she started, ignoring him as he groaned, “when you left. We kissed and then you boarded a plane and that was it. And if you didn’t want us to become something more, then that’s fine. But I needed my friend when everything happened with Noah, and for all your talk of trying to make things work from different states, I called you and you never picked up. You had playoffs and then Rachel and I wasn’t enough. So don’t come here and try to act like nothing’s changed. You turned your back on the team a season before we won the playoffs.”

“I didn’t - “

She threw a hand up, stopping him before he could interrupt her and wetting her bottom lip. “And you turned your back on me.” She ran her hands through her hair. “And before you start, it’s not like you owed me anything because of one kiss, but, like, a heads-up about you and Rachel, or a call when my fucking engagement ended would’ve been nice.” She bolted up, pacing along the edge of the rug. “And you know what, maybe you did owe me that. Because before I even began thinking of saying yes to Noah, I called you first.”

“Rookie - “

“I’m not your Rookie anymore!” She cried, twisting long enough to scowl down at him. “And, another thing - “

Mike surged up, catching her by the shoulder and sending her tumbling into him. She stared up at him with wide eyes, a gasp ripping up her throat that only drowned away as he pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened and he screwed his eyes shut, cursing himself for every impulsive, ill-thought out decision he’d ever made. On the list of all his mistakes, as extensive as it was, this would definitely be at the top…or so he thought until, at least until her mouth moved underneath his and her arms wound around his waist.

“Wow,” she exhaled as he pulled back, his lips hovering just over hers and his grip on her tightening. “Okay, so, just really quick, don’t shut me up with kisses, not matter how good they are.”

“Duly noted,” he murmured, his gaze dipping back down to her mouth. “But, tell me there’s a but.”

“But,” her eyebrows knit together, “but,” she shook her head, pushing at his arms and stepping away, “but I can’t go through this with you again. You’re here for a week, maybe two tops, and then what? You head back to Chicago, I start blaming allergy season for all my shit again, and the guys stop looking at me like I’m their teammate and like I’m some sad little girl?”

“I’m moving back,” she blinked, doe-eyes warming with each passing second. “The last two seasons, they weren’t supposed to happen, and I’m done pushing my luck. I’m finished, and there’s no place I’d rather retire than here.”

“You’re coming back?” She asked disbelievingly, her face pinching with something between confusion and hope.

“I’m coming back and I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything. For leaving and not letting you know every second of everyday that I missed you. I’m sorry I wasn’t in the stands the day you won the playoffs, I’m just. I’m sorry. I’d spend the rest of my life apologizing if I could, but -”

“God, just stop and kiss me,” she pulled his mouth onto hers, the tension curled in her body unfurling as they kissed. And kissed. And kissed until his mouth was sore and her jaw ached and the desperation for him that she’d locked away the second he left flooding her veins.

“We still have to talk about things,” she said between kisses, his hands roving over her body, pulling her in as close as she could get then closer still. “This doesn’t fix things between us.” His mouth cut a scorching path over her neck. “And I may have promised to let Tommy punch you at least once.” He straightened, just long enough to shot her a strange look, before catching her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Yes, Ginny, anything,” he promised, her name dropping like a prayer from his lips. Resting her forehead against his, she brushed one last lingering kiss to his mouth. “And just so you know, me and Rachel, it wasn’t anything.”

She couldn’t help but snort, because after everything that had just happened, of course Mike Lawson would still feel compelled to bring up an explanation that really could have waited.

“Okay,” she nodded, “I guess I can give you a pass since I was literally about to marry another man.” The corner of his mouth ticked up into the grin she’d missed with an ache that only seemed to shut up now. “But Tommy still gets to punch you.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna talk about that later.”

“And Blip may or may not try and break your nose.”

“This all better be negotiable.” She reached down, intertwining their fingers, both warm and callused, and deciding that she liked the feeling, no matter how strange it might be.

“They’re a loyal bunch,” she said, letting him tug her out of the room. “Just, try and take it, you’re retired now, who cares if you get injured?”

“So glad I came back, Baker.”

She stopped them right before they got to the door that led to the backyard, the conversation shattering the calm that had settled around them. “Me too,” she grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek before the walked out of the house.

“All right,” Evelyn cried, standing up and waving at the rest of the guys, “who had half an hour?”

Salvamani jogged forward, sending a wink over at Mike and Ginny before slapping his hand against Evelyn’s and collecting the money their bastard friends had bet on their relationship.

“Yeah,” Mike grumbled, yanking Ginny into his side and rolling his eyes, “real, real glad I came back.”

#well fuck me this is long #pitch fics #pitch #ginny baker #Mike lawson #Basically the entire gang actually #Bawson #ginny x mike #Fay writes things

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itsworn · 5 years

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Alloy Motors Builds a Back-to-Basics 1968 Dodge Dart

Since it’s 1960 inception, the Dodge Dart gradually shrank over its generations, and by 1968 it had settled in its spot as Dodge’s inexpensive compact, replacing the Lancer in 1963. Small, lightweight, cheap, and with room for a V8, it was and still is the perfect candidate for hot rodding. So why mess with a good thing? Alloy Motors of Oakland, California, prefers to build just that kind of plain-spoken muscle machinery that hearkens to a simpler time, so the team there created a no-thrills, stroker-powered Mopar—a traditional build with modern parts.

After the Dart left Car Craft’s El Segundo, California, studio, Geoff trailered to the Roadkill Zip-Tie Drags in Tucson, Arizona. It was the car’s first shakedown, and despite having the owner’s permission, Geoff lifted early, resulting in a 13-second pass. “I let out in Third and said, ‘Yep, it’s fast, and that’s all I need to know,” Geoff said with a laugh.

The traditional muscle car has become lost in today’s sea of Pro Touring builds and LS swaps. Building a body-swap or all-modern drivetrain can rob the muscle car of its essence. An authentic muscle car evokes feelings of freedom, with a ball shifter in one hand and steering wheel in the other with your elbow hanging out of the window. The 245 air conditioning (two windows down, 45 mph) forces you to listen to the sweet rumble of eight cylinders. Alloy Motors built just that, a true Mopar-powered Dodge that screams freedom.

The BluePrint Engines 408 stroker was dressed up with Mopar Performance valve covers and accessory drive pulleys. A Spectre hat and K&N air cleaner grab air from the front of the engine compartment.

A few years ago, Geoff Gates, owner of Alloy Motors, picked a 1967 Dart to build to highlight his shop’s talent. “I wanted to take a risk on an underutilized platform and do it spectacularly to see if it got noticed, and it did,” Geoff said. “It’s smaller, lighter, more like a modern-car size, and I thought we can have a lot of fun with this and make it sexy.” Geoff’s Dart features a show-stopping paint job. “I wanted it black because I wanted to show off what I can do. It has a lot of straight lines, and you can’t hide a thing.”

Three years ago, Dean Wallace fell in love with that Dart, nicknamed “Dart Vader.” He wanted his own but without the shiny paint. “Basically, the same car but with more power and three pedals,” Geoff said. “More go, less show.” Dean and Geoff created a rendering and a plan, starting with a straight donor car Geoff found off the Reno, Nevada, Craigslist. It was a $3,500 clean roller with no engine or transmission, but boxes of parts. “It still had the factory insulation under the carpet,” Geoff said. It was essential to find a suitable car with little rust and a straight body; this cut down on expensive bodywork and extended downtime. “It saves a lot when you don’t have to install quarter-panels and floorboards.”

Alloy jumped in with minor bodywork and prepped the car for paint. “It was a quickie,” Geoff said. The team fixed a few dents and hit it with 120-grit sandpaper. It was primed, blocked, and shot. “To my standards, it’s a cheap paint job, but many people like it. We were able to do a lot with a little because it started as a such a straight car.” Alloy Motors developed a color using single-stage Vintage Flatz Hot Rod paint. It included a gallon of black, a little white, and a little blue.

The satin-blue paint is a custom mix of single-stage Vintage Flatz Hot Rod paint.

The paint was a flip on the standard gloss/satin combination with a satin body and the bumpers, trim, and wheels various shades of gloss black. The most significant difference between the two Darts is the quality of paint. “Dean wants to beat on the thing,” Geoff said. “Not sit and stare at it, waxing it every Sunday.”

The satin-black vinyl graphics on Dean’s Dart were custom designs inspired by other Mopars of the era. “I looked at others, and just thought I’d do my own thing,” said Geoff, who cut all the vinyl by hand. The “Dart” font is that of a 2013 Dodge Dart.

“Looking at other Mopars of a similar era, we thought we’d do our own thing,” said Alloy Motors’ Geoff Gates, who designed the custom graphics. The “Dart” font is that of a 2013 Dodge Dart.

Geoff grew up in his dad’s body shop in Detroit, where he painted his first car at age 12. He attended art school, worked as an art director at an ad agency, and opened his own agency. He moved to the Bay Area 19 years ago and quickly grew tired of the corporate life.

For Geoff, cars began as a hobby, “But it became more and more satisfying. My friends noticed it was always making me happy, and I was good at it,” said Geoff, who opened Alloy Motors six years ago. “I enjoyed the immediate gratification. The accomplishments are on an hourly and daily basis, unlike advertising, where your payoffs were only quarterly.”

It also evokes pride. “I could say, ‘I made that with my hands,’ or ‘I messed it up, and I’m going to redo it and make it great,’” he said. “This is more about passion than money.”

Initially, the Dart was a moderately priced version of the dressier fullsized Dodges. It was quickly downsized two years later and wedged into the entry-level car market, but it was still too elaborate and awkward to classify as a muscle machine. That changed with the fourth-generation 1967 Dart, which featured a more appealing boxy design. In 1968, Dodge introduced the Hemi Dart, slamming a 426 Hemi under the hood. The hot-rodding public took notice—kind of.

Today, true Mopar enthusiasts have mixed feelings about the Dart’s place. “I think they’re underappreciated,” Geoff said. The A-Body platform is nimble, inexpensive, and simple, and Geoff kept it that way. “It was an economy car, built almost like modern cars today. However, if you look at it, it’s a smaller and lighter B-Body. You put a lot of horsepower into it, and you have the same damn thing. Why should the winged cars and Superbees get all the love?”

Alloy Motors built Dean’s Dart in a traditional mindset, but with a few modern conveniences. The 360ci V8 was an option in the 1970s, but this one is stroked to 408 ci. The 1968 model year ushered in Chrysler’s Clean Air Package emission-control system, the company’s answer to new federal mandates. While this stroker isn’t a Hemi, it did replace the sluggish single-barrel carb and emissions controls with a tunable FAST EFI system. It bolts on like a carburetor, keeping the EFI electronics, sensors, and wiring minimal.

The result was a muscle car to pair with Geoff’s previous build. “I don’t think I’m a traditional builder; both of those cars are built with constraint,” he said. “There are not a lot of expensive parts on either car.” Initially, it was to be one of Dean’s first Mopars, but while waiting, he picked up a 1966 Dart drag car that he’s sending to Alloy Motors for a freshening up.

Following our photo shoot, the Dart was christened at the Roadkill Zip-Tie Drags in Tucson, Arizona. Geoff said the Dart hooks up exceptionally well and, with some fine-tuning, believes tire-lifting launches are in its future. Back in Oakland, he performed more shakedown miles. “You can roll at 10 mph, stab the gas pedal, and it rips the tires off. It’s a beast. To me, cars are supposed to be cars, not trailered to shows and shown. Regardless of how much money you spend, you should enjoy them. That’s why I restrain a bit. I’d rather see a customer take it out and flog it; that’s what it’s for.”

Tech Notes Who: Dean Wallace What: 1968 Dodge Dart Where: Oakland, CA

Engine

The drivetrain was a bigger priority than paint. Dean wanted to retain the muscle-car feel with a true Mopar powerplant—no LS swap here. Alloy Motors kept it simple and called upon BluePrint Engines for a 408ci stroker small-block Chrysler. Dean’s Dart is the yin to Geoff’s yang, trading glossy paint for more power.

The 408ci stroker was dyno-tested before arrival; it made 445 hp and 500 lb-ft of torque at the flywheel on pump gas. The 360 LA features a 4-inch bore and a 4-inch stroke, with a steel crank, forged pistons, 10:1 compression, and 63cc aluminum heads. The flat-tappet cam specs are 0.545 intake and 0.545 exhaust, 241 intake and 247 exhaust duration, and 110 degrees of lobe separation. “With that cam and stainless-steel exhaust, it sounds menacing,” Geoff said.

The FAST controller is mounted on the A-pillar and displays engine speed and other vital information. BluePrint Engines dyno-tuned the FAST system before delivery, making for a simple install. The throttle-body sits atop an Edelbrock Performer aluminum intake. The only issue was the HEI distributor rubbing the firewall. An MSD 6AL box mounts on the inner fender.

Alloy Motors rewired the Dart using a Ron Francis wiring kit, keeping it as clean as possible under the hood. An Optima Redtop battery keeps the Dart starting every time. Alloy Motors built the fan shroud for the custom Griffith two-row aluminum radiator.

Earl’s Pro-lite 350 -6AN fittings and lines handle the fuel with an Aeromotive Phantom 340 fuel pump inside a stock replacement tank.

The stroker is dressed up with Mopar Performance valve covers and accessory drive system. The K&N air cleaner was built to grab air from the front of the engine compartment. The intake uses a Spectre hat with a polished tube and custom-built support.

The Moser 8.75-inch Chrysler rear axle with Sure Grip limited-slip keep both wheels spinning for quick burnouts. Hotchkis leaf springs, 1-inch rear sway bar, and Fox shocks round out the rear suspension package.

Drivetrain

The Dart had to have a manual transmission, so Alloy called upon American Powertrain for its Chrysler A-Body Pro-Fit 5-Speed kit. The kit includes crossmember, cables, driveshaft, single-disc clutch, and sheetmetal for raising the transmission tunnel. Dean opted for the Tremec TKO 500, which handles 600 lb-ft of torque, leaving plenty of room for more power. The transmission only weighs 99 pounds. Out back, a Moser-equipped Chrysler 8.75 rear axle features an Auburn Sure Grip limited-slip and 3:73:1 gears, making for fun burnouts.

Wheels & Tires

The blacked-out wheels may cause bad flashbacks for some readers; they’re Chrysler Cop Car wheels built by Wheel Vintiques. They measure 15 inches all around with 225/50R15 Goodyear tires up front and 255/70R15 Mickey Thompson Street E/T Streets in the rear.

Suspension

The Dart’s sharp handling and stance come from the Hotchkis Total Vehicle Suspension System, which features tubular control arms with polyurethane bushings, Fox adjustable struts, and a 1.5-inch sway bar. Hotchkis leaf springs in the rear have improved geometry over the factory. A 1-inch Hotchkis rear sway bar and Fox shocks round out the rear suspension. The front spindles have been swapped out for factory E-Body units as a part of the kit. The system retains the OEM-style torsion-bar suspension, which makes it easy to adjust the height without changing many components. “Just turn some screws and change the whole attitude of the car,” Geoff said. The car is lowered 2 inches in the back and roughly 1.5 inches in the front. “We simply raised it enough to keep the tires from rubbing.”

Brakes

Wilwood forged Superlite brakes with billet hubs, 13-inch rotors, and forged four-piston calipers take care of stopping power all around. The Dart has an SSBC 1-inch-diameter master cylinder and a Wilwood proportioning valve.

A bonus to the clean donor car was a good interior. Alloy Motors only replaced the carpet, headliner, and recovered the rear seat.

Interior

The car started life as a Dart GTS, meaning it had an upgraded interior with nicer seats and door panels. Most of the inside remains as the factory intended, but with a new rear bench cover, carpet, and headliner. The steering wheel is a Flaming River Tuff Wheel. The car originally featured a center console, but that was removed when Alloy rebuilt the transmission tunnel for the new Tremec five-speed.

Exhaust

TTi ceramic-coated shorty headers dump into 2.5-inch collectors. The true dual stainless-steel exhaust features Gibson MWA mufflers and a Magnaflow X-pipe with Gibson tips.

Alloy custom-built the fan shroud for the large Griffin radiator. Other than a stuck thermostat, the car has had zero overheating issues.

The post Alloy Motors Builds a Back-to-Basics 1968 Dodge Dart appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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thecosydragon · 6 years

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My latest blog post from the cosy dragon: Interview with Catherine Evans

An Interview with Catherine Evans, author of The Wrong’un

Catherine Evans’s novel, The Wrong’un, was released by Unbound in May 2018. She’s the founder of www.pennyshorts.com, a website which offers short stories of all genres to readers around the world. She’s a trustee of the Chipping Norton Literary Festival and sponsor of the ChipLitFest Short Story Competition. She lives with her husband in Oxfordshire and has a daughter and three stepdaughters.

Everyone has a ‘first novel’, even if many of them are a rough draft relegated to the bottom and back of your desk drawer (or your external harddrive!). Have you been able to reshape yours, or have you abandoned it for good?

I abandoned my first novel for good. It was a thinly disguised memoir of a very turbulent time in my life. It’s intensely intimate, like reading my own secret diary.

Over the years, what would you say has improved significantly in your writing?

Observation. The older you get the happier you are to just sit and watch.

Some authors are able to pump out a novel a year and still be filled with inspiration. Is this the case for you, or do you like to let an idea percolate for a couple of years in order to get a beautiful novel?

If I was a hermit I’m sure I could pump out a novel a year. My head is always way ahead of my hands; I have the next few books juggling around in my head.

I have heard of writers that could only write in one place – then that cafe closed down and they could no longer write! Where do you find yourself writing most often, and on what medium (pen/paper or digital)?

I can write anywhere, usually directly onto my laptop, often with pencil and paper. The kitchen table is my favourite place because it’s warm and close to the kettle and I really don’t mind interruptions. I love working late into the night when everyone else is asleep; often I realise with a start that it’s 3am, my hands and feet are iceblocks and I have to get up in a couple of short hours for the school run, but I go to bed happy as I’ve done 3,000 words. Those are good nights.

Before going on to hire an editor, most authors use beta-readers. How do you recruit your beta-readers, and choose an editor? Are you lucky enough to have loving family members who can read and comment on your novel?

I have an old schoolfriend who is a natural bookworm, and several other friends from the writer’s groups that I’ve been part of for the past 15 years who are always happy to read whatever I give them, so I’ve never used a beta-reader. My publisher, Unbound, assigned me my editor after I specifically requested her, as she had done such a wonderful job editing ‘A Thing Of The Moment’, by Bruno Noble, a friend with the same publisher. I was lucky she was available; she was forensic in her thoroughness and she really cared about the manuscript, the story, the voice and the characters. I accepted 99% of her suggestions, and I feel that the resulting book is ours, not just mine.

I walk past bookshops and am drawn in by the smell of the books – ebooks simply don’t have the same attraction for me. Does this happen to you, and do you have a favourite bookshop? Or perhaps you are an e-reader fan… where do you source most of your material from?

I love the look, feel and smell of a real book, the covers, the blurbs and I like to know exactly how far along I am and to be able to flip back and forth between the pages. E-books are very useful for travelling, and I often download the sample chapters, but there’s very little I love more than browsing for books, whether it’s in bookshops, in charity shops or at car boot sales, and whenever I go to someone’s house, I can’t stop myself from looking at the books on show. E-books will never replace real books.

I used to find myself buying books in only one genre (fantasy) before I started writing this blog. What is your favourite genre, and have your tastes changed over time?

I’m happy to read any genre as long as I care about the characters. I love books that confound genre, for example David Mitchell’s ‘Cloud Atlas’. I don’t much care for romance (reading about it, that is), but I loved David Nicholl’s very unconventional love story ‘One Day’. My tastes have definitely changed over time. I’ve become a much more critical reader, and I seldom finish a book without thinking about what the writer could have done to make it stronger.

What do you do when you’re not writing?

I perform all the usual tasks that fall under the role of mother; feeding, instructing, lecturing, nagging, hectoring, threatening, bribing and chauffeuring. I’m a trustee of the Chipping Norton Literary Festival, now in its seventh year. We’re always scheming and dreaming up new ways to raise cash, including running writer’s workshops and Open Mic events. Every year in the run-up I wonder why I do it, then I always enjoy the Festival weekend so much and the feedback we receive always fills me with renewed passion for the following year. I’m the Editor of www.pennyshorts.com, a website which publishes short stories of all genres from writers around the world online, making them available for free download. It now features around 200 stories from new and established writers and is steadily growing.

Social media is a big thing, much to my disgust! I never have enough time myself to do what I feel is a good job. What do you do?

Much to my disgust too. Social media provides an anonymous forum for the most appalling rudeness and sheer vitriol, which then spills over into all other spheres of life. I seldom read a thread that doesn’t disintegrate into childish name-calling, and the inane virtue-signalling, loud calls for apologies and screams that this or that is ‘offensive’ can get incredibly boring.

Saying all that, when I add new stories to pennyshorts I tweet about them with a suitable picture and also post about them on Facebook with some info about the author. I’ve been told to open an Instagram account and to start an Author’s page on Facebook, but there never seems to be enough minutes in the day. That doesn’t mean I won’t do it, it just means it’s not high up on my list. It all seems to be a giant echo chamber. I’ve had a twitter account for three years, and have never read a book promoted by a tweet. Sometimes I get unsolicited direct messages from Indie authors, one of which was ‘I’d drink battery acid to get you to download a sample chapter of my book.’ Really? Please don’t, and no thanks.

As you don’t maximise social media, what do you do instead?

I think old-fashioned word of mouth is the most powerful way to promote books. Books demand something of their readers, and if you inhabit the world of a novel for a few hours of your life and love it, you will want others to share that experience. When a friend whose judgement I trust tells me that they loved a particular book, I pay attention, and will read it. I love reading book reviews in newspapers and magazines and online too. I get a lot of ideas from the Sunday Times ‘Culture’ mag.

Now that your first book is out, what’s next?

I’m actively working on two books simultaneously: a novel which examines the pernicious effects of early sexualisation on young girls and a non-fiction book about the philosophical teachings of Martial Arts, and how it can be of benefit in all spheres of life. Once I’m done with those, I’d like to write my mother’s life story. She grew up on a farm in rural Transvaal in the 40s and 50s and studied at the University of Cape Town in the 60s, where she met my father. She’s not a writer, but she’s a born storyteller, and has a unique perspective of South African history and apartheid and many tales to tell about farm life, relationships, neighbours, family and community dynamics. Lastly, I’d like to turn a three act play I wrote several years ago into a novel. So that’s four books in total that have yet to see the light of day – should keep me busy for the next few years.

Answering interview questions can often take a long time! Tell me, are you ever tempted to recycle your answers from one to the next?

Not at all. It’s like free therapy, innit?

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