#Kingdom Roof and Fence

[spindle-girl]

Daybreak 1.7

Let's see how this not-quite Vikare moment works out

Nobody Kingdom Come had affected remembered much of anything.  It was as though they’d fallen asleep – they remembered losing awareness, some reported briefly coming to in the middle of things as the building had shook or they had been knocked around, and they hadn’t really processed or understood much of those glimmers.

well that's a nice preventative measure against being a low-tier Khepri in terms of trauma

I was painfully conscious of the sweat, grime and blood, yet I couldn’t bring myself to go wash up because that would require attention to it. Paradoxical, I was well aware.

heeeyyy. there's that classic wildbow protag acknowledgment of denial

“You know I can’t keep you on the staff,” he said.

i was going to mock this by saying that the prt did so well without having any parahumans on board, but then i remembered lol. having parahumans work with the non-parahumans publicly would be better, since i don't think the whole separate organizations would work even if it actually happened for once. trying to keep it hidden is obvi a bad idea, but so is a complete and total wall between the two

“Can-” I started.  I cleared my throat.  “Can I get back to you on that?  I’ve- I guess I’ve got a family thing I should go to.”

getting fired really must be getting to her if she's using family as an excuse to leave

With the path I’d taken, I reached the backyard first.  The driveway was wider than it was long, crushed gravel, with room for multiple vehicles, and a fence stretched from the house at one corner to the garage at the other.  My mom had invited neighbors, so it was a thing, even if things had reached a more relaxed point.

ok, so i know i already went through the worm epilogues which is why i don't have too much of an issue with ward continuing that, but having suburbs like this really is wild. so far it's been a giant school, which i get for the purpose of giving kids a roof for the day, shoddy apartments, which seems like a decent way to handle the amount of people they got, and general skyscrapers, which was a thing from Rachel's epilogue. i guess suburbs aren't that crazy compared to that, but it seems like such a waste i can't imagine people actually spending time building them. the skyscrapers could be a waste too, but depending on their purpose you could at least argue they can hold a lot of people

i dunno, this whole description followed up by Mark on the lawn chairs gave me whiplash that i haven't gotten so far

“You’re hurt,” she said, touching my arm, where the road rash was. “Scuffed up.” “Did you get the other guy?” she asked.  She reached out and touched my hair, fixing it by moving strands to one side.

the instant touching and fixing. uhg

“You’re fucking it up, mother,” I said.  “You’re fucking- you’re fucking- did dad play along with this?” “I told him everyone was coming.  You, your sister, Crystal, Uncle Mike.  He was surprised, but… pleasantly surprised.”

hey Danny, congrats on not tripping over the other guy. i still don't like you, but i fully understand why you get ranked above Mark now

“In the interest of putting my demons to rest,” I said.  “I’m going to keep my distance.  Don’t call, because I can’t trust a thing you say.  I’ll figure out what I’ll do about Dad later.” “Don’t,” she said.  “Nothing gets better if you close off communication.” There were things I wanted to say to that. It wasn’t worth it.

nah, fuck him and don't come back. oh fuck i just remembered she's staying with her dad. does she move in with Ashley this soon? please say yes, for both Victoria's sake and for the fun it would bring

I reached out toward the window, a foot away from touching it.  I turned on my forcefield. A pause. Then a handprint on the window, in the condensation.  Then another.

this is the scene that led to wildbow deciding on Victoria, right? hello Fragile, can't wait for your interlude

End notes:

Gilpatrick is at least kind to Victoria. still don't like his child militia, no matter how much he tries to thin the group, it's just the Wards 2.0 with all the suck that comes with it and i don't believe that two-year gun rule is going to last more than a month. good to give Victoria a space to stay though

Carol and Mark suck. i wonder when we'll see Amy proper for the first time

oh, yeah, Fume Hood. she's resting up at the hospital. tbh, even knowing she's going to be around for a while i didn't get the sense that this was a Vikare moment. shooting capes has always been seen as a possible strategy. not necessarily smart or very effective, but possible. Vikare's death always seemed more like a accident with people thinking he'd be fine no matter what. maybe it was everything else surrounding it? villain turning hero, divides between civilians and capes, that make it a situation on par with the end of the golden-age

[halcy0ng1rl]

growing pains | F.J.S.J

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Joey: R U OK?  Susie: @ the lodge

3.5k words Susie Lavoie centric hurt/comfort

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Playlist𝅘𝅥𝅮 1: Growing Pains by Ethel Cain  2: Nara Dreamland by Nicole Dollanganger  3: Crack Baby by Mitski 4: Golden Age by Ethel Cain 5: Waco, Texas by Ethel Cain 6: Not a lot, just Forever by Adrianne Lenker

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

1996, Mount Ormond 

The bitingly cold wind wafted through Susie’s hair as she trudged up the steps to the abandoned Mount Ormond Ski resort. It nipped at the static tears in her eyes and snuck through the gap of her sweater’s front pocket, hands stuffed feebly inside. She dredged her soaking canvas sneakers up the crumbling wood steps toward a room she knew all too well. The cracked frosted glass window of her sanctuary door welcomed her home. 

She folded herself onto the painstakingly thin mattress and listened as the wind-beaten old frame sighed under her weight. The dark mauve dusk of evening settled over the inconsequential town of Ormond, and by extension, over Susie. 

      As she pulled the bed’s scratchy faded blue blanket over her nose, she felt the inevitable sting of tears fall from her burning eyes down her cold cheeks. Snot dripped from her nose, and she wiped it with her sleeve. She hated him. 

Congested sobs bubbling up in her throat, hair the texture of dead straw sticking to her forehead, tonight’s altercation played on repeat in her head;

Her mid-term marks in her father's curled fist. Shouting. The deaf ring of flesh hitting flesh. More shouting. 

‘How can my daughter be an idiot and a dyke?!’ Smack. ‘You ungrateful brat!’ Another. ‘Fucking useless’. Crunch. 

She had managed to tune out most of it– his usual drunken stammering– but she couldn’t tune out the pain in her ribs or the throbbing ache under her left cheekbone or the coagulating, purple-green bruises on her shins. Some things she couldn’t escape. But here in this abandoned, snow-soaked castle, she could flee to her own kingdom of solace if only for a few hours. 

Susie had first found the ski lodge with Julie last year when they were juniors at Fairview, first semester. They were out cruising in Susie’s “new” 1990 accord during the Christmas break, snow falling like puffy stars beyond the windshield. Old holiday jingles played over the beat-up speakers, and as they drove down a backroad on the way to one of their only rich friend’s parties, Julie spotted the large chain-link fence hidden in the thickets of frost-covered evergreens. 

Susie parked the car, apprehensive as Julie ran her purple-manicured fingernails over the rusted NO TRESPASSING sign bolted to the fence. The words, emblazoned in crimson red, put a knot in Susie’s stomach. 

She didn’t even want to go to this party, let alone break into a place where they could get in trouble, murdered, lost, or all of the above. But as Julie’s cold hand took hers, all of her worries melted away. So long as they were together, Susie could do anything. 

Pulling her hood over her snow-dotted blonde hair, Julie whisked over the fence with ease. Susie followed suit, albeit less gracefully, and they stared at the forgotten wood monolith in awe once their feet hit the icy pathway. Julie broke out in a rush of excitement. 

“Let’s go, Suse!” 

Susie tried her best to keep up with Julie’s sudden burst of energy, her breath visible in the night air as she clamoured up the hill. Inside was a world of their wildest dreams. 

They spent the night pouring over the dusty wood bannisters and abandoned vending machines, enchanted by the cavernous hallways and cracking upholstery, all left permanently as they were when the resort closed. Stuck in time. Moonlight and snowflakes filtered through a large concave in the roof and illuminated the large centrepiece fireplace. Cracked wooden beams stretched across the high ceilings for what seemed like miles.

 It was the most beautiful place they’d ever seen.

Holding a hazy green bottle of champagne, Julie leaned against the water-ring-covered bar in the chalet. She dusted the cobwebs from the glass with her gloved palm. 

       The moon from the window behind her illuminated the contours of her like a halo as she smiled skeptically at Susie, raising the bottle. Susie felt a painful and sudden yearning to reach over the countertop and close the distance between them in response, but instead, she simply nodded. Stared into the beautiful, gleaming blue eyes before her.

 Julie popped the cork. 

“To the other resort that shut this place out of business,” she toasted, and lifted the bottle to her cracked lips.

 They took turns sipping the bubbly drink, laughing like they hadn’t in years as they posed like 1950s pin-up girls on the countertop and talked like detectives they’d heard in movies. The sound of tipsy giggles filled the once-empty chamber of the resort and echoed back at them, sweet and melodic. 

The world introducing Susie to this place was the kindest thing it had ever done for her right next to introducing her to Julie in the eighth grade. 

When they finally made it to the party, it couldn’t compare to the fun they’d had at the lodge. 

Even now thinking about that day made Susie’s tears quiet, and the thrumming of her heart steady. She held herself together, knees up to her chin, and closed her eyes. Thinking of Julie and snow. The gentle scent of her car's heat enveloping them in the dark cab when they drove back home, only faintly lit by the dashboard. 

‘Too bad she’s preoccupied with he who shall not be named,’ she retorted to herself bitterly. 

The warm visual of Julie in the snow morphed into Frank in the firelight, the underside of his jaw highlighted by orange as he pressed his thin lips to Julie’s, the scent of whiskey on her breath for the rest of the night. Susie could smell it when she hugged her goodbye. 

Even so, she couldn’t be mad at him for long. They were cut from the same cloth and he had saved them from dying of boredom before senior year. But part of her was ambivalent toward the lodge no longer being hidden as the forest's best-kept secret. Upset that Julie wanted him over her, and that he returned the sentiment. The conflicting feelings she had for Julie made her want to buy a gun, shoot 30 people, and then herself. It didn’t seem fair. 

She thought of them, toiling around on the dust-covered comforters in the next room over. A shared cigarette burning between parted lips, smoke funnelling into the air (Susie knew Julie wouldn’t object if he offered). They were probably glad she couldn’t come that day— it may have even been their plan. Julie knew she had a test that morning.

‘You’re my best friend. You know I’d never leave you out, right?’ And yet she did. 

But then she thought of all the fun the four of them had together these past few months and flashes of Julie’s black-lipped smile brought forth that feeling of belonging she sought for. Her friends filled the gaping hole life had carved in her chest. 

With a pang of guilt, Susie remembered her obligation. Tonight was a legion night, her legion night and she was spending it wallowing her pain away dreaming wistfully about a girl who would never love her back. Angry for reasons she had made up in her head. She hugged herself tighter. ‘Pathetic’. 

Before this evening she had planned to rent a copy of whatever interested her at the video store and formulate her ideas whilst they curled up on the couch munching on popcorn, staring at Frank’s tiny box TV. Yet here she was. Ditching them. 

They were probably all waiting for her. 

Her phone buzzed, confirming her suspicion. 

Joey: R U OK?  Susie: @ the lodge

Immediately after she sent the text with shaky fingers, Julie’s number flashed across the tiny viridian screen. The phone vibrated, and she hesitated for a moment– then put it to her ear. 

“Hello? Susie?” Julie’s voice cracked through the poor signal. Susie sat on the edge of the bed, picking at her leggings. 

“Hey Julie,” her voice worked hard against the lump in her throat. Julie picked up on her tone immediately. 

“Is everything okay? Joey said you’re at the lodge.” 

“Yeah, I– uh,” Susie exhaled a shaky breath, watched it dissipate into the air. Julie would understand, surely, but putting words to everything she felt would be like having her teeth pulled. She ran her tongue along her braces and bit the inside of her scarred-up cheeks silently. The fear of being seen as a burden outweighed her need for reassurance. 

The sickly-sweet voice on the other end broke her from her reverie.

“Are you there, Suse?” 

She wiped her runny nose and teary eyes with her sleeve, murmuring a small “yeah,” in response. 

“We’ll be there soon, okay? Don’t go anywhere.” She could hear Joey’s concerned whispering in the background; ‘What’s she saying?’ ‘Was it her dad?’ He was probably fluttering nervously over Julie, playing with his hands. Susie began to sob. ‘So much for playing it cool,’ she thought. 

“Okay,” she choked.

“Love you, we’ll be there soon, I promise.” 

“Love you too,” when Susie flipped her phone shut, she heard a snippet of Frank’s manic raving behind Julie’s soft reassurances; ‘We should get back at him, strike while the iron is still hot-’ and flopped back onto the bed, eyes on the ceiling. 

She had thought of it before. Taking a kitchen knife to his throat in the middle of the night, beating him senseless and leaving him to starve to death in the closet under the stairs. Even petty things, like smashing the glass cabinet that held all of his ski trophies and snapping the gold-coated pieces of metal into unrecognisable specks of dust. She wanted so badly for him to hurt, to feel all of the pain he caused her. To let go of all of the rage she felt. 

She would love to ply off his fingernails one by one.

However, every time the knife block in the kitchen whispered to her, a wave of nausea would settle deep in her stomach. She would be letting him win if she gave in to their pleas. 

Every inch of skin sliding overtop of her bones shook with resentment and made her sick with a desperation to rip it all off. 

The salty taste of anger fell into her mouth as she screamed into the pillow, tearing at her hair. She tore the choker off her neck and threw her shoes in the corner of the room, then collapsed once more and screamed until her throat felt the same texture as wood bark. 

“Why are you like this Susie?” She mocked, lifting her face up. “Why are you like this Susie?” She straddled the pillow, picturing her father’s limp body in its place as she curled her hands into fists and threw blow after blow at it. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS, SUSIE?! WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS, SUSIE?!” 

For the one time he caught her smoking, 

For the one time she got a 40 on a science test, 

For the one time he saw her ex-girlfriend kiss her in the driveway,

For every single time she simply existed and he took it out on her as if she had just committed a crime worthy of capital punishment, she threw her fist at the pillow. 

…

When Julie walked into the room, she stumbled upon Susie sitting red-faced on the floor surrounded by feathers with her head in her hands. Smudged mascara had cascaded down her cheeks. 

Immediately, Julie dove into the fluffy down and enveloped Susie in a warm hug. Startled– yet grateful to see her– Susie returned the favour and found solace in the warmth of her neck. 

She smelled like the expensive perfume her parents had gotten her for Christmas last year: vanilla & sandalwood. 

Her hands dug into Julie’s shoulders,

“I just want to fucking burn it all down.” 

“I know,” she held her tighter “I know.” 

Susie’s eyes locked onto Frank, leaning against the doorframe with a flashlight. An uncharacteristic look of sympathy contorted his pimpled face. His eyes told a level of understanding beyond words, but he was still tapping his foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, some sinister plan brewing behind his gentle gaze.

She knew what he was thinking of doing. Silently, she shook her head. 

 Joey stood right beside Julie, a soft hand on Susie’s heaving shoulders. 

They had come to console her in one of her darkest times and were willing to give up their night to do so. Weren’t afraid of the hysteric wailing, or the uncomfortable silence that followed. The very thought of their sacrifice made Susie’s heart swell with affection. 

When she finally calmed down and pulled away, Julie chuckled. 

“Guess I know better than to ask what happened here,” she smiled and gestured to the decimated pillow. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Susie felt her lips curl into a sheepish grin. The room sighed. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she stood up and dusted herself off, kicking the feathers to the corner to join the dust bunnies. Julie threw her knapsack on the bed as Susie hastily embraced Joey and waved at Frank as he settled the flashlight on the nightstand, a silent token of apology. They all moved closer to the centre of the room as Julie unzipped the bag. 

“We stopped by shoppers on the way here, sorry it took so long,” blurs of colour folded out of the bag and onto the bed “but we picked some stuff up for you.” Julie leaned against the bedframe to give Susie time to examine her wares. 

On the dusty mattress lay a box of electric blue hair dye, a pack of menthol Newports, a crunchy chocolate bar, fluffy white teddy bear, and a cassette tape with ‘for Suzzie :)’ emblazoned on it in permanent marker. Susie was overwhelmed.

“Guys–” 

Julie wrapped an arm around her from behind and pointed at her presents with a peeling manicured finger, “The dye, crunch, and bear are from me, the mixtape is from Joey, and the Newports are from Frank,” she jokingly scoffed and glared at him from the corner of her eye “because he obviously wants to kill you before we graduate.” 

He flipped off Julie with a smirk and walked closer, “your favourite, right?” 

Susie stuffed the pack into her front pocket, the familiar weight soothing her “Yeah, thanks– you remembered.” 

Frank tousled her knotted hair, “Kinda hard to forget when you reek of mint every time you get to the caf.” 

Susie punched him lightheartedly– eliciting a mock cry of pain from the boy– and bent over to caress the glossy cassette tape with her fingertips, brushing over the inscription of her name. There were little stars and lightning bolts doodled next to it in gel pen. On the back, it said ‘from Joey >:)’. 

“That was supposed to be your Christmas gift, but I figured you should have it now.” 

“It’s mid-November,” 

“I like to plan ahead.” 

She grinned at his obvious lie. “So what’s on it?” 

Joey pulled a piece of creased notebook paper from his pocket, tracklist written in hasty scrawl “I had Julie help me out, you can yell at her if it's wrong.” 

Susie took her time examining the note, most of it spent deciphering his handwriting– tracks from Aphex Twin, Nine inch Nails, and even some of the obscure techno artists she annoyed everyone else with were there. Her lips curled over her braces as she beamed. 

“This is sick, Joey.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s perfect.” 

His shoulders sagged like he had been tense for the whole minute this interaction played out. “I’ll bring my player up here at some point,” Frank shot him a wink, and Susie pretended not to notice, but it made her feel a little sick. 

She loved Joey, but not that way. She didn’t know how to tell him that, though, and she also didn’t want to lead him on. Her heart only pined for Julie, who was waiting idly for Susie to pay attention to her. How the tables had turned. 

Susie’s black nails gripped the polar-white teddy bear and stared into its beady brown eyes, bewildered by the care her friends had shown her. She wasn’t used to this. “How much of this did you actually pay for?” 

Julie eyed Frank and put a finger to her lips “That’s classified.” 

Susie wanted to kiss her right then and there. So many nights she lay awake and fantasized about it; how she would taste, where her hands would travel, if her braces would make it awkward. Would she whisper to her and throw her blonde hair over one shoulder so it wouldn’t get in the way? Would Julie taste the menthols on her tongue? 

Would the nicotine on it drive her crazy?

Every night would end the same, with Susie going to bed alone in her cold bedroom, forever unfulfilled. Left solitary to wander the confines of her unsatisfactory thoughts, stuck at an impasse. Susie knew better than anyone that you don’t always get what you want, but why couldn’t she have this one good thing? 

She’d have to settle with simply being her friend and the thought terrified her. Julie seemed like her only ticket to happiness, the cure-all for her woes. ‘Take me,’ she wanted to scream. ‘Just fucking take me already!’ 

The stuffed animal in her arms’ stitched-on mouth smiled as if to reassure her–which sadly didn’t work much. She tried to distract herself by imagining different ways to give it a makeover, she could glue on some googly eyes, patch on some fabric, spray Julie’s perfume on it– 

Okay, maybe that angle wasn’t working either. 

Julie’s voice poked through her dizzy trance.

“You wanted to dye your hair blue, right?” 

“Hm?” 

Julie shook the box of hair dye, “You wanted to dye your hair blue, right? You said something about it the other day.” Concern painted her perfect face. 

“Oh, sorry, it’s—yes. I wanted to dye it blue—thank you, Julie–” Fumbling, Susie looked down at her faded pink tendrils: brown was steadily leaching into the strands. She dreaded the thought of being brunette again. 

“Are you okay? You spaced out on me there. We can leave if–”

“No!” She blurted, “I’m okay, more than, I just wasn’t expecting all this. That’s all.” 

Again, her heart filled with appreciation and her face grew hot with the embarrassment of being perceived. She took a split-second moment to lavish in the fact that for once, people cared enough to remember the little things, like her favourite brand of cigarettes, the music she listened to– even something as trivial as the colour she offhandedly said she wanted to dye her hair.  It was such an unnatural feeling, to be revered. Her eyes darted around the room to look at the faces of her friends, all of a sudden so grateful for them—fuzzy warmth cascaded through her body. 

Julie waited for her to continue, one hand on Susie’s arm. “I thought you’d come here to drag me out, get me back on my feet to continue the night’s activities– not this,” Susie’s eyes met the floor, full of guilt. How could she ever think so lowly of them? Julie’s brows furrowed, then softened, her eyes gentle. 

“I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to, okay? Even if that means postponing legion–” she rolled her eyes at the term Frank had coined, “--activities. You come first,” Susie found herself in Julie’s embrace once more, inhaling that sweet scent on her skin. “We can’t stop that prick from hurting you, but the least we can do is be there for when he does.” 

Frank tilted his head after a few moments of silence and put words to what everybody was thinking yet didn’t want to admit: “We could kill the fucker.” 

Nobody laughed. Joey’s face turned to stone, and Julie only clutched the girl in her arms tighter. Thunder cracked outside and icy sheets of rain slammed against the window, as inside, the four of them raged with the same deadly force. 

All they could do was wait for the storm to pass. 

…

The next day, in Julie’s small bathroom, Susie sat on the tile floor with her neck craned over the bathtub, freshly bleached scalp covered in cerulean sludge. 

“You’re gonna look like Marge,” Frank’s scratchy chuckle echoed. 

“Oh, shut up!” Julie pushed him, then bent over Susie and smiled haphazardly. “You’re gonna look great.” 

Joey, leaning against the countertop, put up a hand in defence, “Better than looking like a walking piece of bubblegum.” 

“Hey, you all said it looked good pink–” 

“Don’t listen to these morons, Suse,” 

Julie tilted her best friend’s head back, smiled, and turned on the handheld tap with blue-stained fingertips.

 I’m home, Susie thought, I’m home here. 

[bahbahhh]

begin again

a lot of change happens in between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. let’s fill in the gaps.

zelda pov | zelink | totk spoilers | rated T zelinkweek2023 | @zelinkcommunity

[first] [previous] [ ao3 ]

Again, another shout out to my amazing beta reader @zeldaelmo who really helped me nail the ending of this chapter.

chapter 4

for the prompt “hand-in-hand”

It has been raining for the better part of a week. Plantlife in Kakariko is thriving. Lantern Lake is swollen and clear. A small pool of flooding has begun to collect in the road between the inlet of the Goddess statue and Impa’s House. It’s far enough from the storefronts and the crops not to raise any concern, and a family of ducks has taken refuge where Cado usually stands, providing amusement for the Sheikah children. 

Paya says the rain is a blessing. Zelda has been trying to see the brighter side of things, but it feels a little too ironic to be reminding herself of that in the middle of a rainstorm. She’s trapped in one of the small stables on the border of the village. She had been taking a walk in a lighter pass of the storm, trying to scatter the anxious energy that builds up naturally when she’s surrounded by four walls for too long, when the sky suddenly started dumping rain again. She had to duck into the stable to keep from getting swept down the hill. 

She listens to the rain drumming against the roof and makes a mental note to let Paya know the thatching is in need of some repair. 

“That’s not very ‘bright side’ of me,” Zelda says to herself, scooting back from a particularly steady stream of rainwater leaking down beside her. She sets her jaw and looks out over Kakariko. The rain is so heavy, all she can make out are soggy blobs of color that resemble the houses and banners and fences she knows are there. 

Water pours down the slope from the northern entrance. Beneath the gate, shadows dance in the narrow pass between flashes of lighting, playing tricks with her eyes. She spots shadows that look like tree branches growing out of the rock, a horseless carriage, and a lone figure. 

All traffic in or out of the village has completely stopped. The clouds are angry-looking and thick, trapped by the valley so the moisture collects in the air. It’s grown so heavy, Zelda tastes it in every breath. The Sheikah say this happens from time to time. The Pillars of Levia are thought to resemble a giant hand that catches clouds foolish enough to pass overhead. The storm swirls above her, fingers of heat lightning crawling across the sky, threatening to reach for the peaks surrounding Lantern Lake. It has kept the Rito messengers away. 

Zelda squints. The last shadow she spotted in the pass, resembling a figure, has remained steady between the sheets of rain. She leans forward quickly, her heart in her throat, fingers braced against the nearly stable beam. 

Someone is approaching the village. 

The Rito wouldn’t use the pass and even though it’s muddled, she would know this outline anywhere. She studied it stubbornly one hundred years ago, and then with urgency and desperation during her stasis. She’s missed it for ten long months. 

A loud clap of thunder jolts her out of her shelter, urging her forward, and his name bursts from her lips before she can stop it.

“Link?!”

The figure stops and turns in the direction of her voice. The storm slows enough so she can see the spaces between drops of falling rain and for a heartbeat, it’s almost like they start slowly moving in reverse, back up to the clouds. Another random moment where she swears she can taste magic, where the candle inside she’s constantly searching for temporarily explodes with Light. It’s so bright, she might be able to reach it this time, but she’s not focused on finding where her magic has been hiding. She’s looking at Link.

He’s soaking wet, clothing plastered with mud, hair smeared across his face. The luminous stones behind his eyes flash in her direction, like a wild animal in the dark, and then go out completely. He slumps against the gatepost and collapses forward. In the same instant, all the rain crawling back up into the clouds bursts free of whatever strange reversing she’s set off and it all accelerates back down in real time. Zelda sprints forward, slips in the mud, twice, and has to crawl through the flash flood from the pass the rest of the way.

He’s unconscious and pale. She scans his body for evidence of injury—blood, bruising, torn clothing. At first glance, he’s intact, but that only worries her more; turns her heart into a humminbird that beats against her ribs. She knows things can be broken inside, and briefly recalls Mipha once told her injuries you can’t see are often the worst. She feathers her hands over him hesitantly, whimpering his name, and then gathers him up in her arms. 

He’s hot. Hotter than should be possible. Like he’s a stone on Death Mountain that would be sizzling in the rain. It’s uncomfortable to palm his forehead, to hold him tight against her chest, but she endures, grits her teeth, and tries to lift him. Between the mud and the entire weight of his body and gear, they end up falling face first after a few steps. 

She smacks her chin hard. Stars swim in her vision, metal fills her mouth and the pitter-patter of the storm on the cliffs starts to sound like too many legs running toward them. Chimes in Kakariko red whirl like gears in the wind. The entire world leans over her, dangerously close, and she knows it’s the storm playing tricks, like the shadows in the pass, but he’s really in her arms, and they’ve been like this before, and if she’s losing him again–

She waits for the next boom of thunder to pass and starts to scream.

—-

Eventually someone hears her. Dorian helps Zelda carry Link to Impa’s House. Paya has to pry her fingers out of Link’s tunic. They hastily set up a cot between the stairs to the second floor and Impa offers one of her pillows for his head. They strip the clothes off him, dry his skin with a towel, and wrap him in a blanket. He has some bruising on his arms, a few scratches on his hands and knees, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary for what can be expected with travel. He’s thinner than she remembers. Paya retrieves his hand and gently pinches beneath his knuckles. His skin remains raised where she pulled when she takes away her hand.

Paya immediately rises and disappears under the stairs. A century ago, Zelda was told the gift of healing was known to others touched by her Power. Her mother died before she could pass along the important secrets of weaving magic over skin, stitching up wounds, washing away sickness. Her father told her the Goddess would reveal everything once she unlocked her Power. But a hundred years suspended by it, so divine she hemorrhaged molten sorcery every time she opened her lips, and still she heard no wisdom. No secrets. 

She tries to summon gold to her fingers, pressing them against his skin, focused on his suffering even though it physically hurts her to do it, but nothing comes. Paya has to pull her hands away again when she returns. 

“Here, he needs water.” Paya helps Zelda lift him enough to guide a cup to his lips. Most of it spills down his chin and pools on his neck. He sighs, limbs coming to life enough to wrap his hands around hers on the cup. He keeps his eyes shut and drinks the rest. This is more than a bad fever or a traveler’s virus. She can see all the nights he’s refused to sleep in the rim of fatigue around his eyes, so dark they look like smudges of coal. 

“You lied,” Zelda says, voice quivering. She blinks back the sting of tears. “About the rest. You lied.” 

Link falls back against the pillow. His eyes open for a second, an apology in his weakened gaze, before he passes back out. 

It is the same look he gave her right before he died. 

—-

The fever breaks the next day. Paya tries to coax some herbs and tea into him, but he pushes them away and signs for his pack when he has enough strength to sit up. He pulls out a tonic, noxious green, and a spiky yellow fruit that smells like rotting meat when it cracks open. He takes down both with a grimace and only then accepts the tea. Paya inspects the fruit and jots down some notes studiously. It’s what Zelda should be doing, but she’s still too angry to learn anything from him. 

Zelda, instead, sits in the corner of the room and studies the journey logged by the Sheikah Slate. He has four hundred and twenty seven ancient screws, twelve dozen guardian legs, a hundred and four ancient gears, and fifty one burnt out cores. She can see where he used fast travel by the abrupt gaps in his trail, and while it’s more than she likes, there are plenty of paths where he traveled on foot, so at least he kept his word about that. There is an intricate weaving of journey between the Great Plateau and southern Hyrule, where he jumped back and forth during the initial hesitancy to enter the Shrine of Resurrection. He didn’t clear it after he wrote to her. It’s the single glowing dot in the southwest entirety of the map. His trail moves up into Central Hyrule, all the way to the island north of the Quarry Ruins. Any evidence of the shrine she assumes brought him there is gone.

Then he moves in the direction of the castle, circles the foundation of the sacred grounds a few times, fast travels to Great Hyrule Forest, and then fast travels again to the shrine at the base of the Whistling Hill. Strangely, he doesn’t clear any of the shrines he traveled to. He passed through Riverside Stable, maybe to grab a horse or to rest, and then follows the road through the Dueling Peaks up to Kakariko. 

“When did you start feeling ill?” Zelda asks.

Link balances the tea carefully in one hand and motions for the Slate with the other.  Zelda moves over to him, and takes a seat by his cot. 

‘The shrine here,’ he points to the island next to Hyrule Castle. ‘Was situated deep in a cave covered by thorns. Hadn’t been back since the day I found it, so the thorns grew back.’

“How did you get around the thrones? Fast travel?” 

‘I always burn them when I see them. Bad for horses.’ 

Zelda knows smoke to be deadly, but it wouldn’t cause fever. She takes the Slate back from him and pinches her fingers to zoom all the way in on the island. 

“Was there anything different about the cave since the first time you were there?”

Link shakes his head.

“Nothing strange?” Zelda presses. 

‘The cave runs deep. Smelt funnier than I remembered.’

“Funnier?”

‘Like fumes. Decomposition. There was a lot of moisture inside. The Central Hyrule team said they got hit with a bad storm recently.’

“I believe it. Probably the same storm that's stuck in the valley.”

“You didn’t drink any of the water inside, right?” Paya interrupts gently. 

Link gives her a flat look. 

“S-s-sorry!”

“It’s not a ridiculous question, you're known to eat dubious food when you're desperate enough,” Zelda says. 

Link shrugs. 

“Did you immediately feel sick?”

He thinks for a beat, and then signs. ‘No. Maybe the next day?’

“At the sacred grounds?” 

He lifts his eyebrows up at Zelda and she bristles. “I was curious.”

“Should we put out an alert to avoid the cave until it can be properly investigated?” Paya asks.

‘There are a lot of old places in Hyrule people should avoid. Lots of unchecked and forgotten old magic. This was just a cave with damp air. It could have easily been something I ate.’

“Did you take any mushrooms from inside the cave?” Zelda says. 

He glares at her. 

“Again, a fair question, is it not?” Zelda straightens her spine. He huffs and shrugs.  “It doesn’t look like you rested much in the last two months.” Zelda points at the Slate. “It was probably a combination of small things- too much fast travel, monster patrolling, dehydration, the lack of a proper meal on the road. You are strong and you recover quicker than most, but you aren’t immortal.”

Link gets a far off look in his eyes. Before she can take it back, he signs, ‘It’s a fine line.’

He sinks down into the cot, paler than before, and rolls over. Paya goes back to studying the smelly fruit. Zelda sits beside him, stuck with the memory from a hundred years ago she summoned without meaning to. She is good at giving warnings, urging caution, chastising recklessness, and then quick to be left behind a tree, or in town, far from the fight or the hazards. Or worse, she gets herself stranded – the Yiga attack a century ago, slipping face-first in the mud yesterday – and requires rescue. Only when it is too late, like after the Calamity burst from the castle and their friends were slain, does she seem capable of offering more than words. 

She thinks about when she tried to send her response out to him at the Shrine of Resurrection, how brave it felt to send her letter. How she imagined he might feel reading it, whether her words alone would give him the courage to face his fears, or inspire him to come racing to Kakariko to see her. 

At the end of the day, like the proposal still at the bottom of her adventure pouch, like all her prayers to the Goddess, it's just more words.

—-

Purah and Robbie arrive in Kakariko three days later. With more tonic, fruit, and tea, Link’s strength returns, and he sets to work in the village. The rain moves away from the valley with his recovery. He gathers up cuccos, repairs the thatching, overpays for and cleans out the inventories of High Spirits and the Curious Quiver. The Sheikah are quick to forget how sick he was. Zelda doesn’t hear anyone warning him to take it easy. The requests for his aid are plenty. 

She can’t help but feel like he’s keeping busy to avoid her.

The village hosts a communal meal to celebrate the storm ending. They pull out a large pot, set it over the fire by High Spirits and serve bowl after bowl of creamy vegetable soup until every belly in the village is full. Koko’s surprises everyone with her signature hot apples, made possible by a donation of all the goat butter Link bought from Trissa. He also supplies a handful of rare big truffles from his travels for the soup.

He just gives it all to them. 

It shouldn’t bother her, but she can’t seem to shake the weight of his body in her arms or the coal under his eyes, or the way he looked at her the day he died. She catches herself staring at him, unapologetically, searching for signs he needs rest. She’s doing it now, as he finally sits down with some food with the Sheikah elders, Purah, and Paya. 

“You with us, Princess?” Purah says. Zelda drops her spoon in her bowl.  

“Me? Yeah, sure. Yes. What were you saying?”

“I was just summarizing what is left in phase one of the restoration. Link only has six shrines left in Central Hyrule and then all the shrines in Akkala. We got a report from the Central Hyrule guardian team. Link was able to gather a handful of the cores when he was there, but they have the greatest concentration of guardians in all of Hyrule. He’ll need to go back and aid with the–”

“He was sick,” Zelda says.

“I heard you used durian from Faron. Do you have any more? Smells like feet, but does wonders for my joints,” Robbie says between bites of apple.

“Thank the Goddess our Linky is feeling better!” She snaps her fingers. “We could probably head out tomorrow–”

“He only just started feeling better.”

“I’m fine.” It’s the first time he’s spoken out loud since he arrived. His voice is raspy and tired. It only fuels her momentum. 

Zelda snaps her head toward Link. “You were so sick you couldn’t stand. I saw how much ground you covered those last few weeks. All of Faron and the rest of Necluda? The terrain surrounding Mount Floria–the Zonai Ruins alone should have taken you a month.”

He switches back to sign, his eyes narrowing slightly. ‘I’ve done it before.’

“Yes, but just because you have doesn’t mean you should. What if you fainted on a mountain? Or slipped crossing the falls. You won't be able to fast travel away from danger much longer.”

‘I know that.’

“You still have to clear the Shrine of Resurrection.”

Link gets dangerously still. She’s seen this stature before, mostly when he’s preparing to strike. In the calm before an ambush, or when he’s surrounded, plotting out the next ten moves in the space between seconds. 

And that’s his problem right?

Zelda sets down her bowl, digs her heels in, and turns to Impa. “I propose we pause the shrines. It doesn’t need to be done in a year. We are already behind schedule. We can focus on the towers, or the Divine Beasts for a little while.”

“I can finish the shrines,” Link says. Zelda doesn’t look at him. She looks at Purah. “It would be a good opportunity to compare the Sheikah Slate to your new prototype.  Probably the last time you’ll be able to run any pending mechanics before the Slate is gone. The plan is to destroy the Slate when the shrines are gone, right?”

Purah adjusts her crimson glasses and looks down at the Sheikah Slate. She grips it like it might grow legs and leap off her lap at any second. Zelda can see the gears begin to turn in her head. The Anti-Aging Rune is calibrated for the Sheikah Slate. How could she justify keeping the Slate functional after they complete the initial restoration phase for a personal project no one sanctioned.  

“I do want to review the…camera function. Yeah, yes. I still need to build out the software for the Purah Pad so it compiles relevant photos into a compendium like the Sheikah Slate.”

“Can’t you just load all the data Link has already collected from the Sheikah Slate? Master Link spent three years collecting it all for you,” Paya says. At least someone else appreciates his efforts. 

“What’s the fun in that?” Purah waves her hand dismissively. 

‘I still think we should call it something different…” Robbie grumbles.

“No one will trust a device called the ‘Divine Switch’. Let it go.” 

Impa looks at Link quietly, absentmindedly pressing two fingers to her third eye. Zelda can see something registering across the Sheikah’s face. Was she still seeing the Hero of the Wild, warden of Courage, Hylia’s fist? Or was she seeing the only sparring partner that ever matched her intensity, who always used to return with a pumpkin in his early campaigns because he knew how much the Sheikah missed home? Is she finally remembering the boy behind the Champion blue?

She looks at Zelda next. Zelda holds her breath. Does she see the avatar of the Goddess? The lost Princess of Hyrule? Or is it the girl all those years ago Impa stumbled upon, wandering the empty halls of a stone castle in the middle of the night, desperate for a friend? 

Impa takes her hand away from her face and nods. “Vah Rudania is already resting. We should support the burial of the remaining Divine Beasts. Purah can take the Slate and run any final tests. It will give me time to formulate the announcement of my retirement.”

Zelda blinks. Paya drops her food. “G-grandmother? What are you talking about?”

“The abdication of my title.”

“W-when?”

Impa squints at the night sky. It’s the clearest it’s been in a week. “Now? Now sounds good.”

“What are you talking about? Who will–” Paya freezes as Impa pulls off her hat, revealing a thin coil of silver braid on the top of her head that partially uncoils and drops down by her ear. 

She sighs and sets the hat down in Paya’s lap. “Here you go.”

“Grandmother. No! No. You can’t be– Princess? Master Link? Tell her she can’t do this!”

“You think we’ve ever been able to Impa what to do?” Link says. Zelda finally looks at him. The brief flash of irritation she ignited with her comment about the Shrine of Resurrection is gone. He’s painfully unreadable again.

“Great auntie?”

“Don’t look at me. I’m just a kid.”

For now, Zelda thinks. Purah winks at her.

“R-r-robbie?”

“Will you give me the ranking authority to name the next Slate?”

Paya grimaces. Robbie wilts. He stands, takes the hat, and places it atop Paya’s head. Her eyes disappear from view beyond the weighted brim. “Celebrations, celebrations then. I’m getting another apple.”

Everyone starts laughing. Everyone but Link. It takes Zelda a second to come back to him, but when she does, she finds him just staring at her from across the fire. It’s how she imagined she looked the day he involuntarily destroyed her plans, except Zelda knew exactly what she was doing to him when she recommended they pivot. He isn’t exactly neutral or angry. It’s an odd look she catches between the flames. Rare, for someone who is always ten steps ahead. 

Almost like he’s surprised. 

—-

Someone brings out a batch of pumpkin ale once the children are all put to bed. Zelda lets Robbie fill her mug twice, enjoying the slow spread of warmth up from her toes and the hint of nutmeg and rum from the Lurelin barrel that lingers between each sip. There is music and easy conversation and more food. It isn't after midnight that she takes her mug and wanders away from the group, in the direction of her cot on Impa’s second floor. She pauses in the foyer and drifts toward the wall with the Calamity Ganon tapestry. 

She reaches out and drags her fingers over the depiction of the ancient princess. She’s tracing the threads of pale yellow depicting the Sacred Power when she hears him come up behind her. He only makes sound when he wants to be noticed, so assumes he’s been following her since she left the group. Old habits.

“It is really a terrible way to chronicle major historical events. The craftsmanship is beautiful. I can’t imagine the hundreds of hours it took to stitch all these little guardians, but it leaves an awful lot up to interpretation. Calamity Ganon could easily be mistaken for a dragon. Can you imagine? Facing off against a wicked version of Dinraal or Farosh?”

“I prefer the demon boar.” Link stands beside her. He smells like campfire and forest. It’s the first time they’ve been alone in almost a year. Zelda tells herself the heat in her face is because of the ale. 

“I’m sorry about the shrines.” She extends her mug to him. He accepts and takes a sip without taking his eyes off the tapestry. 

“No you aren’t,” he says finally, offering the drink back to her. She takes it and pulls it close to her chest like a shield because he’s right. “Probably for the best. I’m not good at stepping back once I’ve started something.”

She lets out a puff of laughter and rotates her gaze back at the tapestry. The ancient hero’s hair is fiery red, a detail that always amused her. Zelda is an exact copy of the ancient princess. You can clearly see she was Hylian by the ears, but the hero has none of Link’s features. He barely looks human. They chose the Champion blue from the color found in the threads that make up the ancient hero’s armor, but up close, she can see it’s a blending. They could have just as easily gone with green. Perhaps her father had wanted to harness the protective glow of the sacred blade…the sacred blade…

It wasn’t strapped to his back when they fell in the mud. Wasn’t at his bedside while he rested. She hasn’t seen it since he left for Eldin all those months ago.  

It isn’t in the sheath he wears now. The hilt carries the same pattern on the snowquill set he gave her before Mount Lanayru. Rito. Same as his bow. He’s replaced his blue hoops with an amber set from Gerudo Town. Urbosa owned a similar pair. Under his tunic, which has tiny stamps of mushrooms along the collar, she can see the scales of Mipha’s feather-light armor.

“Where’s the Master Sword?” Zelda asks, a sudden bitter aftertaste building in her throat. Link reaches for her ale again and finishes it. He smacks his lips, sets the glass down, and faces her. 

‘It needed to heal,’ he signs. ‘I decided to let it.’

Zelda sees the journey captured by the Sheikah Slate again. The Great Plateau, Central Hyrule and the cave shrine, the sacred grounds, and then…and then…

Great Hyrule Forest. 

He put it back after all the letters. Without her. Not that she owned the moment in any way, but it was something she always envisioned them doing together. Hand-in-hand. 

It served its purpose. He served his purpose; freed her from the Calamity and vanquished the Scourge of Hyrule Castle—

Suddenly, his letter feels less like a prayer and more like a confession. He admitted to running from destiny, as fast and for as long as he could, and only after experiencing an uncomplicated wonder (not her warnings or her reassurances or her memories) did he finally take up the Sword.

And now he can offer something different—his hands. And everywhere in Hyrule, people are reaching. They are burying the past and starting anew, and they still call her Princess, but no one is reaching for her.

How can they? You can’t move forward and still look back.

Link is able to choose this new life and he has. He already did. The thing that brought them together at the start of all this, the weapon that bound him to her, is gone.

Zelda flits her eyes toward the tapestry—to the ancient princess who looks unquestionably like her.  She’s eternally reaching, but for what? When the Calamity was gone and her magic burnt out, was the hero standing across from her then? 

Was he still holding the Sword?

[sillygooseuniversity11]

Universal Events: 10 Boys, One Crown, One Down

CHAPTER TWO: ONE ANOTHER

Chapter One

TW(FOR THE ENTIRE BOOK): (Violent) Death, intense gore, depression, slight ableism (SOMETIMES)Keep reading

NNAMDI'S PERSPECTIVE

I knew this could end badly. Confronting someone as hotheaded as Kaede may result in making him angrier, but this didn't mean he was a lost cause. He's an unpredictable person that takes a little bit longer to understand than others, that's all.

I leisurely strolled down the brick road leading to the garden, the white metal arch adorned with flowers of all varieties and thick, thorny vines dipping down a little too low for my tastes— even if I did have to jump to touch them— woven around the frame. Around them, there were rows upon rows of colorful bushes, peaceful and unmoving. The entire gravel space was decorated with a variety of plants, from sensitive flowers to the ginormous oak tree that stretched out in the middle of the garden that housed all kinds of wildlife. I kept my eyes peeled for the odd one out, in all black hunched over a raised garden bed and nodding his head to the beat of his favorite band.

After pacing around the maze of blood red poppies, trying to navigate the maze of flora as they flowers taunted me with their peacefulness, after coming out the way I came in twice followed by quiet cursing, I would up on the other side of a secondary arch surrounded by hydrangeas. This part of the garden seemed a little better, the hyacinth plants were much shorter and more spread out— and certainly less abusive on the eyes with their soft color. For a moment, it was like I was outside and in the real world like a normal kid.

From where I stood on the gravel, I could hear the faintest sound of guttural grunge music coming from a few flowerbeds away from me. I locked onto where the music was coming from and began to carefully weave through the crowds of flowers that occasionally brushed against my knuckles and sent the contact rippling through each other. After a handful of steps, I saw Kaede kneeling over a garden bed of lilies, mumbling the lyrics to himself. I cautiously reached down to tap his shoulder.

"You're really bad at being quiet." He pulled his earbuds out and turned his head, taking off his gardening gloves to pause his music. "What do you want?" This question caught me off guard. I've never seen him act like this. Sure, he could be curt and rude sometimes, but he's never outwardly been this mean to anyone.

"Is something going on?" I asked, nervously rocking on my heels.

"I'm fine." Kaede quipped, standing up and wiping his hands on his already dirt-stained pants. He'd been moving lilies to the barely damp dirt in a raised garden bed. After he was finished, he weaved over to the yellow hyacinths in a stone lined garden-bed and began to pick out small weeds at the stems of the flowers.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

I sighed and sat down across from him, my back against a tall lattice wall, adorned with small clips that would soon help keep plants' stems in afloat. The sun filtered through the diamond holes in the fence, blurring together on the gravel into one gold cover of light blanketing the ground. I looked up to see Kaede pruning a bush of wilting roses he was trying to revive.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked hesitantly upon seeing his steadfast attitude towards his garden. "Why do you want to be the king of Greenleaf so bad? Before you heard about it, you said that you'd stay in The Dome and The Kingdom as long as you could."

Kaede leaned back and propped himself onto his hands, brushing gravel off of his now rough pebble imprinted hands. "I don't really know. I think it does have something to do with The Dome, and everything." He sat back up. "Not that I don't like it here; I'd just like a change of scenery!" He pointed up to the sky, and the giant glass dome that sheltered the Pudiaguay Castle, it was made the temperature ever so slightly hotter, but the fans on the roof of The Dome helped with that. "And Greenleaf is revolutionizing the way the world sees and manages gardening! They're building vertical gardens almost as tall as the castle with everything the city needs, crossbreeding medicinal plants, they help people!" He grew louder with each word, but not angrier. "And so, do I. If dad finally decides that I can be crowned to any kingdom or city, then I can exchange what I know with the scientists and botanists of Greenleaf City!"

"That makes sense, I guess you can do a lot with stuff like that." I looked up at the sky— rather, The Dome. It was almost twice as tall as the castle and thicker than my outstretched arms. Dad—King Abaddon Loshi—said it was to keep me and my brothers safe from thieves, attackers, or any bitter person jealous of the horrendously rich royals. "I guess the change of scenery makes sense, we only go outside of The Dome to go to school, and even then, we're told to come right back."

"I think it's a little sketchy."

"It's to keep us safe! There can be some weird people around here."

"The only weird people are the rich, rich kids at our rich kid school." The two of us scoffed lightheartedly at that.

"They have high expectations." I added. There was a comfortable silence between me and Kaede. I can still remember the first time I went outside The Dome: It was when I was five. My dad told me to stay at his side, Rio was with us too, but he was too distracted by the sights of the kingdom to pay attention to what was going on; watching the huge, lavish buildings you'd see in a story book and the fancy clothes everyone wore, so I had to keep an iron grip—as strong a grip as a 5-year-old could have— on his wrist to keep him from wandering away. We made a few stops along the smooth concrete road to talk to some regulars he knew, mostly high-class purple skinned Iswian acquaintances, but there were some green folks here and there. At one point at the end of our walk, our dad sat me and Rio down on a bench while he went to talk to three men dressed in the same fancy clothing we'd seen a couple feet away from us, but they wore cloaks over them. They were whispering to each other in a language I couldn't understand, but they kept on snatching glances at Rio and I— who were trying to comprehend and deal with what we now know is a slight breeze— to make sure we didn't wander away, eyes landing on us for less than a few seconds. It was strange, and we only went home after a couple minutes.

I was snapped back to the present when I heard the crunching of gravel as Kaede walked towards the arch leading out of the garden. Confused, I stood up and peeked around the corner of the lattice wall. "Where are you going?" I asked, speedwalking and brushing bits of gravel off of the back of my T-Shirt and shorts, even hopping on one leg for a couple seconds to pull a pebble out of my shoe.

"To go talk to Rio." I snapped my head back up and let out an involuntary noise of confusion, earning a heavy sigh from Kaede.

"To..." I trailed off, a subtle question.

"... Apologize, for what I said earlier." He finished. It wasn't like him to apologize to anyone, even if he really wanted to. It was hard for him to face someone after such an outburst, but hearing him say that brought a smile to my face.

"I think he'd like that."

"You should go check on everyone else. Tell them I'm sorry."

"I might do it later, or maybe never." Kaede turned around at this, it was his turn to be confused with a brow furrowed and dark brown eyes just wide enough to capture the sun. "Did you hit your head on the fence or something?"

"It might do you some good to go tell them yourself." I patted him on the back, earning a few sharp scoffs from him. "I know you can." I encouraged. Kaede sighed and kicked a rock off of the path.

"Alright," He caved. "Can you at least see how they're doing n' stuff? I'll talk to them later." He ran his hands through his black coiled hair. After a couple seconds of silence, the two of us went our separate ways; Kaede to the main castle and me to Obi's Library.

I arrived at the adorned double doors leading into the main corridor of The Library and pulled them open, earning a blast of air conditioning to the face. I peeked through the roof high shelves with the Vario ladders to see if I could find a trace of my brother. I thought I'd have to turn The Library upside down to find Obi, searching through the massive rectangular shaped building with hidden spaces around every corner.

But to my surprise, I found both Obi and Dharma in the main space; Obi high up on a Vario Ladder sifting through a range of colorful books while Dharma looked up at him, nervously telling him to be careful while calling out a small list of book titles for Obi to retrieve. Shortly after I walked in, Obi grabbed another book and tucked it into a messenger bag strapped to his side— which was very obviously Dharma's, based on the way it was sharply decorated with more colorful pins and patches than you could ever imagine. Obi wouldn't be able to keep such a maximalist item without going insane, he preferred to have a "Less is More" mindset that never led with its heart.

"... Ok, next I need The 1924 Edition of Thread and Needle: Professional Designing for Experts!" Dharma called up to Obi, who looked annoyed at his persistent yelling.

"I can hear you just fine! You don't need to yell! Also, if you're an expert on the whole fashion business, then why do you need a book on it? I thought you knew all about this." Obi asked, climbing cautiously higher up on the ladder to grab the book Dharma had requested. After pushing the ladder, a little bit to the left, he grabbed a well-thumbed black book with white splotches of torn paper on the cover and pulled it out slowly so he wouldn't lose his balance. I knew this would be a bad time to make myself known; Obi was pathetically easy to scare, and I knew he'd fall if I broke his concentration.

After a few more suspenseful moments, Obi slid back down the ladder with a practiced deftness I knew he'd rehearsed thousands of times— I didn't want to think about the many times he'd hurt himself trying to do that— and handed Dharma his bag, looking relieved to both be back down on the ground and to have Dharma's bag away from him, brushing the small amounts of chipped paint from an old pin on Dharma's bag off of the side of his shirt.

“I honestly can’t understand why you’d want to ruin such a nice bag with all that stuff.” Obi sighed.

“Thank you!” Dharma sang. “This is why you’re my favorite brother. And I’d assume you of all people would know you can never learn too much about anything.”

I felt awkward spectating their conversation, and even more so since Dharma and Obi weren't the best duo considering their differences in personality and interests. I slowly and silently weaved around the bookshelves until they were in view; Even though Dharma stood only a foot or so taller than Obi, he dwarfed him with his unusually height. But the thing that stood out the most was the contrast in their fashion style; Obi dressed like he was all ready to attend an interview, with neatly ironed polo shirts and dress pants. But it always seemed like he didn't know what to do with his hair, so it was usually either leaving it down in a cloud of long, black curly hair or up in a ponytail that he insisted on doing himself, and never with the help of Dharma.

Dharma on the other hand was a fashionable maximalist who could style anything he got his hands on— including his school uniform— and would pass away before he could allow his looks to fall into a minimalistic category, always sporting runway ready outfits that were never too over the top— excluding the times when he did need to dress up fancy, he was the talk of all the school dances and the guy to go to if you needed fashion advice. It was strange to see them together, they could easily pass as friends instead of brothers.

"I guess you can't learn too much." I said awkwardly, scooting closer to the two. Obi still flinched in surprise, fumbling for a book Dharma wanted and almost dropped it.

"Nnamdi!" Obi snapped with a crack as Dharma let out a quick laugh. "Stop sneaking up on me all the time!"

"But I didn't?"

"He really didn't, you're just a scaredy cat!" Dharma put the books in his bag before adjusting it behind him as he stepped towards me. "Did you, like, need something?"

"Yeah, I wanted to bring a message," I spoke, not knowing what to expect from them. "From Kaede." There was a silence that came down on the room for a couple seconds. Obi's eyes darted about and let out a shallow sigh while Dharma quirked a brow in curiosity.

"About?"

"He says he's sorry, to everyone."

"Did he really?" Obi asked, almost incredulous, busying himself by putting some books he was reading earlier back on the shelf. No one would've expected a sincere apology from him, even if they knew he didn't really know how to apologize.

"Really, he even went to talk to Rio."

"Good for him! Nice to know he's finally coming out of his shell, a very angry one." Dharma commented, realizing how harsh that sounded but deciding to leave it be.

"So, yeah. Kaede is sorry, he might stop by later to tell you in person."

After a few more words of exchange and banter—that mostly involved teasing Obi about how easy he is to scare— I bid my goodbyes and exited the large building, abandoning the cool air of The Library and into the warm glow of the sun again. After adjusting to the jarring change in temperature, I began the walk to Camille's Tower.

[bluenpinkcastle]

20240103: the History of LEGO Castle day 003.

383-2 / 6083-1 Knight's Tournament (1978 / 1981, 201 pieces, 59 different parts)

Knight's Tournament was designed by Daniel August Krentz and was the second of three from LEGOLAND's first Castle theme. The original (383-2) was released in the United Kingdom in 1979 while the United States version was released in 1981 (6083-1).

This is very simple, small build consists of a pavilion for the royalty to watch the two knights on their two brick-built horses participate in a joust. While using the same seven basic colors of black, blue, green, light gray, red, white, and yellow, the Knight's Tournament still has a lot of fun details. The pavilion has a yellow throne against a blue background with a red fence and black supports for a white and red striped roof, all built on a thin green baseplate. Two red flags with either stickers or print with gold-bordering on a red background with a centered triangular shield of dark red, blue, and peach. Both brick-built horses have colorful barding, with the black horse sporting a blue and white checkered pattern and the white horse presenting black and red stripes.

The six minifigures in a Knight's Tournament are the first printed minifigures in LEGOLAND's Castle theme. Minifigures consist of two guards with the tri-color triangular shield pattern on their torso (found only in this set and a Castle Minifigure set 0016-1 from 1979 / 1982); a knight with a black torso, red arms, and a red and yellow quarter checkered pattern on a triangular shield (found only in this set, plus three Castle Minifigure sets 0016-1, 6002-1 from 1983, and 15-1 from 1984), a knight with a blue torso, white arms, and a red and dark red quarter checkered pattern on a triangular shield (found only in this set and a Castle Minifigure set 15-1 from 1984); the tournament prince with a red torso, red arms, and a gold border around the tri-color triangular shield (found ONLY in this set); and the tournament princess with a white torso, white arms, and a gold two string pearl necklace (found in 16 sets between 1979 and 2003).

The prince and princess mentioned in this set are the first examples of gendering in the Castle theme, but even so, the princess wears pants and has bright red hair with a pretty wild look for back then while the prince looks like he's wearing a bib. Additionally, the back of the box build has the most androgynous young human building the Knight's Tournament as can be imagined, which is exactly what LEGO marketing should be.

The "back of the box" builds for Knight's Tournament have a lot of really neat, very different options for different builds with such a small number of parts. Back of the box builds include a beverage stand, a hospital, a prince-bearing litter, a small bridge, a meeting at a well, and a small guard wall. For all that the parts for this are very basic and the builds very simple, these back of the box builds really do an amazing job of showing a minifigure story.

Parts lists for this set can either be found on BrickLink or Rebrickable, while scanned instructions can be found at ToysPeriod. If you want to know more about the designer, Daniel August Krentz, BrickSet did a really nice tribute and has a full list of everything he designed.

[telleroftime]

What's the general consensus on the appearance of Bowser's Castle?

Personally I'm fond of the Mario Kart 8 version of it. The large, dark grey bricks. The huge, steel chains. Banners and emblems everywhere. Just pits of lava scattered randomly with only a metal fence keeping you from falling in. Spikes just present for no reason.

However, I also know that other games depict it differently. The colour palette changes. Some show green roofs that match the appearance of Bowser's shell, others go with the go-to eastern-European style castle roofs.

There's mods for Smash Ultimate that add a Bowser's Castle stage to the game, and even those have a lot of variety. Golden spikes versus silver spikes. Light grey bricks versus black bricks.

And then there's Mario Odyssey. Bowser's Kingdom there is show to have traditional Japanese architecture. There's a lot of plants surrounding the castle. There's golden accents everywhere, from statues to edges lining the walls. The colours follow gold, red, brown, and white. But it's also a style that doesn't match other depictions of his castle.

The Mario Movie makes it look almost chiselled from a mountain instead of built from the ground up. It looks excavated and uniform with an insane amount of lava.

So yeah, I was curious what everyone else thinks.

[bakersstreetirregulars]

ROMANCE KINGDOM! ~SUGAR SWEET DESTINY~

☁️ You found this game in the trash…?

🍓 Yeah… why not give it a try?

☁️ Sure…!

Synopsis

Sugar Sweet Destiny is Cookie Run: Kingdom’s newest April Fool’s Day event for 2023 based on countless PC games about finding love in high school. This post is not exhaustive yet, and it will be updated with time as I- the Editor- play the mode more and more. There will be spoilers for the endings here below the break, as well as a few pointers on how to win their hearts.

In order to start a new game, you need 15 Blooming Hearts. These Hearts will restock over time, and you can always buy more with Crystals, ads, or in packages

The Gifts and Album menus will open after your first playthrough

Clicking the “Minimize” button or desktop bar will minimize the game and show the desktop, and you can return to the game by clicking the icon on the bottom bar or the desktop

The red X button will close the game and take you back to your kingdom

Protagonist: You play the role of the protagonist, in which you name yourself. Choose carefully, that name will appear throughout the current run through the story. You are a reasonably popular student of Kingdom High, Class 1-C, going about your day, when you suddenly find a box of chocolates in your locker! Your choices will determine whether you make your feelings known to your classmates and win their hearts, or fall apart in a blubbering mess trying. How do you make these choices? When multiple blue buttons appear in the middle of the screen, choose one to determine your character’s next action.

If you make a choice that results in a Bad Ending before choosing to express your feelings to someone at the end of Day 5, you can choose to spend 15 more Blooming Hearts to go back to the scene and try again with another option

Your Classmates

🌟 Marcus Madeline: The Student Council President. Comes from a very wealthy family and has an official fan club that spans half the school. VERY popular and makes his fellow classmates freak out when they see him.

🌿 Herbert Hoo: Your longtime childhood friend, and an avid gardener. He’s soft spoken and likes plants, and they seem to like him too. The Gardening Club just had to have him as a member, and he enjoys doing it. Although he enjoys his time being together with you too.

🗡️ Rachel Raspberry: The Star of the Kingdom High Fencing Club, and the Class Rep. A child prodigy in swordsmanship, she defeated a high school student in a fencing competition while she was in middle school. She also fended off multiple bullies from a neighboring high school who didn’t know who she was, and took them all on with just a stick… and WON.

🌊 Serena Faire: A class senior, famous for her otherworldly beauty and quiet nature. The last member of the Astronomy Club, she has her sights set on the moon with genuine feelings and love for it quite frequently during her moon-watching sessions at night. Known for her frequent shutdowns on other students’ attempts to date her. Also known as the Ice Princess for seeming so cold with her perceived ignorance, but actually quite compassionate and kind.

⚔️ Derek DaChoco: The thuggish super-bully, rumored to be the son of a shady corporate bigwig. Doesn’t pick fights, but when he does, he swings a 2x4 (a two-by-four wooden board, most likely) with a raging flurry. Known as the Dark Tornado of Kingdom High. “Public Enemy Number One” of Kingdom High. Rumored to have flunked junior year for a full decade, can make almost everyone quake with fear.

Album

The Album contains memories of every ending and certain moments that take place in the game. Each memory and ending has a picture and a reward associated with it. Get all the Happy Endings to unlock a Special Memory Painting.

Happy Endings

“Looking at You” - Visiting Serena Faire on the roof during her moon-watching sessions, and even showing her how to turn a bowl of dough that looked like the full moon into moon pancakes, you could understand her and her fascination with the moon… and you were the only one who would accept her for it as you would also look up to her. (300 Crystals)

“No. 1 Fan” - Seeing you being hounded by the fans for trying to cut the line to express your feelings without a gift, Marcus Madeline had to tell them to stop and shoved his way through the crowd. It was there when you mustered all your courage to ask him out on a walk by the lake. In front of EVERYONE. In a gasp and shock from the crowd, Marcus was seemingly just as confused as he wanted to give everyone his love. With unanimous approval from his fans, he reached out to you for the way YOU saw him: as himself. In a burst of emotion, the two of you express your true feelings for each other as the fans erupted in thunderous applause and entrusted you with his love. The two of you run off to the lake, smiles all around, hand in hand. Your high school love life is just beginning…! (300 Crystals)

Memories

“Leave me Alone” - Upon uncovering the curtain in the nurse’s office, you find Derek DaChoco in bandages and bad shape and tend to him with fresh bandages after he awakens in front of you. The nurses tried to object, but Derek was alright with it. He even suggested that you should be a doctor! You share a moment as he talks about what his father said about trying not to get other people involved with his own path. (100 Radiant Shards)

“Rooftop Serenade” - Following your friends cautiously through the unlocked door to the rooftop while simultaneously knowing that Serena Faire could be up there, you remain there after they disperse upon seeing nobody- and no ghost- there. You know where she is, and you call for her… and she responds back warmly. She remains there quite often to stare at the moon and feel her worldly concerns and whatever weighs her down melt away. The two of you share a moment in silent tranquility, nobody to witness it except the stars of the night sky. Words cannot express the feelings the two of you shared that night as you comforted each other and held each other’s hands, feeling the stars travel across the sky. (100 Radiant Shards)

“The Great Cream Explosion” - Visiting a classroom with a lot of noise, you find Marcus Madeline and his world-famous madelines being swarmed by his fans and their recommendations for pastry pairings. It’s hard to cook in this, but sprinkles in some whipped cream was enough for the cream to practically explode and cause you to turn into a creamy mess in 3… 2… 1… not. Because Marcus was there to protect you from the brunt of the blast! As the two of you share a moment and embrace before a teacher helps guide everyone with the cleanup process. (100 Radiant Shards)

Bad Endings

“No. 0401 Fan” - Getting rejected by Marcus Madeline in front of his fans in the name of student camaraderie as you tried to express your feelings by week’s end, you soullessly accept the offer to join his fan club from other classmates while collapsing into a crumpled heap in front of everyone. You weren’t the first one either… and you even considered transferring away from Kingdom High. (3 Epic Soul Essences)

“Locked-up Heart” - Leading your classmates to the rooftop door to uncover the truth behind a ghost story of a blue-haired girl on the roof, the door was unfortunately locked. Forget it. Don’t get their hopes up so quickly. It usually leads to disappointing not only them, but also yourself. (100 Rainbow Pearls)

“Disappointment” - After giving the senior bullies from the day before some money to stave them off, your attempt to approach Derek DaChoco was brushed off as he looked away and pretended to not know you. Faith in humanity shattered. Probably shouldn’t have tried to ask Derek about his age, especially the second time around. (5 Arena Tickets)

“Delicious Nonetheless” - Looking for Derek DaChoco during the annual baking day since you talked with him twice, you instead see his handiwork instead: chocolates! It’s unknown whether it was meant to be a dented snowman or a heart, but it was too good to be thrown away. Thinking- no… hoping that someone would show up and ask what you were doing, you kept eating the chocolates Derek made. Nobody came, so you left the room with a satisfied appetite… and a disappointed heart. Perhaps you were too quiet with those chocolates, hm? (30 Topping Pieces)

Gifts

Accessible after experiencing someone’s Happy Ending, you can give your classmates gifts (from your Kingdom inventory) to increase your affection with them. Each person has their favorites and preferences, so looking for context clues is important. Increase their affection high enough, and you’ll get a special Title and even their Profile Picture! Unlock all 5 Happy Endings to interact with Someone Else…❔

[aradiyatoys]

🎉 [NEW PATTERN RELEASE] 🎉 Somewhere in the east of Mini Kingdom 👑 there was a little earthen house 🏠 with a very cute thatched roof. Lovely painted flowers 🌸 adorned the outer walls, and a charming wooden door and a little window pierced the front wall. This house stood on a fresh green lawn, encircled by a very stylish low fence that was not meant to protect but to emphasize the beauty of the house. Cossack Mykola was the greatest wood 🪵 master in Mini Kingdom. That is why all their wooden objects, such as doors, windows, fences and furniture were of the highest quality, as he knew how to make things shine and really long-lasting. He spent most of his days outside, behind his woodworking machine. Right next to him was Lesia, his sweet wife, sitting on a wooden bench and singing lullabies to their newborn Baby Tarasyk. In the backyard, you could easily hear someone running and laughing like crazy! It was Little Melanka, Mykola and Lesia’s elder daughter! She was absolutely in love with butterflies, and ran from flower to flower, following the butterflies 🦋 just to see up close how beautiful they are! It was a perfectly normal day for this Ukrainian Family, when suddenly the sky started to turn gray. The sun hid behind a cloud, and it felt like something scary was about to happen. Mykola looked up and noticed very dark clouds coming from the east. “It’s happening again”, Mykola sadly whispered. He asked Lesia to take Little Melanka and Baby Tarasyk with her and go hide in the basement. Lesia knew that something was wrong, she could see it on Mykola’s face but didn’t dare to ask him about it. When his family was safe, Mykola locked the door of the house from the inside. Suddenly, the sky turned completely dark and a wild hurricane came very close to their house. Mykola started to hear things breaking outside of the house, trees were flying around, the door began to shake and it sounded like someone was trying to break into the house. At some point, it became obvious that the lock would not hold much longer. Mykola quickly ran to the door and started to push it with his shoulder to keep it closed. “Mykola, please come to the basement!”, Lesia shouted. “I will soon, please stay there!”, Mykola replied loudly. The door continued to shake, it felt like it would break any second now! The lock fell off and the door started to slowly open under the pressure of the incredibly powerful hurricane! “I need… to hold on… no matter what!”, Mykola whispered to himself. A few long minutes later, the wind finally slowed down. Mykola did no longer feel the door pushing against him, so he took a step back and opened it. What he saw shocked him: the hurricane had destroyed the fence, damaged the roof of their house and somehow carried away Mykola’s woodworking machine. But also, there was the sun shining on their lawn. Lesia came out of the basement with their children, came closer to Mykola and told him: “Don’t worry, we will rebuild everything!”. Mykola smiled, but he was still very upset. “Hey neighbors! We’re here to help you!”, they suddenly heard behind them. They turned around and noticed that villagers and royals from all over Mini Kingdom were coming to help! The Astromoner, the Joker, the Flower Girl, the Princesses, the Beekeeper, the Farmer Girl, the King and even the Witch! All gathered to help deal with the consequences caused by purely evil forces! The Flower Girl had a very special present for the Ukrainian Family: a Poppy in a pot. It is a symbol of love and peace in Ukraine and she perfectly knew that! Just a few days after the Ukrainian Family’s house was restored, a Stork came to make its nest on their roof. It was a very good sign, peace had finally returned to the Ukrainian Family and that is all they ever wanted, love and peace. Ukrainian Family – the village-themed set of toys from the ‘Mini Kingdom’ collection. This pattern describes how to create the following six toys: Cossack Mykola, Lesia, Little Melanka, Baby Tarasyk, Stork and Poppy. Pattern is available in English, Spanish, French, Italian, Dutch, Polish, Portuguese and Ukrainian here -> https://etsy.me/3jripZi 🤗 This is by far my biggest patter yet, so I want to specially thank amazing girls who tested, proofread and translated it: Celine, Isa, MJ, Gwendoline, Clarissa, Sabrina, Roberta, Magda and Liubov! You all are absolutely amazing, thank you very much, dear friends! 💛💙

[silvabacca]

I’ve read some posts suggesting that Crowley is often thrown out of the dreaming by Morpheus, because he stays there for too long. Sooo after reading about it I immediately started writing it, hope you enjoy!!

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR GOOD OMENS 2, (also no beta we die like every Good Omens fan after season two ;-; )

Morpheus was sitting in the library. Earlier Lucienne gave him some materials that he asked for. After all this mess with the vortex, Corinthian, Desire and a whole mess in a waking world he wanted to only focuse on the matters of the dreaming. He was still in the process of creating new dreams and nightmares, but needed to study a history behind the previouse one, to see where he was making the mistakes that caused him problems.

Completly focused on his reading he didn’t pay any attention to his surroundings. Everyone knew that it was not a good time to disturbe him, so even if someone approached him it must have been a serious matter.

- My lord, - said a voice which belonged to Lucienne - there is a small thing you would like to have a look at.

Morpheus rised his head up, eyes still looking at the pages of the book. After a while he spoke:

- I’m quite busy right now, Lucienne. - He said slowly in a low voice, thought that will do and his librarian will go away and come next time with her problem.

- I can see that, but I think you should really take a look at that.

Dream finally looked her in the eyes. He saw how troubled Lucienne was and decide, that whatever he was doing could wait. He put the book down, on the pile with hundreds of others surrounding him and then he could give his full attention to what his librarian had to say.

- It’s the deamon - she finally spoke, not very delighted at the fact, after a pause she added with a sigh - again.

No more words were needed to be said, the King already knew who it was. He sighed the same as her and got up from his chair. He thanked for the information and decided to go and deal with this problem by himself.

It wasn’t the first time this particular deamon came to his realm. It wouldn’t be a big of a deal, every demon is allowed to dream like any other creature, but this one spend decades in the dreaming. Sometimes even centuries, which was a pain in the ass for Morpheus. Someone could even say that this demon rented a flat in his kingdom.

Which was a half true, expect it was a small cottage on a beautiful field full of flowers which smelled so incredibly. There was also a river, with water crystal clear and forest accros it. The whole scenery, the whole dream was so breathtaking and relaxing to watch, (it was hard to belive that a demon could dream of a place like this).

The house in itself was small, painted white with a black roof. Around it was a garden with every kind of flower known to a human, a swing wide enought for two people to sit which surounded apple trees that gave a cool shade. Everything seemed so peacful and perfect.

Dream was enjoying the view, even he sometimes needed to relax, not really in other demons dreams, but this one was particularly nice. After a while he decided to go through the fence and to go inside the house. Before he could even step in he noticed a curled figure lying on the stairs. It was the deamon that Morpheus knew for eons, but it was a first time he found him in this position. He sighed and decided to come closer and when he was close enought he started speaking.

- Anthony J Crowley, how many times do I must tell you to- Morpheus couldn’t finish the sentance, not after seeing said Crowley crying on the floor. He only managed to whisper oh my, but couldn’t say anything else.

It was a very awkward moment, Dream (who originally came here to kick the demon out) stood there in a complete silence and Crowley who was jest there, crying, sobbing and saying something to himself under the nose. It was so much uncomfortable for Morpheus that he even seriously considered to just go away and let the demon mind his own business.

Then he remembered that his friend told him lately to care more about others, especially people close to him. He wasn’t, in fact, very close with Crowley, non of them would say that they are friends, but it was true that they knew each other for quite some time now. Dream sighed really loudly and looked once more at the miserable demon. Only now Crowley decided to also look in the eyes of the King and just stared at him for a while, expecting for something.

Morpheus said in all his glory and with the most „caring” look on his face that he could manage at the moment:

- Are you unwell, Crowley?

At that demon just frowned and made a really disapointed face, he also sighed, snorted a few times and looked him again in the eyes and said:

- You Endless bastards are soooo bad at this, that it makes it just sad - he snorted again and continued - even more sad than me right now.

Dream found that really amusing, not many creatures dares to insult the Endless and even less does it to their face. He just decided to not bit back at it, because in fact he was terrible at this, so insted he just sat down with Crowley and decided to listen to him.

The demon told him everything that trobuled him, he said what happened with Aziraphale and what was before their parting ways. With each word Crowley started to calm down more, he just needed to let out all his frustration to someone, even if this person was the King of dreams.

Morpheus knew some part of this story already, he didn’t only know the demon, but also the angel, and a thing or two about their adwentures and relationship. Even thou he didn’t hear about the current events, not until now. And the news delivered a heartbroken demon, who was still on the floor.

- Yeah, that would be pretty much everything - Crowlay paused for a moment to sob a little.

- Now I understand why you are acting like this, - said Dream - I’m sorry to hear it, I know how much he ment to you.

Morpheus knew that better than anyone else, he saw that demon’s dreams. He knew for a very long time how much he is in love with the angle. But he couldn’t understand, why they couldn’t be together, Aziraphale also had feelings for Crowley, even if he didn’t fully understand them, he would be happy to hear from Crowley a love confession. „So why they didn’t have their happy ending?” Dream tought.

- Oh yeah, I almost forgot - the demon blurred one last pice of his story - I kissed him, out of desperation of course, but still kissed.

Now all the pieces fallen into their place. Dream looked in disbelive at the man lying on the floor. He placed a hand on his eyes, started to mumble things and slowly started saing:

- Give me a moment Crowley, because I don’t think I understand…

The demon swallowed and started to feel uneasy, how did he anger a King of dreams so much?? The ton of his voice sounded teryffing and furious, yet he wasn’t shouting just slowly saying a word after word.

- You have been in love with this man for more than 6000 years… - he looked demon in the eyes, seeing fear in them wasn’t anything surprising, he continued - and this was the way you decided to tell him your feelings? In the most iapproperiate moment of all the moments you shared and didn’t even wanted to talk things out calmly and peacfully, but insted you came onto him? You didn’t want to hear anything more from his perspective? Didn’t you think, even for a moment, that you two might be misunderstanding each other and only want the best for one another?

There was a moment of silence between them, even the whole dream started to lose it’s peacfulness. Finally Crowlay managed:

- Well, if you put it like that…

Before he could finish the sentance he already woken up, he just got kicked out of he’s own dream, by the Dream of the Endless. He sat up, his heart was still beating like crazy and it took a while for it to calm down. Finally when it was steady he sighed in reliefe, he closed his eyes, looked up and said:

- The thing I have going on with my angle is better than anything you have with your human „friend”, because I never lied to myself that I don’t love my angle and had the guts to confess!!

He slowly opened his one eye to see if the man he just insulted isn’t standing in front of him. When he finally felt enought safe he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

(I don’t that this has a good ending, but it will do)

[jesse-of-jugo]

The Knight and the Rebel

Chapter 1, Part 1

                Sevante took a long, paranoid glance over his shoulder, revealing nothing but the fire-red rocks of the bad country, and the dusty ribbon of road cutting through it. His heart hung tight in his chest, ready to leap into his throat at the first glimpse of fluttering crimson, the faintest scent of gunpowder on the wind, but no such omen came. He turned his eyes forward again, kicking his heel to hasten his horse.

                It was a bad day for travel. The clouds seemed more solid than the land, clumping into mountains of slate grey and onyx black, threatening rain. Where the sun managed to pierce the clouds, it did so only weakly, in pallid rays which died halfway between the sky and the earth. The air was far too warm. In the tail end of autumn, this warmth spoke of lightning and wind and nights huddled by a feeble fire in some dead woods.

                Off in the western distance, beyond the miles of canyonland and shrubs and gulleys where inhuman things stalked, the sylvan foothills of the mountain range beyond peeked beneath the clouds, the snowbound lands above just barely visible and blending with the sky. Every day that snow was drawn further and further down the mountains. Sevante feared that soon it would cover the passes and cut his journey short.

                He shook the thoughts away as if they were water caught in his ears. That kind of worrying was like a bitter root. If it was allowed, it would grow through the soul and bind it in a tightening knot of anxiety. That kind of worrying could kill a man. It was beyond useless. Sevante would reach the passes in time, and, even if not, this was far from his first plan. After his escape from Highcastle, he had tried to flee first to the east, then to the north, blocked by catastrophic floods that scraped entire kingdoms off the earth in the first direction, then by wildfires in the other, fires that flickered far too lazily and held the faces of malfae within them. Even pursued as he was, he had managed to reroute and evade capture both times, if only barely. If he had to do it again, so be it.

                And yet…

                It is taken as law among the wisest of men that you can only be lucky so many times, and by the wisest *living* men not to push that luck. Roll your dice enough and sooner or later snake eyes will stare back at you, and life had a way of pulling that stunt right when you’ve gone all-in. It was one of those jokes that only the teller finds funny, god’s favorite kind.

                Sevante couldn’t help but hear the clattering of dice in every clip-clop of his horse’s hooves. Sooner or later he would have to throw them again.

                The first peal of the night’s thunder sounded off in the distance, heralded by the faintest flash of lightning. Sevante was just beginning to think about when he would call it a day and duck into one of the canyons for the night, when he rounded a corner in the trail, and was greeted by the welcome sight of a jelly cabbage field, recently harvested and surrounded by a well-kept fence. A barn and house, both with windows shuttered against the building storm, lazed just beyond the field like old friends. With any luck, their inhabitants would be the sort of people to let a stranger shelter under their roof for the night.

                Sevante urged his horse toward the homestead, and rolled the dice.

[queerworldtravelers]

Palermo, Sicily - Part 2

38°07'55" N, 13°20'8" E

“We live on second times. First times are for hasty and urgent people. For those who are surprised when the clock chimes and don’t realize that, on the contrary, wonder lies in repetition, time and again, in choosing for the second time the first time.” - Antonella Salamone

Set your pulse on fire:

As the days passed we were able to see deeper into the layers of the city. Space opened up for us to reflect and ponder what questions to ask. We ventured into corners and alleys taking the time to say hello and to connect in meaningful ways to the people of Palermo, or Palermitani. We also ate a billion more oranges and we may never be able to go anywhere else simply for the quality of the citrus present here. We also ate almost all of the street food. 

Several sources name the Palermo Botanical Garden, or Orto Botanico di Palermo, as the most beautiful in the world. We are avid botanical garden visitors and we have to agree. The space is a welcome break from the constant buzz of Palermo traffic. There is an antiquity surrounding all of the plant specimens in a patina that is like nowhere else. The ground below the cactuses is blanketed in what other gardens may call weeds. Spent oranges are everywhere. Just over the garden wall the rusty skeletons of the neighboring gas plant peek through the trees. The garden, much like Palermo itself, isn’t pretentious. In that modesty it is a stunning respite from perfection. A reaffirming lesson that we are all incredibly beautiful just as we are: weeds and all.

According to a Wikipedia article with no sources there are 106 churches in Palermo. We venture to guess that number is about right. On a rainy day we visited two of them. Chiesa di San Cataldo is a part of the Arab-Norman Palermo, a string of UNESCO World Heritage sites. The structure dates to the era of the Norman kingdom of Sicily, built in 1154, and serves as an outstanding example of a socio-cultural syncretism between Western, Islamic, and Byzantine cultures. Today you'll have to pay a separate fee at each church to get in, but they'll give you a discount if you visit them all. Admittedly it is outstanding to see the confluence of cultures. The craftsmanship and preservation, in spite of extensive damage of WWII bombings, has us in deep gratitude for every historian and archeologist committed to preserving relics of the past for future lessons. From what we have observed, Palermo is a city of tolerance and has quite a bit to share with the rest of the world. 

Sicily is the largest island in the Mediterranean and has been a strategic location for trade routes making the history here pretty epic. We wandered into the Salinas Regional Archeological Museum after strolling past the sito archeologico domus Romana, Roman ruins encapsulated in a worn iron fence with a faded sign indicating that the ancient mosaics from the floor could be found across town. We arenʻt really sure if we ever found the mosaics, but we did find piles of history. The museum has so many columns they are stacked up in the courtyard! Key takeaways: the Romans wandered around with curses scrolled on sheets of lead in their pocket (that’ll teach you for being mean to other people); Khaled Mohamad al-Asaad was a renowned archeologist in Syria and was publicly beheaded by the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria in 2015 at the age of 83; and that it would take a lifetime to truly grasp the history of this place.  

Top secret: the best cannolis in Palermo are made by the nuns in a little shop called I Segreti del Chiostro in the Chiesa di Santa Caterina d'Alessandria. If you wander in close to sunset you just might get the courtyard to yourself and then you can pay €5 each (they won’t give you a discount from the other churches) to go to the roof. The trek up is a spine-chilling wander through the back halls of a very old church. Venturing to the top at sunset was possibly the most centering experience during our time in Palermo. From a few stories up the city is radiant and glimmers in the setting sun. Surrounded by the tolling of at least ten different church bells we embraced the opportunity to support the teenage security guard’s make out session with her boyfriend after they told us we had to leave in Italian. We all agreed that none of us understood so we could all stay just a little bit longer. 

The UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity includes many interesting things, and specific to our adventure Sicilian puppetry. We attempted to catch a show, but seemed to keep just missing them so we adventured to the museum to surround ourselves with hundreds of puppets. While standing amidst the suspended animation of many creatures Mary asked “do you think puppets have spirits?” Yikes! 

We know our time in Palermo is not over by any means. We will certainly return. The city is filled with incredible art, epic food, and a historic undercurrent that is impossible to ignore. Our next stop is Santa Flavia and the Bagheria area. Home to all of Krystal’s Sicilian ancestors.

“But you don't come to Palermo to stay in minimalist hotels and eat avocado toast; you come to Palermo to be in Palermo, to drink espressos as dark and thick as crude oil, to eat tangles of toothsome spaghetti bathed in buttery sea urchins, to wander the streets at night, feeling perfectly charmed on one block, slightly concerned on the next. To get lost. After a few days, you learn to turn down one street because it smells like jasmine and honeysuckle in the morning; you learn to avoid another street because in the heat of the afternoon the air is thick with the suggestion of swordfish three days past its prime.” ― Matt Goulding

FEBRUARY 7, 2023

[swldx]

12095Khz 0358 23 MAR 2023 - BBC (UNITED KINGDOM) in ENGLISH from TALATA VOLONONDRY. SINPO = 55445. English, dead carrier s/on @0358z then ID@0359z pips and "The Real Story" preview. @0401z World News anchored by male announcer. At least 60 people have been killed after gunmen attacked a packed concert venue on the outskirts of Moscow. More than 100 were wounded at the Crocus City Hall, according to the FSB Federal Security Service. The US says an Islamic State group claim of responsibility is credible. Russia has not commented. Dramatic video shows panicked concertgoers taking cover as shots and explosions ring out. A large fire engulfed the roof of the complex and Russia's national guard is searching for the gunmen. The White House says it is working to find out more about the situation and Ukraine has denied any involvement in the attack. Reports from Bolivia that the government has established a indefinite curfew for purposes of census taking. All citizens told to stay home until government agents bring and fill out a legnthy questionnaire. Hong Kong has passed a new security law that the government says is necessary for stability, but raises fears that civil liberties will be further eroded. The law, called Article 23, covers treason, sedition and state secrets, and allows for trials to be held behind closed doors. The city's leader John Lee says he will sign Article 23 into law on 23 March. Israeli restrictions on the entry of humanitarian aid into Gaza may amount to the war crime of deliberate starvation, the UN has said, as the White House called for unimpeded access for aid to the coastal strip. Amid mounting and catastrophic hunger in parts of Gaza, and official UN figures for hunger levels which are the worst seen under the current classification system, the Biden administration added it was “deeply concerned” following a report about potential famine. A partial US government shutdown appears to have been averted as the US Senate reached an agreement on a funding package ahead of a midnight deadline. U.S. forces conducted self-defense strikes against three Houthi underground weapons storage facilities in Houthi-controlled areas of Yemen, U.S. Central Command said on Friday. The strikes targeted capabilities used by the Houthis to threaten and attack naval and merchant vessels in the region. Arrests in Guatemala for attempted instigation of a coup. Tourists and scientists witnessed a pod of Sperm whales blast a "big dark bubble" of excitement to prevent an impending orca attack off the southern coast of Western Australia. @0406z "The Real Story" begins, about recent problems with Boeing planes. Backyard fence antenna w/MFJ-1020C active antenna (used as a preamplifier/preselector), Etón e1XM. 250kW, beamAz 315°, bearing 63°. Received at Plymouth, MN, United States, 15359KM from transmitter at Talata Volonondry. Local time: 2258.

[jusxxi]

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[bluenpinkcastle]

20240711: the History of LEGO Castle day 193. 10223 Kingdoms Joust (2012, 1575 pieces, 157 different parts) Kingdoms Joust is a jousting tournament set based in the red and white of the lion kingdom. A light bluish gray castle entrance with two towers on either side of a large entryway with red sloped roofs sits behind a reddish brown stand with a red and white roof with the reddish brown jousting fence build on green plates separating the red and white lion knight from the black silver and black falcon knight. One side of the entryway tower has a small reddish brown stand while the other has a sand blue and reddish brown small building on the second floor. Armor stands for the black knight is mostly dark green with black highlights and the lion knight stand is mostly red with white highlights. There are nine minifigures in this set. Parts inventory for this set can be found on BrickLink or Rebrickable and a free download of the instructions is available under the "instructions" tab on Rebrickable.

[heaunova]

Cædmon’s hymn (mid-7th century)

(Translated from the Old English by Harvey Shapiro, 2011.)

Guardian of heaven whom we come to praise

who mapped creation in His thought's sinews

Glory-Father who worked out each wonder

began with broad earth a gift for His children

first roofed it with heaven the Holy Shaper

established it forever as in the beginning

called it middle kingdom fenced it with angels

created a habitation for man to praise His splendor

Original -

Nū scylun hergan hefaenrīcaes Uard,

metudæs maecti end his mōdgidanc,

uerc Uuldurfadur, suē hē uundra gihuaes,

ēci dryctin ōr āstelidæ

hē ǣrist scōp aelda barnum

heben til hrōfe, hāleg scepen.

Thā middungeard moncynnæs Uard,

eci Dryctin, æfter tīadæ

fīrum foldu, Frēa allmectig

[thegenealogy]

1 Chronicles 7: 14-19. "The Blue Beam."

Manasseh "The Troubles in My Father's House...Forgotten."

The Gematria for Manasseh "what evaporates and goes up" is a blue beam. Beams are used to support the roof, the color blue signifies the wide open mind in the sky; to clear the mind and render it the color of blue so it can support the understanding of heaven God wants us to have is to perform what is called Manasseh.

14 The descendants of Manasseh:

Asriel was his descendant through his Aramean concubine. She gave birth to Makir the father of Gilead. 15 Makir took a wife from among the Huppites and Shuppites. His sister’s name was Maakah.

Asriel =

אסר

The verb אסר ('asar) means to bind or tie up. Nouns אסור ('esur), אסר ('issar), מסרת (masoret) and מוסר (moser) all mean bond or band. Noun אסיר ('asir) describes a prisoner (a bound one) and the similar noun אסיר ('assir) refers to a group of prisoners or their joined bond.

Verb מסר (masar) means to bind in the sense of to incriminate or to attach a charge, mission or misdeed to a person. As such it may be used to mean to deliver up or offer.

+

רום

The verb רום (rum) means to be high or high up in either a physical, social or even attitudinal sense, and may also refer to the apex in a natural process.

Asriel plus an Aramean Concubine=

A vow to be high via a concubine = a skill one acquires outside the ones that come naturally. This satisfies the terminology we have just unearthed.

The Torah forbids adultery but allows concubinism; this paradox is surely the cause of a lot of trouble unless it is viewed in Kabbalistic terms.

Makir= to know

Gilead=the perpetual fountain of Testimony

Huppites= "protect with the secrets"

חפף

The verb חפף (hapap) means to surround, cover and protect. Noun חוף (hop) means shore or coast and noun חפה (huppa) means canopy. Adjective חף (hap) refers to one's mental order and stability.

Verb חפה (hapa) means to cover or overlay with a protective layer of sorts, and verb חפא (hapa') means to do covertly or secretly.

Shuppites=

ספף

Root ספף (sapap) has to do with creating, marking or temporarily reaching through the border between two essentially distinct realms that nevertheless have a common origin; this border circles around the smaller of the two so that this smaller realm sits within the larger. It's the verb that describes any such formation from the palisade around a tribal territory to the fence around a single house, the skin of a person or even the cellular wall of a eukaryote.

Maakah=oppression

Another descendant was named Zelophehad, who had only daughters.

16 Makir’s wife Maakah gave birth to a son and named him Peresh. His brother was named Sheresh, and his sons were Ulam and Rakem.

Peresh=

פרס  פרש

The roots פרס (paras) and פרש (paras) most basically speak of a sudden bursting forth in a wide spray of elements of something that was previously well concealed.

Sheresh= the root

Ulam= "A leader who has it all".

ελαια

The noun ελαια (elaia) means olive and refers to both the fruit and the whole tree. It may be akin the verb ελαυνω (elauno), to impel or urge on, and ultimately to the Latin word elate, from which we get our adjective "elated."

Rakem=to give or have mercy

17 The son of Ulam:

Bedan= son of judgement

These were the sons of Gilead son of Makir, the son of Manasseh. 18 His sister Hammoleketh gave birth to Ishhod, Abiezer and Mahlah.

Hammoleketh=

מלך

The noun מלך (melek) means king, and a king is not merely a glorified tribal chief but the alpha of a complex, stratified society, implying a court and a complex government.

The Bible insists that a society must be governed by a triad of anointed sovereigns, namely prophets, priests and the king. A good king causes his people to be prosperous and peaceful whereas a bad one causes poverty and strife. The difference between the two is dictated by how close to the Law of Nature (a.k.a. the Word of God) the king operates. A kingdom that is wholly in tune with the Law consists of only sovereign individuals and is thus without a physical king.

Ishhod= man of majesty

Abiezer=That social fatherhood was the defining quality of the community's alpha male, the one around whom all economy revolved and from whom emanated all instructions by which the 'sons' (בן, ben) operated.

Mahlah=to pierce and vent that which was diseased or profaned

19 The sons of Shemida were:

Shemida=

the שם (shem)-part of our name refers to the whole of creation (i.e. the whole of the deeds of the Creator), and that our name Shemida means Knowing The Name, or Having Knowledge Of The Whole Of Creation.

Ahian, Shechem, Likhi and Aniam.

Ahian=brotherhood

אח

The noun אח ('ah) means brother, or more broadly: a fellow member of a social economic node (a "house") within a broader economic whole.

Shechem=voluntary responsibility

Likhi=learned

Aniam=

אנה

Verb אנה ('ana I) appears to mean to mourn, or perhaps rather: to convey laments according to some situation and upon some receiving audience. Nouns אניה ('aniya) and תאניה (ta'aniya) both mean mourning.

Identical verb אנה ('ana II) appears to mean to convey goods between far away markets. Noun אניה ('oniya) means ship and noun אני ('oni) means fleet.

Identical verb אנה ('ana III) means to be opportune or to encounter opportunely. Nouns תאנה (ta'ana) and תאנה (to'ana) mean occasion or opportune moment.

"The skills that come from the Testimony Fountain help the delusions of the ego born in the garden, the father's house to evaporate, to become forgotten...outside the protected walls of the ego, the Kingdom rife with the qualities contained in this genealogy will convey what makes mankind majestic, interesting, and attuned with its responsibilities.

The process entails radial learning between God and man, the fountain and the riverbed, the fathers and sons, the sons the "greater economic whole".

As the secrets of God are revealed, the ignorance is pierced and evaporates into the sky, unveiling the elements that were previously concealed.

To Concubine with God, the Most High, the Blue Beam, and learn all that can be known is to wear the crown and be the king."

The results of our Midrash, this investigation into the Hebrew underpinnings of civilized man depend on our ability to let go of the past and transubstantiate all that God has written down for our benefit into a non-plural reality that benefits all life on earth.

The Tanakh says these things are secret, but are inborn. They need the presence of enlightened persons "Kings, courts and sovereign individuals", one after another, age after age, to come to the surface in each of us.

If even just one person in an era realizes the nature of these Divine Glories, and there is proof of his Audience, then all of mankind will have the opportunity to achieve the heights of salvation. This is the Torah Tantra of the Tribe of Manasseh.