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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

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Do you have any hcs for Magnus taking ppl to pride for the first time? I kinda feel like he’d act as a guide for others, making sure everyone feels safe and happy during their first time. Like, I can picture him bringing daylighter Raphael out for the first time, showing Meliorn around (bc even though they’ve been around for a while, the Seelies don’t really do human stuff) and holding Alec’s hand while he looks around in amazement.

well surprise surprise this got very long. bet y’all never saw that coming

ok so i particularly love this ask because like, the idea of meliorn going to pride for the first time is a riot and i adore it

like seelie society has developed completely independently from mundane society in every way, hell, it existed before humans did. so there's absolutely no reason whatsoever to believe that their culture even has the concepts of gender of sexuality, and believing that it would be the same as modern western ones is just straight up anachronistic tbh

so like personally i hc that seelie society has no gender (and therefore no concept of sexuality in the way that we see it), so the idea of pride- doesn't even make sense to them, cuz there's no concept of these identities, much less a history of oppression that would bring forward the need to celebrate their resistance like there currently is

so meliorn would want to go just to like, see what that's like and what's it all about. and the whole time they're just following Magnus around and like, taking notes. hm, interesting, what is this trans thing again? ah yes, people who dont think their personality matches the one mundanes believe would be brought by their genitals. hm. fascinating. and Magnus is just like, laughing loudly and it's the best pride he's ever been to, because he knows how ridiculous queerphobia and cishetnormativity are, but meliorn can make that so clear in their words in a way thats just, like, fantastic to hear, you know? and they dont even mean to, but it's great all the same

plus meliorn actually does feel good because a lot of people look at them and smile broadly or even wave, especially younger people who are just like, in awe of them and Magnus, who are so unapologetically gnc and indisputably beautiful, and looking at them is just like, inspiring, you know? and Meliorn has never felt this admired and appreciated and they dont even fully understand why, they're just walking around in their usual clothing and leaf makeup and everyone is just like, in love with them. and it's nice. they can tell there's an edge of sadness to the whole thing, like how their normal everyday existence seems to be so shocking and refreshing for these people, but mostly they feel good about it

later they bring their findings to the other seelies - you know, the ones who dont usually leave the realm and are way less familiar with mundane culture(s) than they are - and the others are like. shut up. there's no way this is real. the shape of their genital defines what wavelength they are supposed to find appealing? this makes no sense. and meliorn's like "idk what to tell u buddy i literally physically can't lie" and they're like surely this is an elaborate prank

but anyway it's fun and nice and they enjoy it greatly and ask Magnus a lot of questions, and Magnus loves going with them more than anyone else because its just so fun and the way this is completely unnatural to them feels refreshing - Magnus doesnt have to explain why he feels the way he feels, for once, but rather he has to explain why people dont get that, and thats a good change tbh

okay onto other ppl im sorry for this tangent djdndjdndk RAPHAEL YES. god i just. okay i love the mental image of Magnus taking Raphael to pride aaaaaaaa

like okay first of all so many layeRS to make this emotional, okay. the fact that he's now a daylighter and can enjoy being out in the sun, the fact that this is a bright costumed parade and it kinda reminds him of the día de los muertos parade and makes him feel at home, the fact that he gets to celebrate and meet other ace ppl - just, so many good things going on here dundidmdi

and Raphael was kinda unsure about going because 1- pride can get pretty sexual at times, and while he gets it and doesn't mind other people's business, he doesn't want to be hit on or participate in that; 2- big crowd makes senses go craycray and it can get very overwhelming and he's scared of overload, plus it's just not his scene in general with huge parties and such. but a part of him does want to go and he's torn, so of course Magnus is immediately like "oh dear, don't worry, i can take you, i'll make sure it's good" and Raphael is like okay

so Magnus takes him and it's :') nice, because as always he’s just so attentive. disclosure i’ve only ever been to the São Paulo pride so i’m gonna go with how it works in here but im assuming it’s not that different in like, other places. also São Paulo currently has the biggest pride parade in the world along with NYC so you know, i think it’s influential at the very least

anyway so he finds a section that’s led by ace pride groups, one that’s considerably small (in number of ppl) and spacious, and it’s. nice. very nice. magnus makes it a point to paint the ace pride colors on raphael’s face (we deserve raphael in makeup tbh) and raphael is all like “it’s fine, it’s not like i’ll want to draw a lot of attention” (like he isn’t wearing the ace flag colors already) and magnus is like hush, let me have this, i want my boy to have a good pride experience. so raphael lets him and hides his smile and lets him, and it’s. cute okay

also idk why but i have the mental image of raphael seeing some other latino guy with some sign like. “i’m not your fetish” or something of the sort, and kind of tearing up because his whole life he’s been seen as this kind of sexual fantasy that couldn’t not be about sex, much less not be interested in it, and he feels seen. and it’s nice, okay

and as promised it’s not too overwhelming in matters of like people, tactile issues and such (there’s little magnus can do about the noise other than spell raphael to decrease his sensitivity so he doesn’t get overwhelmed, which is not ideal because it makes communication a bit harder between them, but he does it anyway if raphael asks him to), and if raphael gets tired, they can always turn into a corner and take a portal back home and cuddle the post-crowd jitteriness away. so it’s a success. and raphael hugs magnus later and thanks him and says that it was so great, that he’s missed this, the energy and the colors and the sun, and he never thought he’d get to have it again, and he did thanks to magnus. and magnus hugs him back and tells him “anything for you, my boy,” and it’s the sweetest thing okay im emo

also okay this still falls under Raphael and Meliorn but the POLYCULE okay, or at least saiaphaeliorn. like sign me the fuck up for the 4 of them together at pride, meliorn and magnus helping make some cute pride-themed makeup on the other 3, just aaaaaaaaa. maia looking absolutely gorgeous with her face framed in the bright bi colors, maybe a sunny dress with the trans flag colors? just because i think she’d look so cute in like, a mostly white dress with baby pink and blue details, okay. simon just paints the pan flag on his cheek but it’s still vibrant and cute and it suits him. and ghhghghghg meliorn delicately painting raphael’s face with colorful glitter..... effervescent, okay. just beautiful

and they get to hold hands in public and laugh and crack jokes and simon loves the music and the festival and raphael smiles fondly at him and maia singing along (him and meliorn definitely don’t know what the fuck they’re singing, but it’s okay because they’re clearly happy and that makes the two of them happy too) and just duahsdiahdaiuha soft okay. also they all get to experience meliorn’s takes on the whole thing and it’s fantastic and as usual meliorn gets raphael to laugh until he almost cries, and simon smiles brightly at the sight and gives meliorn a peck for their efforts, and just aaaaaaaa

in short they’re SOFT and i’m SOFT. and look yes i know that usually parades esp big ones are super crowded (lord knows the SP pride parade is an experience) but if in SP with 5 million ppl parading i could find sections with less people where you had enough space to walk holding hands and hear each other and not be overwhelmed, then i’m sure they can too, especially with magic and powers at their disposal. so i’m going to have this

also like. as much fun as this is for magnus (and it definitely is, it’s very nice to get to enjoy to be himself openly, and to bring kids there for their first time, and you know), it’s also bittersweet because like. he was there at stonewall, he was there for the first pride, you know? and apart from the obvious part where he lost so many friends who were there, there’s just. the very bad memories of the riots, because as important as they are and as much as he obviously doesn’t regret them, riots are hard, they are the language of the oppressed. he’s had to magically protect people from being shot by the police, he’s had to withstand trial by the Clave for using magic to shield the people from the tear gas and risking being seen, he’s had to save a lot of lives and he’s failed at it sometimes, too (i’ll always hc that he’s the reason neither Marsha nor Sylvia died during the riots and you can pry that away from my cold, dead hands). and he’s also seen it be whitewashed and lose some of its resistance and meaning, he’s seen Sylvia be booed at a later march when she spoke against imprisonment, and he’s seen so much be lost

and in that sense going to pride with alec later on might be his favorite, because it’s not like, a first time where he’s trying to get everyone to have the most fun they can and shit, you know? plus alec loves watching more than he does participating, he feels way too exposed in the crowded streets with so many openings and whatnot. but watching from a rooftop, where he has the best view, can still hear the sounds and enjoy the colors and the beauty of it from a distance? that’s perfect for him, and it’s a different experience

and magnus sits by his side as they watch, hand in hand, and reminisces about everything that he’s experienced after so many years, all the changes he’s seen, how he feels pride but he also feels loss and he feels old, and he fears what happens if pride’s history is forgotten, you know? and alec listens to him, listens to his version of this story, playing with magnus’ fingers and just enjoying the sound of his voice and the sight. and it’s nice. alec is always super attentive and enjoys hearing him talk and magnus can get lost in his memories unapologetically, you know? and it’s good

but that’s later on, of course, when they’ve already attended plenty together. for alec’s first pride he probably wants it to be like, perfect, so much so that alec has to tell him to slow down again, because of course magnus wants alec to have The Full Pride Experience, but alec would rather soak it up slowly than participate in a lot of stuff, anyway. magnus paints the rainbow flag on his cheek (one of the only occasions alec lets magnus put glitter on him, then promptly complains for the next three months because i swear that stuff is still on my skin, magnus, the other day i found some on my shoes! and magnus laughs at his antics as always and alec is forced to laugh too and can’t even be mad) and they kind of stay more by the end, and alec is kind of smiling in disbelief to himself the whole time as he watches all the colors and the unapologetic way people express their pride, and magnus can’t stop looking at him and grinning, too. and they walk hand in hand and it’s cute

(later, magnus says, see, mundane culture isn’t so bad, is it? and alec looks at him with a way more serious look, full of joy and happiness, and says, no, it isn’t. and kisses him and thanks him for everything, and it’s sweet)

also I'm soft thinking about Magnus reminiscing about planning the first pride along with "his dear friend Brenda" to Alec and/or Raphael, them putting their arms around his shoulder as he tells them the softer stories, too, the good things they did

small bonus: Magnus plays 2 truths and a lie with Simon regarding his memories of past prides, and Simon gets it wrong every time and is all wide eyed by the end, which makes both Magnus and Raphael laugh :)

#ask #anonymous #sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #malec #The Polycule™#saiaphaeliorn #simon lewis #maia roberts #raphael santiago #meliorn #alec lightwood #brotp: i'll do whatever it takes to protect them

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seekingseven · 4 years ago

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The Most Sincere Kind of Lie (Ch3)

Chapter 3 of my Linked Universe fanfic! Also available to read here on AO3 :D

┍━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┑

The pink pads of Legend’s fingertips reverently brushed the mirror’s handle, running themselves over the tiny engravings and elegant handiwork. Under the sparse moonlight he could barely make out the ridges and bumps of carefully-etched Sheikah symbols on the mirror's rim. The Sheikah magic in the Lens of Truth must have been very strong, then, for it to persist even during fusion. Even now, he could feel the lens' dark magic intermingling with the cascade of light magic the Magic Mirror had always contained. But the enchanted aura of this artifact was much less stable than either of its constituents: intense, dark, and almost uncouthly passionate. While the Lens of Truth had a certain, smug mysteriousness about it, and the Magic Mirror had a quiet, enigmatic confidence, this artifact...

This was something entirely different.

His hands hovered over the mirror's surface and his own pale, angular face stared back at him. With a start, he noticed the delicate web of capillaries that pulsed against his sclera and the split, dirty ends of his bangs -- he needed a good nap and a good shower more than anything else right now.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen. Not when Hylia had decided to pity his ravaging, insatiable curiosity by giving it something to feast off of. Legend turned the mirror over in his hand, wondering what exactly this...thing...could do. It didn't have a name, not that he could tell, and when the realization dawned on him that he got to name it himself, he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Well, it would be easier to name the artifact once he knew what it did. He was no fan of obscure, enigmatic names as the other heros were, so it shouldn’t be difficult. Time could keep his "Golden Gauntlets" and "Lens of Truth." To Legend, simple names like "Magic Mirror" and "Magic Cape" were far superior. The veteran flipped the artifact back over. The mirror’s glass was an odd, shimmering shade of gold, almost like it had been coated by liquid yellow diamonds before placement into the rim. The longer Legend stared at it, the brighter it got.

Perhaps it was a portal? What was it that the Wise Man had said earlier, about what the hypothetical-turned-real artifact could do? Something about a dimension between dimensions. He nodded to himself. It would make sense, this artifact seemed hungry enough to bend space and time itself.

For a second, Legend wondered if it was actually a good idea to be fiddling around with this thing. He instantly brushed the thought away.

He'd been messing with reality, space, time, and the fate of a kingdom his entire life. This would be nothing for the Hero of Legend.

Really, what's the worst that could happen?

Legend stared at the mirror's golden glass with redoubled intensity. This always worked with the Magic Mirror; just looking into it long enough would be enough to suck him into the Dark World. That didn't seem to be the case with whatever-this-was. And it couldn't have the same functionality as the Lens of Truth, if only for the simple reason that it wasn't a lens. Legend settled backwards on the cushions. He flinched as Hyrule muttered softly in his sleep and shifted closer towards him, reaching out a callused hand for the frayed corner of Legend’s tunic.

The veteran hero subconsciously flicked the hand away and got to his feet. Perhaps if the Wise Man was still awake they could figure this out together. Eyes still trained on the mystery mirror, Legend began to pick his way across the room. The moonlight was bright enough to ensure he wasn’t stumbling around blindly, but too dim to give him any confidence that he wouldn’t trip over a stray bag or bedpost.

He gave the mirror a half-hearted, throwaway glance.

His eyelids opened so wide that the muscles underneath them strained.

The mirror's glass was no longer golden, instead, it was a dull, obsidian black. The metal around it boiled with magic and shook temperamentally under his grasp: insistent, demanding, impatient.

Blue eyes flitted around the silent room, trying to find the source of the disturbance. Something had provoked the mirror's tantrum. There was no competing magical aura in the room, aside from the petulant shivering and hissing of the artifact in his hands, so it couldn’t be that. And there weren’t any monsters nearby -- Hyrule had assured them that Ganon’s lackeys never traveled this close to civilization. His eyebrows cinched as his chin fell to his chest. What could it be? He let the artifact drop to his side.

He nearly screamed when the metal flared and burned his skin.

It wanted something.

Whatever this thing was, it wanted something, and it wanted it NOW.

The smell of charred flesh filled Legend's nostrils. He pointedly ignored the melted strings of his skin clinging to the metal, thankful for his incredibly high pain tolerance, and looked around for an object he'd never seen. What did this thing want? What did it--

His eyes alighted on Wind's sleeping form. The artifact in his hand cooled in recognition of his epiphany, almost as if to apologize for its earlier outburst, and all but pulled Legend towards the sleeping boy. Legend crouched down to get a closer look. A halo of bright hair swept across the flat bridge of Wind's nose and cheeks, fluttering in the rouge breeze. The undersides of his fingernails were still crusted with the retributionary cream he'd smeared on Hyrule earlier that night, and a sweet, content smile tickled the pale skin of his lips.

Legend's soul revolted within himself.

He would rather have his entire arm burned off than sacrifice a child to...whatever this was.

A rusty voice spoke up in the back of his mind and cut off his thoughts.

"Do you wish to see this Hero through his own eyes?”

The artifact. It had almost the same reverberating voice as the Master Sword, albeit cracked and somber from millenia of disuse.

He said nothing. He thought nothing. The artifact repeated its question.

“Do you wish to see this Hero through his own eyes?”

Oh.

The mirror didn’t want to hurt Wind. The mirror didn’t want to hurt anyone. It just wanted to show Legend a vision of each hero ‘ through their own eyes.’ Legend's eyes widened greedily. A thousand questions effervesced to the tip of his tongue. He bit them back. Magical artifacts weren't known for their straightforwardness or conversationality, and besides, he was growing impatient.

The artifact asked its question for the third time.

Legend nodded.

The world turned white. The ground beneath his feet tore itself away, and the terrifying lightnessness that came with nighttime terrors of falling shook his entire body. Reality spun and spilled around him, sloughing away in brilliant, iridescent shards as his consciousness was ripped away and ejected into another dimension.

He woke up in a room with no sound and no light and no air. The only thing he knew was that he was choking, he was drowning, that the darkness had forced its way up his nostrils and into the back of his mouth. Tastebuds he didn't know he had revolted at the bitter taste of ash, and he coughed pathetically. Slowly, he got to his feet, almost smiling at the sight of his bare feet and the brown, itchy cloth of his pajama pants beneath him. The mirror had been kind enough to let him keep not only his consciousness, but body as well.

In most situations, that was a good thing.

He decided he would interpret it as such.

Legend's legs started moving, towards what and for what neither him nor his appendages could fathom. The black eventually melted into blue; the crisp, clean smell of sea and salt and sand carried on a breeze of unknown and unknowable origin. With nothing else to do, the hero kept walking, marveling as the world took form around him. The ground beneath him became water -- water he walked on as if he was a son of a goddess -- and a distant, sandy hill came into view. A tall silhouette stood on the hill's highest crest, face and form indecipherable from the distance between them.

High, shrill notes of a pan flute floated by Legend's pointed ears. They were cheerful and lilting, accompanied by the rapid bristle of a guitar, and melted in the airless atmosphere as soon as they were born. The figure in distance finally came into view as the music and lapping waves reached a crescendo.

Wind.

It was Wind, but taller, stronger, prouder. An emerald tunic strained against the tight muscles of his chest and pinched the bones of his slender hips, skirting around sinewy thighs. A long, droopy cap fluttered genialy in the breeze behind him and waved mischievously at the dumbfounded Legend. There was a cool confidence in his shoulders; despite the fact that they were bundled with sheets of strong, stringy muscles, they were relaxed and easy. Two hands, broad and smooth, rested on the purple hilt of the Master Sword. His hair was an almost neon yellow, bleached from the sun and glossy with health. Wind's lips were set into a blashempously calm smile. His dark, cunning eyes stared straight through Legend, as if the veteran hero was nothing more than a ghost.

The mirror's harsh, rusted words came to mind.

“Do you wish to see this Hero through his own eyes?”

Legend's eyes pricked upwards and a subdued thoughtfulness settled onto his shoulders. Of course. Of course. This made so much more sense than it was supposed to. This was who Wind saw himself as, the hero Wind knew himself to be: confident, proud, and strong. This was the Wind he tried so hard to communicate to the others, only to have his hair ruffled and be dubbed the group's collective "little brother." Legend took a tentative step forward, relaxing imperceptibly when the movement went seemingly unregistered by pseudo-Wind, and reached out towards the smiling ghost.

The vision started to crack, first browning around the corners and then shattering from the center. Legend swallowed a scream and stared hard at the ghost as his consciousness roiled within him. He bit back the urge to resist the pull of reality when a flash of recognition skirted across the ghost's dark eyes.

Light.

Dark.

Sea.

Wood.

Legend's body crashed onto the room's wooden floor. The overpowering stench of smouldering skin and stomach acid smacked him upside the head, and every muscle in his body contracted at once. He breathed in deeply, greedily swallowing the air, and turned over on his back. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Wind's sleeping form -- just as small and precious as ever. He instinctively checked his magic reserves. They hadn’t even been touched. As his vision began to clear and the fear subsided, a familiar fire burned at the back of his head.

This mirror.

This portal.

The tiny muscles lacing his knuckles moved on their own accord, grabbing the mirror that laid next to him and drawing it close to his face. His breathing slowed. His mind raced. This mirror. This portal. This...

To just say it was amazing would have been the epitome of an anticlimax, but the veteran's mind could think of no other word. This thing was a portal to a dimension between dimensions, a harbinger of visions both true and false, a witness to the most sincere kind of lies...and it laid in the palm of his hands. The mirror had answers to questions he didn’t know he had.

A curious, hungry lust burned in his chest. Answers. Answers. That's what he wanted. That's all he wanted. That's what the mirror wanted to give. He pushed himself to his feet. The mirror sat coldly in his hands. Its glass was golden again. He made his way across the room, legs heading towards the bed but mind racing for a reason to stay awake. Maybe the mirror still had something to give? It had to, it hadn’t unfused into its components yet. He had to stay awake. He had to see. Legend stared at the golden glass, silently hoping for it to turn ashy once more and invite him back inside.

The mirror was silent. It didn't burn, shiver, or shake, instead dangled from the tips of his burned fingers with resistance and resolution comparable to that of a dead man. Was it tired? Perhaps it had drawn on its own magic reserve. The Wise Man had said that these fusion artifacts were unstable and temporary, so maybe the magical aura was settling down before splitting back up. The warped, melted flesh of his palms nuzzled against the mirror's cool handle. He would have to heal that before anyone noticed, but all his healing potions were downstairs. His brows furrowed as Legend made his way back to the bed where Sky and Hyrule were sleeping. The two had shifted around so much in their sleep that there wasn’t any room for him now, but that wasn’t really an issue. His mind mulled over the issue that was, quite literally, at hand. He needed to either heal the burn or have a story for it -- and if he wasn't in the mood for interrogation now, he wouldn't be in the morning.

Time let out a massive, wet snore that nearly ripped Legend out of his skin. The veteran hero, surprised and unstable on his feet, toppled backwards onto the bed Hyrule and Sky were sleeping on. His bones banged against theirs, but, miraculously, neither of them woke up. Legend shifted uncomfortably between the two sleeping heros and pulled the mirror out from under him. Some of the cream smeared on Hyrule's face and hands had rubbed off on the side of the bed where Legend was supposed to be sleeping (not a big deal, in all honesty, he knew he wasn't sleeping tonight) and a vial of red potion dangled from his belt. Most likely, the traveler had forgotten to leave it downstairs. How beautifully convenient! Legend unclipped it softly and took a swing of the drink, smiling as the blistered, burgundy skin on his hand cooled and healed. Hyrule wouldn't be mad, he thought as he clipped the potion back to the traveler's belt, and he would make sure to pay back the traveler the next day. Legend's fingers curled idly around the mirror's handle and he brought it to his face to check that the red potion hadn't left a crimson scrim on his upper lip.

Legend was confused for only a split second, then he gasped.

The glass was pitch black.

It was still awake, and it had something to show him.

Legend grinned, previous preoccupations completely forgotten, and inched closer towards Hyrule. The mirror began to clear, almost turning golden once again, and Legend scooted backwards. Okay, it was clear the mirror had no interest in Hyrule. Vertebrae in his back popped as he twisted around, and Legend panned the mirror over Sky's sleeping face. The last vestiges of gold on the mirror's glass were instantly replaced by crashing, boiling waves of black.

"Do you wish to see this Hero through his own eyes?”

"Yes," he heard himself whisper. There was no hesitance in his voice this time.

The world seized once again, shattering around the edges and sending thin, spidery cracks across his vision. Darkness pooled between the fragments, oozing between small shards of reality and swallowing them whole. The floor was gone, the air was gone, his mind and emotions and pale, sleep-deprived body were sent hurling through a bridge between worlds.

He didn't need to catch himself this time. With a soft thump, his feet hit the floor, and his mouth was assaulted by the taste of metal and snow. The slippery taste clung to his tongue, and Legend ran the back of his hand over it in an attempt to wipe the tang away. It only grew stronger. Oh well, so be it. It didn’t matter. Anyway, there was no need to stand here. He knew how this thing worked. Nothing was going to get done if he stood here and lamented the odd taste in his mouth or the very, very bad feeling in his chest.

Legend didn't walk this time, he ran, he sprinted down the airless, soundless, lightless corridor. The world created itself as he moved, replacing black with white, the vacuum with whispers of music, the emptiness with the crisp, clean scent of air never breathed in before.

Cool, gentle, white fingers combed through his hair, and Legend noticed with a start that he was quite literally walking through clouds. He sent a tentative glance to the endless expanse of blue underneath his feet and praised the mirror for forgetting to introduce gravity to this fever dream. There was no ground beneath him, and he walked on the surface of the sky with ease.

The quavering soprano of a harp threaded its way through the silence, careful and slow. No other instruments accompanied it except the hushed singing of a child, the heavy smell of heartache thick in each note. It sounded almost familiar, like a hymn reversed or a favorite childhood lullaby played backwards, and Legend's thrumming heart slowed. He started walking faster, refusing to let himself melt into the music. He was here to meet someone, not to listen to pretty harp music. Clouds stared curiously at the hero as he ran through their wet bosoms, and Legend blinked away the dewey residue they left on his eyelashes. Up ahead, he could make out a figure standing sleepily on a small, grassy hill.

He didn't need to be told that this was the pseudo-Sky he'd come here to meet. The Sky saw himself as. Frankly, Legend wasn’t expecting much. Sky had always struck him as a pretty well-put together guy, and the veteran’s mind was already thinking of which of his other incarnations might offer a more interesting vision.Legend’s legs carried him towards the distant figure regardless, and his burning curiosity propelled him forward each step. As he approached, the clouds around ghost Sky started to shift. They clustered in Sky, almost queuing up behind each other, and gradually took on an uncomfortably familiar form. The wind first whipped the clouds into something vaguely humanoid, then pulled back the sides of their heads into pointed ears. A biting breeze whizzed around the clouds and sculpted chests and legs and something resembling tunics and swords.

Cloud Links. An army. They covered the entire blue expanse ahead, standing shyly and awkwardly in front of the figure on the hill. Legend drew closer, drawing himself up onto the grassy hill where Sky’s ghost stood. Completely ignored by the spectral figures around him, Legend stared at the scene with comfortable amazement.

Sky, eyes half-closed in his ever present amiable grin, unsheathed the Master Sword from its scabbard and held it out to the first Cloud Link in front of him. The white, puffy arms reached out for the sword. They turned black the instant it held the hilt. The Cloud Link screamed as he was torn from the inside out, blistering boils of red and black and blue bubbled and popped across his chest, and his existence was wiped away by a vicious breeze. Each Link that stepped up met the same fate. A scream, then they were nothing. The air grew thick with black smog, bitter and angry and ashy. Each Link stepped up in front of Sky, blank eyes hopeful and ignorant, only to watch as their bodies were shredded where they stood.

Ghost Sky was still smiling: unseeing, unfeeling, unknowing.

He kept holding out the sword.

He kept murdering the Cloud Links.

The harp music continued happily on.

Bile crept into Legend’s mouth.

The music began to quaver, and Legend noticed that something black and scaly was creeping up Sky's arms. The skin split and sloughed off, revealing hard, obsidian sheafs underneath, and Legend's eyes widened as a white X drew itself on the ghost's forehead. Puffs of charcoal leaked from Sky's eyes, which had grown small and hard and orange, and trailed down his face in the imitation of tears. The music exploded into an orchestral wail; the drums shook, the choir screamed, the violins shrieked. Sky's hair slowly turned from blond to black to bright and flaming. His chest, now covered in scales, bulged and tore through the green cloth of his tunic.

The demon was still smiling; smiling a horrible, grieving, heart-broken smile.

There were no more Cloud Links left.

The Master Sword clattered to the floor. Legend moved instinctually to pick it up, only to be knocked back by the demon on the hill.

Sky, Sky's ghost, Sky's demon, whatever it was, stared at him blankly before letting out the most terrified, devastated howl Legend had ever heard.

It opened its mouth to speak, to scream, to apologize and beg for forgiveness, but Legend was already falling. The sky, black, red, and green, throbbed and bled as the veteran hero plummeted into an uncreated abyss.

Red.

Green.

Hero.

Demon.

Legend's face, wet with sweat and tears he didn't know he shed, stuck to the bed's fabric. He didn't need to breathe, he didn't want to breathe, he didn't want to do anything. He didn't want to think about what he'd just seen, or what he'd just learned, or the implications of what he should do now.

His fingers reached for the mirror if only to console himself, the same way one might reach for a mother’s hand after being spanked or cling to a toy being torn away. But his hands wrapped around two individual artifacts. The Lens of Truth and Magic Mirror. They’d unfused.

Well, he’d had enough excitement. Perhaps the same was true for them.

He laughed. There was no hint of mirth in the hollow, choking noise.

Since when had he become so quick to lie to himself?

┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙

#linkeduniverse #praisejojo #lu #loz #fanfiction

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coutelier · 4 years ago

Text

Another excerpt, a bit longer than the last couple I posted. According to Scrivener exactly 3000 words, which pleases me (although proofreading and editing may uncover some missing words etc - whatever - I’ll just take some away some place because I’m keeping that number).

Summer had ended. Now the skies were gray, the leaves brown, and from here on the days would only grow shorter and darker still. Kaya had ignored Sergeant Daramy’s warning, taking Greenback out to a clearing in the woods. She wasn’t one hundred per cent sure what instinct had brought her back; maybe she just wanted to return to the last place she remembered being happy - the site of her last great adventure. The clearing looked a different now - smaller - and the last time she’d been here there had been stars above. All of her life was here in the car, so after some rummaging she had a screen on her lap with an old hard drive hanging from it’s side.

“You’re looking at the past,” a girl inside the computer said. Jennifer, her voice made a little tinny by the machine’s speaker, but Kaya could her as clear as if she were in the car next to her. This would have been over ten years ago, when twilight still lasted forever. They’d ridden out here on their bicycles to find a fairy circle, then clasped hands and swung each other around until falling from exhaustion to look up at the twinkles in the sky.

Kaya’s younger self also lay on her back, leg kicking to a beat only she ever heard, face scrunched as she responded, “huh?” Her hair had been brown back then.

“The stars,” pretty blonde Jennifer answered, one arm already reaching for them. “They’re so far away that the light from them takes years to reach us, so what we see now is really how they were a long time ago. We wouldn’t even know the Sun had exploded for eight minutes.”

Little Kaya bolted upright, gasping, “the Sun has exploded?!”

Jenn seemed to catch some of the panic, flustered and confused as she too gasped, “What? No! I don’t think so. At least not for a very long time, probably.”

“I don’t get it,” little Kaya relaxed again. “Why are you so weird?”

“It’s not weird,” huffed Jennifer, “it’s science.”

“It’s freaky. Remember you made Cass cry because you said her cat was a zombie?”

“I said there was a fifty-fifty chance it was alive or dead,” Jenn sighed, “I just wanted her to let the poor thing out of the box. It was just a thing I read.”

“Didn’t you also read we’d see fairies out here?”

As the twilight dream came to an end, both girls had been disappointed. Jennifer’s book, ‘The Hidden People’, had indeed promised that being in the circle at twilight would allow them to glimpse the fae realm. Alas, the only lights they saw were the stars above and traffic lights from Irongate in the valley below.

“I guess not everything in books is true,” Jennifer conceded. “That’s why we have to test them. Maybe the camera saw something?”

Big red Kaya watching the scene on her laptop hadn’t yet seen anything unusual, cracking open a beer as the girls on screen lay in the circle a while longer. “We’re not little kids anymore,” her younger self said. “Maybe we should think about doing things a little more, you know, normal.”

Jennifer’s nose wrinkled, “that doesn’t sound like fun.”

“It could be; music, parties, games.”

“We do those things anyway.”

“But I mean with other people. It’s,” young Kaya chewed as she searched for the right word, “it’s networking.”

“Networking?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t get it.” Of course Jennifer would only understand that word in the context of machines and computers. Big Kaya chided her younger self for being a dumbass - she was never going to have it better than she had then - and waited for Jennifer to finally stand as the last of the Sun’s rays vanished. “We should get back,” she said, “dad’s probably looking for us.”

Little Kaya groaned having just gotten comfortable, “Do we have to?” She was never in a hurry to get home. Still wasn’t.

“We should have been back hours ago,” Jenn explained, holding out a hand to help Kaya up, “I’m probably going to be grounded again.” Unlike with other fathers, Jennifer never had cause to be fearful of her dad’s threats.

Young Kaya took the hand, but waited a moment to gaze up at Jenn with her fair skin and hair, almost silver-white now in the moonlight. “You look like a fairy,” she said. Jennifer obviously didn’t know how to respond to that, blushing nervously until Kaya was up and she went to pack away her book and other things.

This was the part big Kaya had been waiting for. As Jennifer picked up her backpack there was faint noise that reminded Kaya of hearing a tap left running in the bathroom at night. Then a gust of wind forced Jennifer’s dress to wrap tightly around her body pulling her backwards a few steps. Only there was no wind - Kaya rewound and played the video again to be sure, and indeed the trees and bushes behind Jennifer hadn’t moved. It was more like something had run past her very fast. Something that neither they or the camera could see. Jennifer at the time knew something was off as well, her blue eyes fixing on the shrubs and undergrowth. In particular there was a gap where branches touched to create a door, a portal to an inky black realm beyond. Before young Kaya registered what was happening, Jenn had already gotten her flashlight and was sticking her head in.

“What are you doing?” Little Kaya ran to her friend and the thorny arch, but Jenn was already through and searching the undergrowth.

“There’s something here,” she explained.

“What thing?”

“I don’t know, but it whispered to me. It said my name…”

“Okay, whatever it is it sounds creepy. Get back here!”

Unable to see anything, it seemed Jenn was going to comply. Then the ground beneath her shook. Jenn struggled to keep her footing, but then she was standing over nothing and being swallowed by the Earth, Kaya lunging to catch her but just too late. Young Kaya was then on her knees staring into a gaping hole, crying desperately, “Jenn! Jenn Air! Are you okay?!”

It was a minute before a faint plaintiff echo replied, “I’m okay! I think I’m in a cave.”

Irongate had started it’s life as a mining town, with shafts and tunnels as well as natural caves scattered all over the surrounding hills and valleys. Most were abandoned now as the town’s economy changed to technology and a university, leaving behind just a few remnants of its past, like the few elderly folks that still recalled the ‘good old days’ when most of their friends were crushed or choked by natural gas - while bemoaning the youth for not wanting to literally put their lives on the line everyday to help a billionaire fill his liqueur cabinet.

But big Kaya was digressing. Her younger self out of concern for her friend decided - without much thought - that she couldn’t leave Jenn alone and jumped into the hole after her. The camera however had been left in the clearing, so to confirm if what she’d seen down there was real she was going to have to leave the car and find another way into the cave - she was too big now to fit down the slide.

She remembered back then that, after bouncing down the tunnel with flecks of dirt tumbling all about her, Jennifer had jumped out the way just in time to avoid getting kicked in the face. Kaya had landed triumphantly on her feet, but Jenn seemed less than impressed.

“What are you doing?” She’d asked.

“What do you mean?” Little Kaya was genuinely surprised by her reaction. “I’m helping you get out of here.”

Luckily Jenn still had her flashlight or they wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. She illuminated the hole they’d fallen through, nearly a foot above their heads, asking, “suppose that’s the only way out?” Sure enough, even if they could have gotten up there the slide was too steep and the sides too loose to climb all the way back to the surface. It was a rare occasion when Jenn lost her temper but she did then, repeatedly slapping Kaya’s arm, hissing “idiot!”

But Kaya had always been the stronger of the two, easily shoving Jenn to the ground. “Relax,” she’d urged her friend, “there are loads of tunnels around here. Bound to be another way out.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Gangs use them to hide all their stuff from police.”

Jennifer had eyed her a little suspiciously, “how do you know that?”

“Networking,” young Kaya exclaimed with her finger pointing up. “You can learn a lot from people you know. Not everything is in books.”

Although reluctant to put her trust in the sayings of ‘people’ Jennifer had seen they had no choice regardless, so that night they set about exploring the caves for an exit. What they found was another world. As they’d ventured forth, it soon became apparent that there was no need for Jenn’s flashlight as ahead of them the tunnel lit up. Thinking they’d found the way out they ran, and when they burst out the tunnel’s mouth they were in a forest. But not like the forest they’d started in - this was a forest made of luminescent mushrooms of all sizes, all glowing in various hues of pink and blue, all nestled in a cavern the size of a village.

The girls joined hands, dumbstruck until Kaya exhaled, “was this in the book?”

Jenn shook her head. “I think we have to go through it,” she’d said.

There had been a steep slope between them and the strange effervescent forest floor which they tackled the same way they’d tackled stairs when they were even younger - bouncing down it on their butts. It was then that Kaya cut her hand on a sharp, triangular piece of stone, spitting and swearing as the burning sensation spread across her palm. Fortunately, Jennifer had been prepared, coming to her with plasters from her backpack.

“A fairy arrow,” Jenn had said upon inspecting the stone. “Good find. It’s supposed to protect the holder from evil magics - here,” she offered it to Kaya who, after all, had found it and was still trying to shake out the pain.

Little Kaya pocketed it in her jeans. “You really think there might be fairies here?”

“I don’t know,” Jennifer admitted, “but, we’ll find out together.”

The mushrooms had been all sizes, some tiny ones forming a thick carpet across the cavern floor that squelched beneath their feet, while others grew to the size of a tree. Some were thin and tall, others wide enough to lie on. Jennifer fished her book out of her backpack to compare, but none of the illustrations in there were as bright and vivid as this. Young Kaya began thinking of her stomach and eyeing the bio-luminescent fungi like candy. “Think we could eat these things?” She asked. “They could be, like, magic or something.”

“Best not,” Jennifer answered. The fungi covered the walls and ceiling too, creating the illusion of another starry canvas. Awed Jennifer was taking it all in, not seeing the thing creeping behind her. Kaya did, Jenn gasping as she was yanked by the arm away from a sofa sized mushroom, dropping her book. Over the fungal seat the thing came crawling - a translucent glass spider as big as their heads. It reared back, pedipalps reaching out as if sensing the girls, as Jenn peered and squinted with Kaya making sure she kept a safe distance.

“It might have poison,” young Kaya whispered, “come on - let’s go.”

There were a few other tunnels around that might possibly have led to the surface. As Jenn was being led away she remembered her book, breaking free to run back, only to find herself looking at an empty floor. “It’s gone,” she said, perplexed. A search was off the table however, as then the cavern filled with a puffing sound like that of a hot-air balloon, then a jet of orange flame erupting from the mouth of one of the tunnels, instantly melting all the mushrooms it touched. Running was in order.

And so they did, sprinting from the gushing flames until they came to a wall, which they followed hoping for an exit. They did find another tunnel, but as they rounded the corner the girls screamed and immediately fell back, holding onto each other. Before them was a human figure covered in a silver space suit, a small blue flame in front of the nozzle he was brandishing. He looked down, the clutching girls reflected in his helmet then raised a hand as a voice crackled from inside, “Hold! There are kids here!”

A decade later, big Kaya entered the cavern the same way the spaceman had, carrying only a beer can and a lamp. The mushrooms, forest, glass spiders - all gone. All that was here now were cold stone walls and darkness. Kaya had convinced herself that her imagination had exaggerated the things she saw, but there had obviously been a clean-up operation going on here that night. After the girls were found, they’d been led outside where more people in space-suits and doctors bustled around vans that bore the logo of Stag Corp. Jennifer fell quiet in the face of so much activity and noise, holding onto Kaya’s arm more tightly - she should have chosen her confidante more wisely. She relaxed when they were taken into a tent with just one of the doctor’s examining them. They paid particular attention to Kaya’s cut, took a blood sample from each of them, then they were left alone until Jenn’s father came to collect them.

Jonathan Airhart had been what you’d expect a scientist to look like; glasses, tweed, minimal amount of hair maintenance. On that night he’d looked sweaty and exhausted, Kaya assumed out of worry for his daughter. She recalled yet another awkward moment when Jenn ran to hug him while Kaya was left sitting on a fold out table alone, kicking her feet and just staring absently at the corners of the tent. Of course he started to tell her off for disobeying, Jennifer performing a little furtive dance as she apologized and his stern demeanor quickly subsided. The only strange thing about him that night, Kaya recalled, was that he’d swiped the blood samples from the little machine the doctor had placed them in.

“Neither of you has any infection,” he’d said, “we should all just be grateful for that, I suppose.”

Then Jennifer asked, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he assured her. Then he took something out of his pocket - a small wood carving of an owl. “I got you a present.” With that, Jennifer seemed to forget about all the strange things they’d seen as she was hypnotized by the image of the silent bird of prey in flight. “Long ago,” her father told, “humans could only dream of what it would be like to fly high above the Earth. They couldn’t just grow wings of their own, but in time would learn to make balloons and planes and rocket ships flying higher than a bird ever could. That’s the power of the human mind - we can turn dreams into reality. Although, it doesn’t always turn out how we imagined.”

Jennifer sagely noted, “some dreams are scary.”

“I know,” Jonathan patted her softly on the head, “but we’re all fine now. Let’s get home.”

In the empty cavern in the present, big Kaya watched all this play out through the projector of her mind, but it seemed there really was no other trace here of anything that had happened back then. She couldn’t even ask Jennifer about it - they hadn’t really spoken since shortly after this and Kaya had no idea where she was now. But Jenn was smart - Kaya had no doubt she would have done well, despite her. Or in spite of her. In any case, when the phone rang it was Kaya’s mom.

Kaya put down the lamp, taking a moment to be mildly impressed that she got a signal down here - but then it wasn’t really that deep and it seemed another hole had opened in the ceiling since she was here last. “Hi mom,” she answered, sipping from her can whenever she had to wait for a response. “No, I’m fine… really… uh-huh… yes I’m brushing my teeth. You know I’m twenty-one now, right?” It seemed all she wanted was to check-up on Kaya, then shame her by telling her what all her friends from church and their kids had accomplished. Kaya knew that if she asked, her mother would help her find a place to live, a job, getting all her life in order. Or would try to. Unfortunately, it would mean having to deal with that other asshole she used to live with. “Is that dad?” Her face soured the moment she heard his voice in the background and she began to twist and dig her toe into the ground. “Yeah? Well you tell that bloated, decrepit, piece of human garbage, that I’ll-” Kaya bit her lip, realizing she was only going to create problems for her mom. “Look, I’ll see you soon, okay? Goodbye… love you.”

Kaya placed the phone back in her denim jacket as she began to pace like she could just walk off all the venom she had built up for that man. She couldn’t, so she crushed her beer can and with a snarl threw it across the cavern, gasping in shock and horror as it flew through Jennifer. Of course, she wasn’t really there - it was just a memory.

Coming here had been dumb. There was nothing to see. No revelation, no reconciliation - nothing. She was stupid, and was just going to have to live with that.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #am writing #i am writing #wip #my wip #science fiction #Irongate

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heartofhryule · 8 years ago

Text

Heart of Wisdom - Final Chapter

Heart of Wisdom - Chapter 16

Chapter 16 - 100% Fluff'N'Smut. The final chapter in The Heart of Wisdom story. Thanks for sticking with this long guys!

WARNINGS: Depicts Explicit Sexual content. Contains Hyrule Warriors spoilers and story items. I highly recommend playing the game if you haven’t! It’s complete fluff, but fun fluff.

_____________________________________

Heart of Wisdom | Chapter 16 | Conclusion

“You lied to us?!” Link wailed from Epona. If Zelda hadn’t been seated in front of him, he might have fallen off.

Midna’s laughter was eerie and musical in the air around them. “Of course I did! Lana told me she wasn’t supposed to intervene, but knew you needed help. So, I fibbed a little to cover at the time.”

Midna float along between Epona and Impa’s horse, the party returning from having bound Ganon’s soul once more under the Master Sword in the Sacred Grove. Impa and Lana rode slightly ahead of them and Lana turned in her saddle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked her to lie. Don’t be mad at Midna.”

Link sighed, understanding the need for the deception. It honestly wasn’t that he was agitated about. “But that means that we won’t see you again,” Zelda said softly, reaching out to take Midna’s hand, voicing the true root of Link’s upset.

The Twilight Queen just gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, but think about it this way - I’ve gotten to see you two again, twice more than I ever thought I would.”

“This is where we part ways,” Impa sighed, looking to Lana and Midna. They’d reached the fork in the wooded path, one way taking their party back to Hyrule Castle, the other a path that would take Midna and Lana back to the Sorceress’s sanctum.

For the first time since the battles with Darkness had started months ago, everyone dismounted and gave Lana a proper goodbye, not a one of them letting her slip off without it this time. The Sorceress was clearly touched, and wiped her eyes with a smile. “Thank you all.”

“Without your help, we would not have been able to do this,” Zelda said solemnly. “It is you we should thank. Thank you, Lana.”

“Damn I’m gonna miss you guys,” Midna said, seeming to voice both her own and Lana’s feelings.

“Same,” Link said, squeezing Midna in a hug one last time.

Volga however cleared his throat. “I will accompany Lana and Midna back to the Sanctum to assure their safety,” the Dragonknight volunteered. Midna turned her lips in against a smile at the same moment Lana’s eyes lit up a little.

Zelda nodded to him, seeing something for the first time but keeping her council. “Travel safely then,” Impa said, clapping his shoulder before swinging back up onto her horse. All riders mounted again and called their final farewells before the party split and headed for their destinations.

***

Lana’s sanctum wasn’t much more than a half day’s ride from the point in the journey they’d bid goodbye to their friends, and there had not been much talking. A somber aire had fallen over the companions, but the lack of conversation had let them make good time.

The Dragonknight insisted on seeing Midna safely back as well, if it was what she desired. It clearly both was and was not, the Twili yearning to stay but knowing she had a duty to her time to return. Twilight could not be without its ruler, despite it’s Queen’s desires. That and she had once possessed the Triforce of Wisdom. She knew that it was necessary.

Turning to Volga, Midna winked as Lana’s voice casting the spell echoed around them. “Watch over these idiots for me, yeah?” she said with a broad grin.

Bowing respectfully - she was royalty after all - with his right hand over his heart, he nodded. “Of course, your highness. As best that I can.”

“Oh come on, warlock,” she laughed, “We both know if anyone can it’s you. And Volga?” He stood, meeting her eyes to find the burning coals of her irises glittering with amusement. “You’re going to handle your heart, right?”

Smirking, the Dragonknight sighed. “You don’t know how to avoid poking dragons do you?”

“Literally compelled.”

“Of course. And yes, I do.”

“Good.”

Turning to see the portal was open, Midna shot Lana a broad grin. “You’ll come visit, right? Because you can, and we both know it.” Lana hesitated, but gave Midna a resolute nod. “Good. You should bring him with you,” she said and with the last float backwards through the portal as it closed.

The air became less charged around them, and the light faded with the magic. The Sanctum was currently still anchored in this time, Lana had explained that she would have to unanchor it eventually, but she hadn’t once she realized Darkness was going to yet return.

Looking around for any excuse to procrastinate, Lana saw nothing she could use to waylay her duty any longer. “It’s time,” she said sadly.

Volga however took off his helmet and set it on the table next to him. “What’s the hurry?”

“I’ve already stayed too long,” the sorceress intoned quietly, turning her back to him as she tried to not let her emotions get the better of her. Volga saw this and took a step forward. “I need to return to my duties.”

“And is it all monitoring? Constantly watching the time stream?”

“Well no,” she sighed. That’s what I do mostly, because there’s nothing much better to do. I used to read, or write, but I’ve read all the books and very little inspires me. No one to be inspired by, or to even talk to.” Turning to him, he saw her lashes were again damp with emotional tears. “You weren’t wrong, about what you said. It is very lonely, and… I’m not looking forward to going back.

Dropping his gauntlets and gloves to the table beside his helm, Volga returned his gaze to Lana and reached out, offering her a hand. She took it, but the Dragonknight pulled her closer rather than that mere gesture of comfort. Gathering her other hand as well, Volga gently urged her to look up at him. “And what if I went with you?”

“You can’t,” she gasped, shaking her head.

“Why not?”

“The...rules…”

“So the goddess forbid you from having friends?”

“Well… no…”

“She said no one could ever share your eternity. Your loneliness? She wanted you to be lonely forever?”

“No! No she would have never!”

“So Nayru, Farore and Din have appeared and said as much?”

She narrowed her eyes, seeing he intended to continue in this manner. “No. There was no official decree from any Divinity. It was just… understood. I thought.”

“And you never questioned, as it wasn’t a problem until-”

“I realized I was lonely,” she admitted, her voice rough with the truth of her words.

“Then I will come with you, and you will no longer be lonely.”

She shook her head, still resisting. “Your Barony, the people you defend…”

“Are in good hands. I have left the lands to my cousin who has done magnificently in my absence over the last few months, and deserves the reward. When I joined Cia, let Darkness steal my heart… from that moment forward, I was never meant to go back to Snowpeak. Not permanently.

“But our friends… your life…”

“They will understand. If I had my guess, Zelda already knows.” He gave her a smile and watched as the sorceress relaxed slowly, starting to accept that he meant it. “Besides, who better to accept a once cursed Warlock knight like myself, than the purest goodness of a true Sorceress?”

“Oh Volga!” she cried and fell forward into his arms, forehead against his chest. “Do you really, truly mean it?”

Wrapping her in a warm hug, the dragonknight found it impossible not to smile. “Of course I do. I can think of no better fate than living outside of time with a kind, intelligent, and beautiful soul who wants nothing more than to not be alone. Only the Goddesses could grant a better fate.”

Lana wept softly a moment, accepting his affection and searching her own. It seemed that her gratitude could lend to misunderstood emotions on both sides… but then there was a part of her that knew. He was one of her few friends, she already cared deeply for him. Would it really be misunderstood?

Looking up to the handsome Knight holding her in chaste comfort, Lana smiled. Something told her that in those red, magical eyes might be where her true destiny lay. Yes, yes she could fall in love with Volga.

Pushing off his chest gingerly, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the center of the room. “Alright! Then let me show you how to unanchor the Sanctum. Then I can show you how to anchor it! We’re going to need to if we intend to visit Midna!” Feeling more bubbly than she’d felt in months, Lana’s heart was light and effervescent as she stood across from Volga and smiled. He seemed amused and pleased, and endlessly patient.

Yes. Yes, she could be very happy like this. And she would be. And he would be. And they would be happy together, she and her Dragonknight Warlock.

“Okay, now repeat after me…”

***

The Castle was nearly repaired from the battles both recent and previous by the time they returned, the people recovering as well. They made the Castle by evening of the next day thanks to Lana’s magic there and back, having left almost directly after the ceremony that had wed Link and Zelda.

By the time they rode over the drawbridge and into the stables, Impa was ready to be done with the giggling and affectionate newlyweds. Leaping from her horse and handing the reigns to the stable boy, the Sheikah’s laughter echoed with her words, “Please, Highnesses, have the evening off. I will handle what needs handling - far away from the two of you. For as many days as you need.”

Link, feeling much healed after the potions Zelda had fed him, slid down from Epona and reached up to help her down. In so doing, he wrapped her in his arms and brushed his nose to hers affectionately. “Where to, my wife?”

“The bath,” she laughed, kissing him chastely and pushing away from him. But the Hero pouted, catching her hand as she started to walk away. Hyrule castle did not have the shared baths of Snowpeak which meant drawing up tubs, possibly in separate rooms.

“Together?” he asked hopefully as she pulled him along.

“No,” she giggled, teasing him cruelly. “Remember, you did not grant my wish in Snowpeak because of all my promises for our wedding night. Now? Now you will wait for those promises.” He whimpered as they made it into the palace and up the back stairs towards her private chambers. “Oh hush,” she laughed. “You made me wait, and now I’m just returning the favor.”

“You might be evil…” he whined. Reaching her rooms, she tried to shake him off and close the door, but Link wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, laying kisses on the back of her neck.

“I’m filthy,” she argued, but merely waddled into the room without shaking him off.

Link kicked the door closed behind them, and tucked his face against the bend of her shoulder. “I don’t care. The world isn’t ending, we’re not at war, Darkness is bound and I have the most beautiful wife in all of creation. There is but one thing in the world that I need right now and a bath is not it.”

“What if I begged to differ?” She teased, leaning back against him as she kicked off her boots. Another pitiful whine was the only answer he could manage, inspiring a round of giggles from her. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and see what we can do about that whining problem you have…”

She pulled him over to the wash basin, clearly not summoning the servants for a tub, and began helping him off with his clothing while accepting his help with hers. Making an affectionate game of the undressing and washing, Link discovered that any nervousness he’d once had about the splendor of her body and their intimacy was completely gone. He had a lot to learn, but he’d already brought her pleasure once before, and they had the rest of their lives to learn even more.

He watched her run the cloth over herself carefully and he knew she was tormenting him, the smirk she gave over her shoulder confirmation he’d not really needed. However before he could gather his thoughts enough to respond, she was cleaning the dried blood and dirt from his arms and chest. “I don't want to be reminded constantly that you nearly died today. Not tonight…” Despite her smile, her voice was soft with emotion.

Link stopped her hands gently and took the cloth from her, cleaning himself off entirely and with haste before reaching out and pulling her against him once more. Claiming her lips in a deep kiss that spoke of his passion for her, he strove to erase the upset that threatened her mind. When he needed to breath more deeply, he broke away just enough to rest his forehead to hers and look her in the eye. “No more of that,” he purred, one hand coming to tangle in the soft hair at the nape of her neck, fingers massaging gently in the hopes of coaxing and distracting. “No more thoughts of what could have happened. Only what did, and what’s going to.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, but she gave him a smile and nodded gently. “Like how today you became my husband?”

“And you my wife,” he grinned encouragingly.

She grinned up to him, happiness resurging as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body to him in a line from chest to knee. Link was very distracted, and undeniably aroused when her lips brushed his. “My King,” she whispered.

He couldn’t take it any longer. Link didn’t give a flying octorok’s backside if they were clean any more. Bending his head to taste her lips again with a low rumble of desire, arms around her waist he lift her from her feet and carried her to the bed.

Bending to lay her down, she refused to release his neck or abandon his kisses so he followed her down with a smile. Once comfortable, Link rest to her side slightly and held her close. Hands roaming her sides, the feel of her skin was slowly driving him mad. His kisses trailed down her neck and over her shoulder and as his lips brushed the soft flesh of one breast she cooed in anticipation, the sweet, feminine sound inflaming his blood.

It was an act of will to maintain his mind as the soft noises of pleasure she made under his hands and lips were enough to strip him of civilised thinking for the rest of his life. She was frenzied and begging him softly after a short while, and when his dancing fingers could tell she was on the verge of pleasure, he drew up beside her. ��Zel,” he whispered and was trying to form words to make sure she was ready, but Zelda had other ideas.

She silenced him with a hungry kiss, and pulled him over atop her as her knees parted and accepted him between. There was no stopping the moan of true pleasure and full body shudder that wracked him as his need caressed her sweet warmth for the first time. After that, there was no more self control.

He met her hunger in kisses, and positioned himself before one hand came to hold her hip, the other propping him up over her. He had intended to be slow and gentle their first time, but she undid him so thoroughly, he found it impossible to maintain his intentions. Hips thrust forward, once within her desire there was no other heaven he would know. She was perfection, the way he fit within her perfect… Divine, and a fevered ache began to take over his entire body.

Beneath him, Zelda’s back arched and the soft wail that ripped from her was a sound of pure ecstasy. Her legs came up to wrap about his hips, and when Link remembered how to breath again, his body began to move of it’s own volition. His thrusts became heated and greedy, needing to please her, bring her pleasure and find his own. Each coo and whimper from her spurring him on further until finally her legs tensed around him and she cried out. It was a beautiful thing to watch, his princess so in ecstasy that she came up off the bed, shuddering repeatedly with the stroke of his body into hers. It also inspired fire in his lions that demanded satiation or it might kill him.

But then suddenly, he was on his back and looking up at the blissful and mischeivous face of his wife from under the curtain of her golden hair. He didn’t entirely realize or recall how this had transpired, only that she had kept him within her in so doing.

Heart racing and breath short, he was going to ask if she was pleased before begging her to let him find satisfaction, but then her hips began to move astride him. Words were no longer an option. Little fireworks were going off in his brain, and his eyes were glued to the lusty Goddess who moved atop him. She was smiling in addition to her mewls of furthered rapture, and watching him with her blue-violet eyes as she moved his hands to her hips.

He was only a mortal man. Some might argue that, but Link was well aware of his limitations. Resisting or maintaining any semblance of coherency with the vision above him was one of them; impossible. His hands gripped where she’d placed them and he began thrust up to meet her gyrations with blind abandon. She bent forward, her soft chest brushing his face in the processes before she claimed his mouth in hungry kisses once more, and it was done.

With a cry against her lips, he moved within her as the fireworks moved from his mind throughout his entire body until he could no longer. A languid and heavy feeling started to spread in his veins and all he could do was weakly return the kisses she gave him.

Floating, though he was mostly sure he’d not left the bed, Link was dimly aware when Zelda slid off to his side. He managed to tuck her under his arm as he tried to catch his breath that she’d stolen, head lolling over towards her. “I…Zel.... That…”

She giggled at his poor attempted to speak and touched a finger to his lips. “Yes it was,” she purred and nuzzled his neck. “And it will be every night for the rest of our lives.”

The thought brought a lazy grin to his face, and he rolled up to his side to gather her in both arms. Poetry was trying to dance around his mind for the dizzying spectrum of feelings and emotions whirling around his mind. There was nothing else he could ever want outside of this, and he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t find his voice.

“I know,” she grinned, accepting him into her arms as he curled around her. “I tried to convince you of this in Snowpeak…”

He chortled once sharply. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Mmm… maybe,” she teased and kissed his forehead. “But not for a while. But it’s alright, because I adore teasing you.”

The warm feeling tugging at his consciousness, he smiled at her words. He honestly liked her teasing too. It felt like a lifetime ago he’d met the kind but somewhat distant and regal Princess of Hyrule - she was the same person, but the nymph in his arms was warm and loving, brave and kind as she was funny and made of mischief. It was also, in realilty far longer ago that they’d met. A truth that would always warm his soul. She was also his, while at the same time owning him mind, body and soul.

“And, my hero?” she said softly, rubbing her cheek affectionately against his hair.

“Yes, my Princess?”

“I love you.”

Link smiled and turned his sleepy face up to her for a slow kiss, full of the pure,

unbridled love he felt in return. “And I you, Zel. Always.”

She smiled and nodded, giving him that kiss as she affirmed, “Forever.”

~fin~

#zelink #hwzelink #legend of zelda #hyrule warriors #zelda #link #impa #midna #volga #lana #heart of wisdom #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #smut

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thesinglesjukebox · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

STEFFLON DON & LIL BABY - PHONE DOWN

[4.17]

Hey you I see you! With your phone! Looking at The Singles Jukebox!

Will Adams: An effervescent RnBass would-be banger, utterly ruined by its "phones but too much" message. [4]

Alfred Soto: Condemning an unchangeable phenomenon of modern life with melodies, lyrics, and vocal processing that sound like someone fooled around on a phone and -- presto! -- this emerged. Coincidence? [3]

Katherine St Asaph: The older I get, the worse my social anxiety becomes, and thus the more time I spend looking at my phone. It's the least worst option: When one is visibly not at ease anywhere, looking at one's one is an activity that's socially camouflaging if not quite socially acceptable, like how extras on a stage will pretend to hold background chatter; and it's a portal to somewhere your presence may actually be desired. The scolding for it, from culture and pop culture and songs like this, just makes matters worse. But make no mistake: "Phone Down" would still sound garish and awful as nonsense syllables. [1]

Scott Mildenhall: If ever a lyric deserved to become a cultural catchphrase, it was this. All and sundry have expended dictionaries-worth of words on The Scourge of The Reflektor, but little has got to the heart of the issue in a way which will be as widely agreed on as "put your phone down, down, down -- baby you can do that later." What's more, the song isn't content to rely on it, throwing in an agitated bridge from Stefflon Don and a gear-change from Lil Baby that heighten the sense that this is not only a vignette of two relationships, but also a public service announcement, and perhaps Stefflon Don's pitch to be the new Green Cross Code Man. [8]

Crystal Leww: Sonically, this owes something to Nicki Minaj's Barbie days -- specifically "Check It Out," which no one wants to talk about anymore. But Stefflon Don is no Nicki and somehow Lil Baby manages not a single bit of the personality that he had in a few "wahs" and exudes none of the attitude that will.i.am somehow managed in spades. The beat is fun though, I guess. [5]

Alex Clifton: This actually grew on me by the end as the music gets interesting instead of just staying the robotic Auto-Tuned 2010 nightmare I assumed this would be. That doesn't make it good, though. [4]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Stefflon Don #Lil Baby #R&B #hip hop #music #music review #writing

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epchapman89 · 7 years ago

Text

The Very Best Of The Roaster’s Village At South By Southwest

Did it really happen? Was it all just a fever dream? Were those three days that felt like two weeks but also like two seconds really occur outside of my own consciousness? Indeed they did. That or Sprudge has some pretty sophisticated mental imaging that recorded my frenzied state.

From March 10th through 12th, 12 coffee brands (and Briggo) descended upon Austin, Texas, to be part of the first-ever Roaster’s Village at South By Southwest as part of SouthBites, the food and beverage portion kicking off the weeklong arts, music, tech, and entertainment festival. We worked behind the scenes with SXSW over the past few months to curate a cadre of local, national and international coffee brands for the inaugural endeavor and it was truly a magical experience. We activated, we partied, we podcasted repeatedly, and we even splashed a few splashes. It was a hell of a time.

We have a lot of cool content from the Roaster’s Village that we’ll be releasing over the next few weeks—an interview or two, podcasts aplenty—but for now, let’s take a look back at the heart of what made it a smashing success: the coffee brands that took part in South By Southwest’s first-ever Roaster’s Village.

For all of our coverage of South By Southwest, visit our Roaster’s Village portal on Sprudgelive.com.

Sprudge Media Network’s coverage of the Roaster’s Village at SXSW 2018 is sponsored by Falcon Coffees.

Tweed Coffee

Any inaugural Texas coffee event wouldn’t be complete without Tweed Coffee Roasters, the Austin via Dallas-based roasting arm of Houndstooth Coffee. In true Tweed fashion, their booth was simple and well-executed, including two Clever brewed hot coffee options—the washed Red Bourbon Kibuye from Gitega, Burundi and the washed Bourbon, Caturra, and Typica Araguaney from the Aprocassi Coop in Peru—and a flash chilled iced coffee—the Los Romerillos in Ecuador. That flash chilled option was a hot commodity in the South By heat.

Tweed is going to be all over Austin this weekend, being part of some delicious coffee cocktails at all three Houndstooth locations. If you’re willing to wait in the 30-minute line, they’ll make it well worth your wait.

Slingshot Coffee Roasters + Oatly

For the hottest day expected during the three-day SouthBites outdoor pavilion, cold coffee drinks are a must-have. And Slingshot Coffee is probably one of the hottest cold coffee brands out there right now. You’ll be seeing them in grocers on the West Coast very soon, and their East Coast presence is about to receive a major boost now that they will be debuting at Publix. The North Carolina-based RTD maker came armed to the teeth with tasty cold coffee beverages, ready to battle the heat wave.

Along with their classic cascara tea on top (with very cool and maybe a little dangerous slingshot tap handles) and cascara tonic made with Jack Rudy tonic, Slingshot debuted a few new offerings, including a blueberry jasmine cascara drink, made with 100% blueberry juice and dried jasmine flower. They also brought their new Cascarnold, a cascara-based take on the Arnold Palmer and the Slingshotte, a cold brew and Oatly concoction (WOW! No cow!). With all the tasty SouthBy-exclusive cold brew concoctions being whipped up around the Roaster’s Village, I found myself trying to pocket a few bottles of Slingshot for some later time drinking, that may or may not include a little whiskey.

Stumptown Coffee Roasters

While most booths were serving drinks and scooting attendees along, Portland’s Stumptown Coffee invited attendees to come in and take a load off. Their very chill hang out space was just the sort of respite needed when the sun came bearing down. Offering all manner of cold brew—canned, tapped, nitro’d, mocha-fied, you name it—the small little seating section was a great way to enjoy a tasty beverage while perusing city guides from Wildsam, an Austin-based maker of pocket-sized travel hot spots for some of America’s great cities, including Austin (obvz), New Orleans, Los Angeles, and Brooklyn.

And if a nice espresso was what you are looking for, Stumptown also brought a La Marzocco Linea Mini for traditional cafe-type drinks. Of all the booths, this was the closest to an actual coffee shop experience and we are here for it.

Irving Farm Coffee Roasters

Not to be outdone, NYC’s Irving Farm brought a very non-mobile espresso setup, including a two-group La Marzocco GB5 and a Mazzer Major espresso grinder. They brought with them the Los Alisos from producer Sergio Palermo in the Chirinos region, a coffee from Peru that made for a really balanced espresso, sweet but with a really nice body.

But what really stole the show at the Irving Farm booth was their Cold Brew Cola. A take on the Manhattan Special, Irving Farm topped off their tasty cold brew with a cascara syrup foam, peppermint, lavender, and rosemary, finished off with a garnish of Amarena cherries, one of which was dipped in real gold. REAL GOLD! The way it glimmered in the sun made me think twice about eating it. But I still ate it and now the net worth of my body is a little higher than it was before. The Cold Brew Cola was probably the most complex coffee cocktail I had today at the Roaster’s Village; the layers of herby, floral, sweet, effervescent flavors kept me gulping it down, even though it was legitimately my 12th coffee in about a two-hour stretch.

Intelligentsia Coffee

Chicago’s Intelligentsia really showed out for the Roaster’s Village. On top of a full-service espresso bar—serving Honey Badger espresso on a two-group La Marzocco Linea and Mahlkönig K30 grinder—the Intelli crew came with a full roster of Kilogram Teas, both iced and hot, chai lattes, and the Limelight, a cocktail consisting of cold coffee on tap, lime juice, and simple syrup all shaken together and topped with a splash of tonic.

It was the perfectly zippy drink I needed to perk me up after maybe getting a little too activated at all the SXSW parties the night previous.

Swiss Water

To truly love coffee, you must love it in all its iterations. Including decaf. And Swiss Water is making it easy for even caffeine fiends to admit they like decaf, thanks to their nitro cold brew floats. With a Stumptown-roasted coffee from Colombia in tow, Swiss Water is soft-serving their way into attendees’ hearts.

There is very little in the way of signage at the Swiss Water booth to let folks know that what they are drinking is indeed uncaffeinated, so it was always fun to watch the reactions when the big reveal is made mid-float. There were more than a few raised eyebrows and some very deep looks inward: “Do I like decaf?” Yes. Yes you do.

Vega Coffee

Vega Coffee operates under an entirely different coffee business model. All their coffees are roasted at origin and then shipped to consumers worldwide within five days from the roast date. Originally only offering coffee from their home base in Estelí, Nicaragua, Vega has very recently—like, a month ago—opened a second operation in Popayán, Colombia.

This farmer direct model allows Vega to pay workers at origin four to five times what they would normally make, co-founder Rob Terenzi told me as I was munching on some delicious 70% cacao Nicaraguan dark chocolate Vega had on offer at their booth. One such person is Diego Lopez Perez, one of the producers in Nicaragua who, thanks to financial support from Fabretto, was able to come to Austin and engage with the coffee-consuming public, with Terenzi acting as translator.

Tiny House Coffee

A last minute addition to the Roaster’s Village, Austin’s Tiny House Coffee is looking to shift perceptions about where you can find good coffee. Now in their second year of existence, Tiny House isn’t a roaster you’re going to find on the guest program at a multi-roaster cafe; they’re going to be in your offices, gas stations, CrossFit gyms, places where everyone drinks coffee but maybe not always the best coffee. “We think unconventional places are the frontier of specialty coffee,” co-founder Blake Thomas stated.

And indeed, Tiny House is meeting customers where they are, both literally and figuratively. Along with kegged nitro as well as bagged cold brew (and concentrate), Tiny House offers a variety of roast levels to ease coffee acolytes into more modern profiles. Folks may start their journey with Tiny House’s dark roasted Rwanda before getting adventurous and moving towards the medium roast, currently a coffee from Huila, Colombia. And then finally, they’re going full light roast with the lovely Ethiopia Limmu Kossa. Coffee is a journey, and Tiny House is there with you every step of the way.

Third Wave Water

Coffee is 98% water, so of course we needed someone here to give some love to the majority of what’s in all these cups. After a successful trip to the Shark Tank, Third Wave Water came out to help attendees make better coffee at home. Giving out samples of both their standard and espresso profile packets, TWW was probably the most recognizable booth at the festival, thanks to their 11 to 12 foot tall Third Wave Water tower.

Those brave enough to let their curiosity lead them toward the tower were rewarded with a refreshing quaff of that hydrating elixir at the Third Wave Water fountain, dispensing ideal water for coffee, of course. As of press time, nearly 500 plastic bottles had been saved from finding their way to a landfill thanks thank to the TWWFountain.

Upruit

Brooklyn-based Upruit doesn’t consider themselves to be a coffee company; they are a carbonated tonic beverage company, who happens to have coffee in all their refreshing elixirs. With flavor options like Meyer Lemonade, Ginger Hibiscus, and Mint Grapefruit, Upruit offers a delicious ready-to-drink option that will be crucial in the coming summer months.

There’s a lot coming down the pipe for Upruit. Along with a fourth flavor currently still in R&D, Upruit will be launching a guest roaster subscription box program, where they will be working with different roasters to come up with new drink options delivered directly to the consumer’s door. Upruit is currently available at stockists in the Northeast, Amazon, and through their website.

Deadstock Coffee

Portland is the sneaker capitol of the world. Deadstock Coffee in Portland then, it stands to reason, is the sneaker coffee shop capitol of the world. For their corner of the Roaster’s Village, Deadstock came with custom burnt orange Nike Vandals, designed in collaboration with Mike Merlino, a Deadstock customer from PDX who made the trip out here with owner Ian Williams and the rest of his uniformed crew. Always keeping a watchful eye for the stylishly shod, Williams was always out front, handing out Jason Markk Quick Wipes (a must-have for keeping your sneakers looking clean in the dusty pavilion) and pulling in folks to snap Polaroids of their sneakers, which will be posted on the Deadstock Instagram once they make it back to Portland.

Folks were equally mesmerized by what Williams calls (non-alcoholic) “adult Capri Suns,” pouch-style coffee drinks like the Lebronald Palmer—a black tea, coffee, and lemon based reinterpretation of the Arnold Palmer—and the Charged Up, with green tea, peach, and mango. I came for the Deadstock merch, specifically their crewneck sweatshirt, and stayed for a few splashes of the Lebronald. Both the drink and its namesake are the GOAT. Sorry Kobe.

Five Elephant

Hailing all the way from Berlin, Five Elephant made its way to Austin via Alpine, Texas, a town known mostly for its proximity to Marfa. Working the Five Elephant booth were the folks from Cedar Coffee & Supply, perhaps the best place to get coffee that far south and west in Texas.

Using a single Modbar espresso module, Five Elephant was serving up tasty espresso beverages as well as nitro cold brew and tons of cool merch, including totes and Department of Brewology prints.

And that’s a wrap! Coffee’s maiden voyage at #SXSW is in the books, but the content activation continues across Sprudge Media Network in the coming days. Look for much more coverage of the Roaster’s Village right here on Sprudge.com.

Special thanks to all the participating brands, event crews, guests, pedi-cab drivers, the entire crew at SXSW (but especially Brett Cannon, Brittani Mathis and Amy Wanke), and the teams at Port of Mokha, Department of Brewology and Caffe Medici for collaboarting with us on a big Monday night podcast party. Extra special thanks to Liz Turner and Wade Michael at Stumptown for letting us set up podcast remotes in their chill dessert lounge, and to Falcon Coffees for supporting this year’s coverage.

#sxsw

The post The Very Best Of The Roaster’s Village At South By Southwest appeared first on Sprudge.

seen 1st on http://sprudge.com

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killitwithbleach-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Goodbye to a World

I’m standing on the most sacred ground in American music history. In 2015 Bethel Woods, the site of the first Woodstock Fest, has been transformed into Mysteryland, a multisensory cultural experience for a new generation of starry-eyed electro lovers. Between two hundred-foot-high rainbow-painted horse heads Porter Robinson is concentrating on the instruments before him where DJ decks had been stationed all weekend. My face is drenched in the effervescent glow of the stage lights and suddenly I’m thinking, “Fuck, it’s happening again.” My nose tingles as I recognize the delicate melody that gradually swells into a triumphant wall of sound. The bastard has me tearing up for the second time this set. When the towering euphony reduces to four crooned lines, I’m crying.

We’ll see creation come undone

These bones that bound us will be gone

We’ll stir our spirits ‘til we’re one

Then soft as shadows we’ll become

The lyrics don’t conjure any particular memory or evoke any particular emotion, but rather elicit the response of experiencing vivid beauty. “Sea of Voices” was Porter Robinson’s homecoming announcement, telling the world that the year-long hiatus, his recession to his parents’ home in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, was over. (Robinson, 2014)

Porter Robinson’s ascension to EDM superstardom was more a series of snatched opportunities than a pursuit. A 12-year-old recluse fascinated by role-playing and rhythm video games, he began trying to re-create his favorite 8-bit tunes on a pirated copy of Sony’s ACID software. By posting his unripe productions on Internet forums he found a mentor in vet producer Kyrandian, who pushed Porter until out popped a Beatport number one. “Say My Name” was a bona fide electro house banger, and at 16, Porter was instantaneously inundated with requests to DJ parties around the country. DJ culture was totally foreign to the small-city Carolina boy and clubs were uncharted territory until he started performing in them. One year later he wrangled Ultra Music Fest, South by Southwest, and three Electric Daisy Carnivals on his first headlining EP tour. One year after that, he charted Billboard. (in Fusilli, 2012)

Oblivious to the dominating Dutch house sound of the first wave of the EDM takeover, Porter’s 2010 to 2011 singles were influenced by the music that raised him: chiptune, trance, IDM (intelligent dance music) and Japanese electro hyperpop from the interactive video game Dance Dance Revolution. The result was a moderately eclectic soundboard within the typical 128-BPM four-on-the-floor electro house format, which he coined “complextro.” It was a style defined by its lack of definition and an emphasis on detail, which Porter thought characterized the work of some of his biggest inspirations, Wolfgang Gartner, DirtyLoud, and Skrillex. Porter prematurely enlisted himself as another purveyor of complextro while these early singles—though inspired by several genres—still fit snugly into the electro house casing. (in Fusilli, 2012) That is, until he wrote “Language.” With its trance breakdowns, glitched-out buildups, and an ambient vocal interlude between progressive house drops, it defied the structural and tonal conventions of electro house. Finally, Porter had fulfilled his own prophecy. He was a complextro artist. The summer of 2012 it was impossible to avoid “Language” at any major festival. If you knew at this point what the letters E-D-M stood for, you knew Porter Robinson’s name.

It’s the all-American name of the fresh new face of the American dream, although as far as faces go, our 19-year-old protagonist hasn’t quite grown into his yet. Porter sits opposite his Billboard interviewer at Coachella, a tan, tattooed human stamp of the word “bro.” In the same frame, Porter’s skin appears blanched and his shoulders permanently hunched over from years of living behind the blue light of a computer screen. His upper lip is shadowed by sweat and baby hairs. As Porter recites responses about his age and influences, he absentmindedly slackens his mic hand so the audio feed fades in and out. Once Billboard Bro has filled his question quota, he flashes a farewell smile at the camera. Porter is sheepishly thanking the camera he thinks has been filming him this whole time, and you have to wonder if socializing is something he ever enjoys. (Brooks, 2012)

In between “Say My Name” and “Language” Porter Robinson made a crucial decision. With Gesaffelstein and Brodinski added to his roster of idols in 2011, he flirted with the idea of making a sharp left turn into tech house, a hybrid of mechanical techno percussion and groove-infused house. (Brooks, 2012)(in easylove Records, 2010) After all, his proclaimed main objective at the time was to “maximize energy and write a song that was perfect for the dance floor,” an idea he traversed in the 2011 Spitfire EP with two dubstep tracks and the crassly aggressive moombahton number “100% In the Bitch.” (in Fusilli, 2012) But something was missing. The constraints of music that functions solely to energize the body left him yearning for a sound that would satisfy the soul. Goodbye tech house, hello emotional introspection. The uplifting and anthemic “Language,” his first true complextro track, was also his first artistic expression of sincerity. Its chart-topping success was all Porter needed to start a new chapter of his career: the decision for beauty.

“Easy” was the confirmation that the Porter we knew, booty-shake-maker big-beat-banger Porter, was never coming back. A collab with fellow touring producer Mat Zo, “Easy” one-upped “Language” in emotionally uplifting power. By connecting with his fans on a deeper, more personal level, it seemed Porter had unearthed his true identity as an artist over entertainer. He was gaining momentum. And then he disappeared.

The decision to abandon the DJ culture that nurtured him peaked in late 2012 when he was touring with Mat Zo, “Easy” in development. “I remember being in the back of my tour bus, and we were all just listening to our favorite music and sharing tracks, and we did that for an hour, and there was not a single dance record that any of us wanted to play for each other.” (in Knaggs, 2014) EDM was losing its appeal. Porter was becoming fed up with the creative limitations of dance music as functional entertainment, the hackneyed structure that builds and releases for the sole purpose of partying. The fear of creative stagnation, which he frequently refers to as “the enemy” in interviews, prompted a retreat to Chapel Hill. “I’m going to go back and listen to every album that inspired me and figure out what it is that I loved about that stuff, and try to channel this all into something that’s really me.” (Robinson, 2014) No interviews, no tours—he dissolved back into the Internet so that the only time we saw his face was in hieroglyphics, 【＝◈︿��＝】. If Porter hadn’t withdrawn at his peak, we might’ve lost interest in that year of Soundcloud inactivity and festival absence. But we didn’t. We were hungrily awaiting the big reveal.

Worlds was Porter Robinson’s dissent from EDM, but it materialized less as a middle finger than a hug. It wasn’t 21-year-old Porter who emerged from the blue light portal of his parents’ basement, it was 12-year-old Porter, the boy consumed by the various universes of massive multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPGs). (in Knaggs, 2014) Porter constructed Worlds as a universe with different doors, where you could enter Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time or Diablo, Mario 64 or World of Warcraft, enter the fictional fantasy that he’d been living while “Say My Name” was still in the making. He forged a sonic trip down memory lane to the “cheesy 2000-era pop rock,” the late-90s/early-2000s video game chiptunes trapped in 8 bits, and the Japanese media that defined his childhood. To effectively and obviously reference this era in Worlds he went straight to the source, plucking out presets from General MIDI and SoundFonts, programs created in the 80s and 90s to facilitate seamless transitions from recorded to synthesized audio. (Robinson, 2014) “Most people would hear those and they wouldn’t think that it sounds retro, they would just think that it sounds bad. But for me, that’s moving the nostalgia forward.” (Robinson, 2014) This conglomerate of “retro” and contemporary synthesized sounds gives the album a timeless quality. Stadium-sized snare hits à la Phil Collins dance with unfamiliar modernity through advanced glitching effects. Every human voice on the album—including the many guest artists—is processed with an ethereal futurism. The album’s keyword was ‘escapism,’ the medium a projection of our imaginations. (Robinson, 2014)

In contrast to the discordant hues of the spitfire album cover, Worlds displays pastel softness. Deviating from the rapid-fire 128 to 140 BPM pace of Spitfire. Worlds hovers mostly around 90. Although 128 BPM rhythms do occur, they project a refined delicacy, as in the case of “Sea of Voices,” which actually feels like it floats through 32 BPM. If you were looking for a dance floor banger, Worlds was not the place to look. Crowds wouldn’t jump up and down at his shows anymore, but pulse the air with their outstretched hands, embracing each other affectionately and swaying in sensual undulations.

“Sad Machine” emerged as the immediate hit. An infectious opening hook carries the intro into Porter’s most singable verse yet. It’s a wistful post-apocalyptic duet between Porter and Avanna, a female character from a Japanese singing synthesis platform called Vocaloid. (Robinson, 2014) Boy meets robot. Boy and robot comfort each other in the wake of the end of the world. Porter embraced the role of vocalist out of necessity as the album’s due date rushed up, his vulnerable rawness as a singer contrasting with his computerized counterpart. (Robinson, 2014) His reference to Avanna in interviews as “she” and “her” is more endearing, rather than disturbing or pathetic, and he could care less that some label him an internet-certified pussy. “The best hate tweet I ever got was ‘hey loser go hang out with your imaginary robot girl’ I was like hell yes this dude gets it.” (twitter.com) K-k-k-kawaii, Porter!

Avanna resurfaces in tracks like “Fresh Static Snow” and “Goodbye to a World,” though not in the most Japanese of all, “Flicker.” In her place, a text-to-speech program spits out a nonsensical, whimsical rap of seamlessly chopped up and reconnected album titles translated to Japanese, albums like Daft Punk’s Discovery, his all time favorite. (Robinson, 2014) This is one more example of how Porter cleverly repurposes his sources of musical inspiration directly into the product. “Flicker” is an ode to the Japanese ideal of the appreciation of beauty and color. He searches for the recreation of this ideal he’s absorbed from the timbre of Japanese video games through pensive breakdowns that bloom into optimistic chord progressions.

The most literal representation of Porter Robinson’s resignation from aggressively beat-driven EDM is “Fellow Feeling,” where a weeping violin multiplies into a mournful symphony worthy of a blockbuster soundtrack. The first two minutes of this elegant lament recall the piece Porter has claimed to be “the most beautiful song [he’s] ever heard,” the orchestral version of “Serenity” by Afternova, an expansion on a trance beat, within which also lurks the melody of “Language” and the movement of “Sea of Voices.” (in Harper, 2011) “Fellow Feeling” is conducted by a girl’s whispered narrative filled first with regret, then optimism.

I cried, for I didn’t think it could be true

That you and I might’ve always known one another

And that we could not only evoke,

But conjure a place of our own

And that everywhere that has ever existed

It was all in service for our dream

Now, please, hear what I hear

A chugging techno monster abruptly infiltrates the symphony, assaulting the vulnerability of the strings with mechanical grime.

Let me explain

This ugliness, this cruelty, this repulsiveness

It will all die out

And, now, I cry for all that is beautiful

This duel between the two conflicting aesthetics then morphs into a hard-hitting complextro beat guided by a driving side-chained kick drum. To Porter, this was the easiest way to declare his separation from the perfunctory functionality of dance music. The hybrid house climax at the end, though, references “Language” and “Easy” to make clear that mellifluous music at 128 BPM is still a possibility.

If you visit Porter Robinson’s Soundcloud page you will find it cleansed of the “ugliness” and “repulsiveness” to which he refers in “Fellow Feeling.” Missing are his moombahton and dubstep releases, the faux-complextro pre-“Language” singles, and the bass-heavy Spitfire remixes. The density and grit of these tracks cannot, in his mind, coexist with his newly refined artistry. I wonder if Porter can even listen to “100% In the Bitch” now without cringing at its vulgarity. As for Soundcloud’s music discovery function, he spends at least an hour daily searching the server for new ideas rather than “crazy production prowess.” Rejecting the negative connotation of the word ‘novelty,’ he embraces its implication of distinctiveness. “When I hear something that I’ve never heard before, I love that feeling, and I think that’s one of the greatest things about electronic music.” (Robinson, 2014)

The conception of the Worlds tour was as immense an effort as the album itself. Porter handed everyone in his art department a 20-page document with explicit instructions on the visual concept. Surrealism based on glitch and role-playing video games rather than trippy drug-inspired imagery was the goal. (Robinson, 2014) The outcome was a multi-screen cinematic journey through flashes of vibrant and prismatic glitches and Japanese calligraphy, skies of floating islands, pixilated flower fields, molten orbs, and the familiar forests we experience vicariously through recurring anime characters that leap, fly and fall through Porter’s low-poly imagination. Full immersion in his vision is essential, so he performs only original compositions edited for the sake of novelty, triggering samples on drum pads, playing dominant melodies on keys, and singing wherever possible. He defies the odds against a single DJ possessing so much virtuosic musicality. Inevitably, the experience begs the emotional participation of his audiences, which is guided by narrations, the most memorable of which is the following:

Every place you’ve ever imagined

It’s real

There is a fictional city in your

mind and you know every corner of it

Your mind is a world

Each of us is a place

This shit really takes you on a feel trip.

The conclusion of the album and the live show is Avanna’s swan song, “Goodbye to a World.” In the most heartbreaking instance of the overarching apocalyptic theme of Worlds, Avanna devolves literal bit by bit into her monotone death. The fragility that leads to worlds’ destruction references the MMPORGs so significant to Porter which, “once the company goes under, or the game is no longer profitable...these worlds are completely inaccessible. They basically just die.” (in Knaggs, 2014) I imagine young Porter’s eyes welling with tears as the server shuts down and he is forcibly returned to reality. “Worlds doesn’t really have a place in reality,” he tells us. (in Knaggs, 2014) As he grapples with the imminence of adulthood, he preserves a child-like fantasy. It’s a vessel of fiction and escapism, which is really the guiding spirit of EDM as a whole, though Worlds has liberated Porter from the shackles of the conventionally vapid modes of this ideology. As he noticed EDM curating its own obsolescence, he mapped out his immortality in an alternate universe with an open invitation and warm welcome for those of us who wish to join him.

Bibliography

Robinson, Porter. Porter Robinson on DJing and the State of EDM. YouTube. N.p., 12 Aug. 2014. Web.

10 Dec. 2015. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdzj2I0QgP8>.

Robinson, Porter. "A Powerhouse, And He's Not Yet 20." Interview by Jim Fusilli. The Wall Street

Journal. N.p., 4 July 2012. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <http://www.wsj.com/articles/

SB10001424052702304299704577502452164796814>.

Robinson, Porter. Porter Robinson Q&A @ Lollapalooza 2012. Interview by Jonathan Brooks. YouTube.

N.p., 4 Aug. 2012. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u--wXQB--00>.

Robinson, Porter. "New 'World' Order: Porter Robinson Interviewed." Interview by Rob Knaggs.

Clas. N.p., 11 June 2014. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <http://www.clashmusic.com/features/

new-world-order-porter-robinson-interviewed#view-gallery-image-2>.

Robinson, Porter. Porter Robinson Interview: 'EDM is entertainment, it's not art'. YouTube. N.p., 5

June 2014. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwOLDyJv-wI>.

Robinson, Porter. Porter Robinson on Video Games and Breaking Down Tracks from His Debut Album,

'Worlds'. YouTube. N.p., 11 Aug. 2014. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <https://www.youtube.com/

watch?v=UiRDqYxPSig>.

Robinson, Porter. EMC 2014: Keynote Porter Robinson: Changing the Game. Interview by Nick Thayer.

YouTube. N.p., 15 Dec. 2014. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <https://www.youtube.com/

watch?v=iPxfWmnRmyw>.

Robinson, Porter. "Porter Robinson Interview." easylove Records. N.p., 1 Nov. 2010. Web. 10 Dec.

2015. <http://www.easyloverecords.com/porter-robinson-interview/>.

Sachs, Elliot. "Porter Robinson Refuses to Work with Katy Perry." YourEDM. N.p., 10 Aug. 2012. Web.

10 Dec. 2015. <http://www.youredm.com/2012/08/20/

porter-robinson-refuses-to-work-with-katy-perry/>.

Robinson, Porter. "An Interview with Porter Robinson." Interview by Sarah Harper. Knight News. N.p.,

29 Oct. 2011. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <http://knightnews.com/2011/10/

an-interview-with-porter-robinson/>.

Robinson, Porter. "Q&A: Porter Robinson Loves SF, His Dogs, and Japan." Interview by Carlos Olin

Montalvo. SF Station. N.p., 12 Sept. 2014. Web. 10 Dec. 2015. <http://www.sfstation.com/2014/

09/12/porter-robsinson-san-francisco-dance-music/>.

#oldschoolpaper porterrobinson worlds edm japan japanese music electronicdancemusic

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oddlifescribbling-blog · 8 years ago

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A Literary Collage

Walking amidst a forest of giants in a castle by the sea; the crossing of the threshold brings with it an abrupt change from the distinct aromatic experience of brine to a jumble of sensations. Sweat, sugar, coffee, and old weatherworn woodwork comprise the unique experience of this place. I am led by my guardian deep within the complex, to a pavilion of wonders encompassed by a most marvelous and peculiar tune. Within this pavilion are all manner of fantastical beasts outfitted with tack and harness; upon which my protector places me upon my own chosen steed. The music shifts to a jollier tune with a fanfare projected from somewhere deep within. The entire pavilion spins as if under some spell, my chosen beast leaping to the rhythm of the song. In that moment, I knew, there was magic in this world.

Nine dead, twenty six injured. A cold blade brought down by the one who was supposed to be their advocate, their guardian. The murderer demanded reward for his deeds, for in his eyes the disabled were a burden upon society. Yet that was his profession; to care for those who were disabled. Barely touched upon by media, a reinforcing statement of the value of those whose lives were lost. Perhaps they agree. When value is valued only in terms of externalities, not valiance nor hue of the experience whom assign it; no wonder that silent population is a footnote to the whimsy and arcana of the caste of noble performance and sovereign squabbles.

The ocean reaches out to touch the earth; the full and pearlescent moon gazing down upon the world in nascent curiosity. Silver light dances upon the sable waters, waltzing with the dark depths and wondering when it’s gold and sanguine kin will visit these tides once again. Silence broken only by heartbeats and the roaring purr of playful, mercurial flows; quiet laughter at some misbegotten axiom. A spell or rite; sacrament spoken only in the comfort of the cold winds and ebony dreams. The dream tucks itself between the lapping waves and the shadows of the sky, turning to face the east as it slumbers once again, “Good Morning”

My little sister and I were brought to a strange building, magnificent in scope and grandeur. A palace, I considered, for only a palace could be so overflowing with bejeweled wonders and mysteries. Lines upon lines of crystal gates led into secluded lands that spellbinded me with their trinkets, garments, and oddities. Each portal led to its own world, some somber dressed in burnished wood and eggshell paint, other effervescent magenta and smelling lightly of flowers and the sea. Taken aback by wonders mortal minds were not meant to know, I darted away from my guardians, racing past oblivious giants as I tried to escape this pastel and marbled hellscape that had bewitched me so. When finally found, my ever present guardian scolded me for my weakness and insubordination, and we left the palace of a thousand gates, until another time.

One dead. An angel cast down by axiomatic mercenaries; pleading for the life of his charge. A city known for its poison paradise, strictures cruel and foul lessons enforced through the trigger when in fact no law of man nor god was broken upon that day. A man concerned with self, bearing only a toy in plastic ochre, required the willing sacrifice of his angel because of the negligent ignorance of those mercenaries charged with protecting that paradise. Fear had won that day, had one to add to its catalogue of casualties. Such siren song of cruelty is a tragedy for us all.

The full moon hangs low over the horizon of the City of Roses. Glittering stars cast their light up against the cloudy sky, some suspended on steel skeletons, others gates into the hidden stories of the city. Some stars soar through the winding branches that arch the lazy river, glittering in tones amber and scarlet. Magic graces this place, hidden in potions of bitter bean and crème, marketplaces of magicians who work their thaumaturgy into talismans against the tenebrous darkness in our hearts, and a garden whose wards are the sacred icons that bind the stories of this place together. Hidden spells and whispered prayers move like fog through the night, protecting from blinding cynicism within shadow of the valley of thorns. Like a coiling dragon the city breathes even as it sleeps, stars sparkling like jewels upon its back as it dreams of the stories yet to unfold within its fabled expanse. As this moment drifts away upon the winding river, I can see, magic is real.

#oddlifescribbling #writing #prose #collage essay

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years ago

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i mean i gathered that show!Magnus is also around 400yo but yeah they never confirmed. I just gathered that with the whole living with Asmodeus in edom for centuries thing he wouldnt have gone to peru. and after that he was in england so.... yeah. but i do know the incan empire lasted until 1572, no worries lol

hmmmgghhh now youve planted the idea of the warlocks having some kind of, idk, secret gathering in macchu picchu up until the 1900s or something. like Magnus and ragnor and cat and dot just going there to enjoy the peace and quiet and gossip like crazy probably. ugh i love it

can i just add tho that like ..... with macchu picchu being so high the idea of ppl portalling there is slightly hilarious to me cuz itd be like welcome to macchu picchu! u now have half the oxygen supply u did before with no getting used to. good luck! like i imagine they can also use magic to cure this so it wouldnt be too bad, which gives me the A-okay to laugh at the idea of alec nearly passing out once they get there because he didnt know eirudhdjdjdjd and magnus is just chuckling at his expense for minutes on end and alec glares at him all like "how dare u" and magnus is like "im sorry dear, that must have been quite the frighten, i forgot" but he cant stop laughing at the look on alecs face and eventually alec stops the pretense and laughs as well and magnus' smile after that is brilliant

and while i 100% hear you and like yeah definitely have them sneak into macchu picchu at night like nobody's business to watch the stars surrounded by the beautiful quiet city i was just about to add that like ..... cities like buenos aires and salvador (in Brazil) and macchu picchu and such are for their more lively, effervescent dates, because Alec finds it all amazing and Magnus finds it envigorating to see different cultures, specially ones so lively and ancient and blooming with music and joy such as latinoamerican cultures (which is why i think theyd come here pretty regularly) with so many street artists and food and all..... but when they want to have more quiet dates, after like a stressful week when really all they wanna do is get away from the shadowhunter craze and take some time just to like bask in each other and maybe take a walk around and be lazy and enjoy the peace and quiet??? they go to Uruguay. im thinking colonia del sacramento specifically because its so..... nice. theres the sea which let me tell you is so beautiful in there and there are so many spots where u can just. sit by the trees and watch the sea and sky you know. and then if they wanted to they could take a walk and its so quiet and peaceful in there, and the city is so beautiful and uggghhh. and theres all the stray dogs and cats ppl take care of that they could pet and generally be cute over and maybe even drink some mate cuz uruguayans are all about that shit and sometimes they might even have some nice chats with the locals but its mostly a place where they can be absolutely unbothered, away from everything and enjoying peace. and bonus points because uruguay is such a progressive country they get to like hold hands and all without worrying too much, just feeling in their element u kno? ugh i love it. and then just finding a nice isolated spot where they can cuddle (magnus pressed against alecs chest, alecs long long legs wrapped around him, alec absentmindedly stroking his hair, magnus being super tactile and like he has buzzed hair which let me tell u feels amazing when touched so hes like all content and relaxed and purring against alec) and talk about shit and not worry a single bit? marvellous, absolutely spectacular beyond words

also yeah magnus loves ceviche (like any other human being in their right head) and alec is just like idk anything where one of the ingredients is tiger's milk sounds offputting to me. and magnus is like ALEXANDER IT'S NOT ACTUALLY MILK FROM A TIGER. well why is it called tiger's milk then?????? Alexander oh my god. anyway he orders ceviche every time and demands that alec tries it and alec likes it but doesnt really love it u kno but he loves seeing the content look in magnus' face when he eats it and feeds alec some and alec is no hate criminal so he wont deprive magnus of that. i am so soft rn i could die

also YES the markets!!!!!! i live for this shit, imagine the sheer shock and confusion in alecs face when he sees the goddamn corn like. kdjdjdifi and all the types of potatoes too. i love ppls im ppls reaction to that its just like BRIGHT PURPLE CORN??????? okay. and yeah magnus knows its pretty much rude not to try and get a lower price but in the end hes like "all right, guess ill have to pay u double then" sjdjdj and after seeing him go through this routine enough times alec is so amused and can probably recite it by heart and sometimes when hes feeling particularly gushy about how much he Really Loves Magnus he will talk for like hours on end about how smooth Magnus is about the whole thing, upping the price like nobody's business and being generally charming and talking to everyone and managing to sneak compliments and all. he just loves the shops and the people and the food and so does Alec even if he still has a harder time connecting to it. magnus is delighted the first time Alec steps in and tries to help him get a "lower" price and even more so when he draws magnus' attention to one of the booths that has some ingredient he just knows magnus is gonna love - and hes always right about it too. just. jejdhdudj yes to all of this

and well what're u waiting for???? Tell me about all of these

not to be all like mi latinoamérica querida or anything but can you imagine a malec date in buenos aires? with all these crochet thingies they put on trees and all the street artists everywhere and these cheeky tourist-y tango dancers on the street? magnus being tipped over dramatically and taking pics, smiling delightedly and alec just looks at him like he invented the damn stars. they eat and laugh and of course magnus speaks fluent spanish and alec fucking sucks so bad. he daBbLES but really izzys the one whos good at languages and he struggles a lot and its so fucking funny. and they eat alfajores and magnus' fancy ass is all like ah yes the delicacy of argentinian dulce de leche theres nothing quite like it. and alec is just like hey miss can i buy this in bulk. and its fun because buenos aires is so lively and effervescent and shit and theyre giggling and being dorky and when they get back alec is all like "yeah i loved it. the citys so beautiful, it reminds me of you" like dont touch me okay im very emotional rn

#oh good yeah inca kola sucks its fucking awful i hate it i tried it one (1) time like lets see what this radioactive-piss looking shit #is all about #and it was terrible #but idk if ur peruvian or what so i wouldnt want to be mauled to death or something #the peruvian ppl ive met are..... protective #also im not argentinian but i do love argentina and have been there a few times #im brazilian #i do have a lot of different brazilian cities id love to see them visiting tho so #were going through the whole damn map babe!!#sh #malec #long post

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