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rusteddreamsstories · 10 months ago

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The Indifferent World

Summary: The tale of a person who falls into another world with an entirely different set of physics. A cosmic entity is soon to eat the sun and it is up to her to change the world's thinking by her very presence in time to change it's fabric and to save it. (Based on a dream I had, old work).

The Indifferent World Shadsie

“My universe doesn’t work this way.”

“How, pray tell, does it work?”

“It is mostly indifferent.”

The man guiding Kris gave her a perplexed look, furrowing his brow even as he passed a viciously-pointed stave into her hands. Explaining “home” had been hard enough so far in a world where the laws of physics as Kris had known them seemed to be at work only in selective intervals. Certainly swords and poleaxes worked the same way here as they did at home, as did horses and wind and the general layout of architecture. Gravity worked, for the most part, and the birds looked and worked like normal birds although the young woman had found some things to use as improbable gliders when trying to escape the ramparts of the castle where she was being held. She’d have probably broken bones if that aspect hadn’t been at least a little bit as “cartoonish” as it was, although she was caught and brought back again, anyway.

She was not treated poorly here, quite the opposite, but she wished to go home. There had to be a way, she only had to find it and suspected it lay somewhere in the Eastern Woods, where she had first arrived. There were no light portals or swirly things. She suspected she was asleep because her arrival here seemed to coincide with her getting droopy-eyed while doing a painting. Around-and-around her brush went over a circle of yellow-white paint representing a fading sun in a darkened sky – around-and-around until she’d felt as if she’d been drawn into the world of the painting, stepping out into a dappled wood.

She vaguely remembered an old book series she’d read. Yeah, the Pevensie children got into Narnia by staring at a painting in one of those Faerie stories. Kris had been actually creating a painting. She was sure she was not high at the time: At least as not as long as fumes from the linseed oil and turpentine weren’t getting to her too much. She always worked in well-ventilated areas. She was also pretty sure that this wasn’t Narnia.

Her captors called their world “Earth.” It wasn’t home, though - it definitely wasn’t home.

When she’d found herself fully upright rather than sitting at her easel and her boots were crunching the dried detritus of a forest floor, what she could see beyond the upper trees was blue. It wasn’t the sky of her painting, although the trees were similar. When the soldiers had arrested her and taken her out into the fields surrounding Highwater Castle, the sky was as blue as any she’d seen, dotted with puffy clouds that seemed to mirror the numerous sheep grazing the lawns.

The sky was rust-bloody red now and the sun was dim. Pietro, the guardsman with her, regarded her seriously in the stormlight as he strapped plates of armor over her arms and shins. “How is it different?” he asked, wondering if she had some kind of answer that would win the coming battle. Perhaps he was trying to goad her, to get her mind to work the way the people here wanted it to.

“For one thing,” she answered, “our sun and the light that it gives us is not tied to the welfare of a maiden.”

“Even so, Outlander, if you continue to value your life,” the man said with a shiver, “you will assist in protecting Lady Umbra – even if you do not think she should exist.”

Kris could not tell anyone entirely how she’d wound up at a Medieval-looking fortress in some alternate version of Earth and the Universe – or wherever she was. She’d tried waking up several times. Pain was real here and she could tell time and read books without the numbers and words jumbling together. She pinched herself and water was cold and she was still here. Most things worked by regular logic, save those few things that were very different, but differed in the way of a constructed world – like that of a book or a game or a film. The “rules,” even the ones that did not make sense to her, were consistent. One thing that she knew that was strangest of things about this place was that all the people here spoke and wrote in perfect English in the style of her era, so she had no problem communicating here.

The other thing she knew was that the world was about to end.

She looked up at the wounded sky to the dying sun. People were screaming behind her. There were rally-shouts to defend the castle and its inmost sanctum where the ailing Sun Maiden was guarded. The clouds moved like black smoke over the red face of the sky. Kris could have sworn she saw the darkest of them form into a maw with fangs briefly over the sun before a wind blew them back into something paler and more amorphous. The forces of Darkness had been winning most of the battles of late. Smoke-Ghosts, eyeless beasts and human troops of surrounding kingdoms who were loyal to the End for their own mysterious reasons had taken the mountain fortresses and were quickly encroaching upon the Center of the World. The war seemed nearly at an end, one that would see humankind and most animal and plant life defeated and eventually extinct.

The Beast of Entropy was nearly upon the Kingdom of Light. If the Beast swallowed up the Maiden or if she died from the bombardment of malevolent energies surrounding them all, the sun itself would die forever, flickering out like the flame of a spent candle. First would come the heat as the Beast would revel in his destruction, stirring up the fire-mountains with his great paws. Of course, the people would scramble to build fires to keep themselves warm and lit for as long as possible from any consumable source, fighting the Night as living things do by mad instinct. After that, the cold would come and then the bitter deep chill. After that the silence would fall.

The laughter of Entropy filled the air, although nothing was seen of any great creature. Kris wondered at what the personification of a cosmic force was supposed to look like, anyway. The myths she’d been told described this particular god as being both draconic and catlike, but that he could take the form of any fear. It seemed kind of hokey to Kris. Then again, just a few days ago she’d met a young woman close to her age whose fate was connected to the sun and whose life guaranteed its place in the sky.

As soon as she’d arrived in this world, she’d been taken by soldiers to Highwater Castle where the local royalty were inexplicably quick to make friends with her. Apparently, she was a part of some sort of prophecy. They’d spoke of having “Outworlders” arrive before – typically from other planets with other suns that were guarded by Maidens. Only a few came from places such as hers where the laws were different and it was only people who came from these places that had a chance, they believed, of “breaking the Cycle.”

She was set to be one of the guardians of a woman named Lady Umbra. She’d met Glace and Matilda, the girls’ other bodyguards and both natives of the land. Glace experimented in something she called “science” that seemed much more to Kris like magic – mainly in developing technology to control her naturally-occurring ice-powers. Matilda was a standard ax-wielding warrioress. Their charge, the Lady Umbra, was a pale-skinned, dark-haired, dark eyed youth and was slated to succeed the previous Keeper of the Sun. She was to become nothing less than a goddess – “Sol-53,” to be precise, after her powers fully manifested and after a ceremony. “Sol-52,” her predecessor, had passed away recently from the Darkness-sickness before the girl could become a full-fledged replacement.

The Beast of Entropy had sensed this weakness and had sped across the Void to begin his assault upon this Earth’s sun and its light.

Lady Umbra had not been trained to her destiny specifically. She was, however, since birth, heavily scrutinized along with many other girls as a member of a genetic line from which any member displaying certain attributes could be chosen. Her mother and father had named her “Umbra” – a name denoting shadows – specifically to try to spare her the “blessing” of being chosen to become a goddess of the sun. Unfortunately for her, she had the correct traits for it in the end and had been born in a world enslaved to Fate.

“So you are the latest one they dragged in to try to break the chains of Fate?” Umbra asked as she poured Kris a dainty cup of tea from a delicate ceramic teapot painted with pink roses. Kris took the cup, unsure of proper teatime etiquette. She’d had plenty of tea in her time, but it was typically Southern iced sweet-tea or it was hot but taken in a huge coffee mug because even while Kris preferred tea to coffee, she was a less-than-polite American who liked all drinks that sat beside her while she worked to be nice and big for the sake of not having to take refills.

“I guess so,” she replied. “I just really want to go home, actually. Even exploring this world outside these halls and towers would be nice, but it seems that I am a prisoner until I serve some kind of use. I am confused by all of this.”

“Everyone is,” Umbra said as she sipped her cup of spiced oolong. “The king and the priests just love when someone crosses over from a world where stars are not connected to people such as me and you said that you come from such a place, correct?”

“I do,” Kris answered. “Where I come from, the sun is a mass of fire.” She wasn’t entirely sure if this was the correct terminology – she was certain that it wasn’t and that it would make anyone she knew who had any kind of interest in even rudimentary astrophysics tear their hair out in frustration with her. She thought it best to keep the conversation simple. “What I learned in my childhood schooling, anyway, is my world’s sun is a ball of burning gases. It sometimes flares up, causing problems in our… communication-magic. But… it’s not connected to anyone’s life. Our lives depend upon it, but it doesn’t depend upon us at all. It was there before we were and will spin on long after we are gone. It’s set to die one day, but long in the future – likely after my people will meet extinction by natural causes or after our descendants have colonized other worlds and have transformed into different kinds of beings.”

“Our priests pray for our world to become such an indifferent one.” Umbra stated.

“What’s funny,” Kris replied, “Is that so many of my people get the existential shivers when they think of how indifferent our universe is to them. The sun and the stars will spin on long after them. Some of the distant stars they see in the sky are long dead, themselves, the light oblivious to their watching even if those stars were ever conscious to begin with. Entropy exists, but not as a beast with a will to destroy. It is indifferent, as well.”

“Does your world not have gods?”

“We have gods… sort of. There are many kinds of beliefs in my world, many gods, one, none… It’s nothing like what this world runs under. No one seems to be sure of anything and people who act all cocksure that only they are right are the people I’m most suspicious of. That’s just my personal view, though.”

“Hmmm.”

“What I’m trying to say is that, no, we do not have Sun Maidens or Star Maidens. If you’d been born in my world, the sun would give its light with or without you. You wouldn’t have any powers over it. You’d have to find some other thing to carry for people to count on you.”

Kris said this last bit with a smile, a full believer in the concept of kindness carrying kindness and that no one was ever a hero or a villain on their own, but shaped by the circumstances and other people in their lives. She’d wanted to find something to do to be helpful to the world. So far, she was only an art student, having chosen that field over anything her parents thought was useful. Her aunt who’d once been a graphic designer had actually tried to discourage her, telling her that the working world with that was a “plane full of predators” that would chew her up and spit her out. It was true that she could have tried for something better suited to her world like becoming a doctor or joining the military – things most people thought “counted,” but she was drawn to the pencil and the paintbrush in a way that wouldn’t’ be denied. She mused that she might be as much a prisoner to her “calling” as the Sun Maiden was to hers.

The difference, of course, was that her curses were taken on by choice. They had not been forced upon her.

“So, in your world, I would be free…” Umbra said softly.

“Probably not entirely,” Kris said, “because no one is. Limits exist everywhere, even in my world, but, as much as any living creature can have freedom, I’m sure you would be free if you’d lived in my world.”

“I never asked to become the sun,” Umbra said ruefully. “I never asked to be its light in human form upon the Earth, to convey to it the needs of the people. Those are the duties set before me once I become strong. The sun will give its power to me to protect my people with divine Fire and Light, to protect my people from the Darkness. I will be given higher regard than the king and the queen – but I never wanted it. My parents are merchants. Is it strange that I desired a peasant’s life?”

“Not at all.”

“I like chickens. I wanted just to have a cottage somewhere and raise chickens. I know all about different breeds and the different kinds of eggs they lay. I’m not ashamed to clean a coop.”

“A simple life is as proud as any other.”

“I also wanted to know what having sex might be like someday.”

Kris snorted and spit out all of her tea.

Umbra laughed. “Too blunt?”

“A little. You mean, you dreamed of marriage to some gallant young man and all that?”

“Not necessarily. As the Sun Keeper, I am slated to remain ‘pure.’ It’s said that when the sun chose young men that it was the same deal for them – the whole virginity thing.”

“I’ve never actually been much interested in losing it in a hurry, myself,” Kris said. “I haven’t found the right person, I guess, but since I became an adult, I’ve at least had the choice in that.”

Matilda entered the room without knocking. “It is time your bed rest, M’Lady,” she told Umbra.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the girl replied.

“The Outworlder shall leave to her own quarters at once.”

With a glare, Kris departed as asked, to be led by Glace, who was waiting at the door. Neither of them trusted her completely, but they seemed to have an awareness that she could be the key to their world’s salvation – and the salvation of their beloved young mistress.

Kris thought about it as she was taken back to her chambers. She was a prisoner not because she was a threat, but because she was a commodity. In her months here, she had learned all she could – or at least, all that her captors would tell her.

People from worlds without celestial Keepers were said to potentially possess the power to undo the cosmic Fate simply by not believing in it. There was some prophecy in the ancient archives that held that when the right Outworlder came along, one coming from a world in which the sun, the moon and the stars operated completely without tether to any mortal’s soul nor to any of the cities or kingdoms, their sheer disbelief in the world they now walked in could loose the sun and free its goddess to remain a mortal.

In other words, it was Kris’ own logic, imagination and her very longing for her own world that could defeat the ages-old threat of the willful Beast of Entropy.

As it was, the sun and the Light were vulnerable prey. Even when any Sun Keeper came into her own as a physical goddess, there were things that could kill her – such as sicknesses with their origins in dark energies. The blades of swords might bounce off her milk-soft skin when she came to that point, but the energies were always present and were always in danger of growing – particularly with their connections with the morality of the local people and their morale in general.

As it was, Lady Umbra was still fully mortal. She felt not only the bombardment of cruel energies, but could be slain by any means that would kill any other young girl.

Kris tried for the sake of them all to imagine herself out of this quagmire. She thought of home and let her sickness for it consume her hours in hopes that she would find it, but also that this world would become more like it. This was an entire world full of desperate people. She could not blame them for trying to use her. It was also a fact that she liked Lady Umbra a great deal. Her visits with the kind, intelligent and occasionally blunt young woman were the highlight of her days even as the girl was ill often and the skies grew ever darker.

Kris tried to imagine the Beast away, but the more she tried, the more she saw his shadow on the moon and the more she saw him in the clouds. The ancient scribes that had illustrated the ancient texts she was given to read did not help. They’d drawn the damnable thing – as a dragon mixed with a cat, full of horns and hair and razor-spines jutting off its shoulders. It was a big-eared whiskered demon.

The artist imagined the creature taking the sun up as ball and batting it around like a cat does with a toy. She immediately regretted it when she was sure she saw the noonday sun flicker outside her tower window. No, the sun was still there and not being batted around like a ball. There was a cry from Lady Umbra’s chamber, as if the girl was having a nightmare.

No… she couldn’t give him power. She couldn’t give the ways of this world power. She had to free it. She was in a world that was unbelievable. It was a world like a book, a game or a film. “This cannot be a real world,” she told herself, “That is the only way I can change it – if I keep thinking of it as unreal.”

She was escorted to the castle’s altar-area where the Kingdom of Light’s priests prayed for an indifferent world – not caring that such a world could make someone feel utterly alone. Kris did wish she could go back to being insignificant again. She preferred it to having a world set upon her shoulders.

When the Smoke-Ghosts and the Dark Alliance breached the Kingdom of Light’s mountain passes, they came upon Castle Highwater like a wave. This is how Kris the Outworlder found herself in the broken armory with the old soldier named Pietro. This was how she found herself trying to explain what she already had tried to convey to many others.

She thanked the man and took spear he’d given her. She ran back toward Umbra’s chambers over rubble and the ruin. Her ears rang with cannon-fire as Hightower’s soldiers tried to combat the physical dimensions of the onslaught. She looked above and saw the clouds form into lithe and dark cat-shapes to play and dance and hide in a disturbing manner.

Kris tried to avoid the fighting, not being trained from youth in melee combat in the same manner as the men defending the fortress. She was not a magical creature, either and felt like she was carrying the spear as a prop. She decapitated a Smoke-Ghost and watched it dissipate into the ether. Two formed from the shimmering air in its place.

A roar shook the castle and a wall fell. Instead of running from the disaster, she ran toward it because she spied Lady Umbra – carried in the arms of Glace, who was fighting off a group of eyeless lizards with the ice-channeling guns on her wrists.

“I am trying as hard as I can to make sense of this!” Kris called as she ran toward the two. “I am so sorry! My mind cannot seem to stop this!”

“Don’t worry, just fight!” Glace shouted.

Kris held her spear out before her, certain that if this was a dream that it must be her death-dream, either that or she was going to awaken as soon as she died – that tended to happen to her whenever she dreamed of her own death, which was why she never believed in that whole “You die in your dream, you die in real life” malarkey. At the same time, she did care – at least for Umbra – just a little and did not want to just vanish and leave the girl to her fate.

That was when the smoke of hundreds of Smoke-Ghosts turned upon the wind and gathered into an enormous, beastly shape. It roared and was blacker than black, deeper than night – Kris felt like she was staring into a black hole when she beheld its flowing fur which strangely shimmered in the outlines of its windblown locks. It was a giant cat – though its muzzle was burly and wide, resembling the snout and mouth on certain kinds of dogs. It had four long horns like those of a four-horned ram, two upright, two curved back and forward like hooks. Its eyes glowed like a pale winter moon until they flashed “out” into a deeper black-hole void than its wild hair.

It rounded upon the figures standing in the rubble of the castle, including Kris. She trembled. She found within herself a fiery will, a sudden surge of passion.

“You aren’t supposed to exist!” she screamed. “You are just a force! You shouldn’t have a will of your own! You are no breathing beast!”

Before she knew what she was doing, she was running forward with her spear and thrust it right into the giant cat-nose of the Beast of Entropy. It shook its great head in annoyance and shifted around her, opening its maw and showing its teeth. When she thought she hadn’t seen anything blacker, she beheld the Beast’s throat.

The last thing she heard was a horrific crunch as Light went out. ________________________________________________________

Kris and Pietro wandered around for neither of them knew how long – hours or days. The last survivors of Highwater were scattered and they didn’t see another soul, even when they could find enough fuel for torches.

The image of Lady Umbra and her guardian Glace at once being taken by Entropy haunted Kris’ memory. It was her last flash of daylight-sight before the Darkness had fallen like iron. She did not know why the creature left her alone – perhaps it was because he had gotten what he’d came to this world for. The sun had vanished in an instant, dying with the Maiden. None could tell what was going on in the precious little light to see by the torches and fires raging on the castle grounds in this new deep night. Entropy and his forces had vanished completely, leaving the world to die off. Presumably, he was off to other planets that hung in this universe, to other suns, to devour other Sun Maidens.

Pietro, the soldier, didn’t even have the will to kill her. She had failed to protect Lady Umbra, but all he could do was to walk with her and to rest at will, not that there was anywhere to go.

Kris watched her companion lay down beyond the last embers of a dying campfire. The last bits of orange glow upon the hills had long gone out. The heat of high summer was fading quickly, although Kris was surprised at how long it was lingering. She’d failed in her duty – the role having been thrust upon her without much knowledge aside.

She remembered the words that everyone had feared – “First the heat, then the cold, then the <i>deep chill</i> and then the silence.”

At present, the night was cavernous. The only light was from the pitiful campfire, losing the last of its fuel and of the distant stars. Perhaps other worlds in this universe would have better luck with their own Sun Keepers – if that is the way it worked. Kris wondered if any of those stars was the one connected to her Earth, shining into this universe somehow. If she could not go home she could at least dream of it.

It was strange, she thought, how so many of the people here had prayed for an indifferent world, a world like hers where the celestial bodies spun along without anyone’s life or death being involved and long after anyone’s lifespan. She thought, ruefully, that they had gotten an indifferent world of a differing kind. Entropy had his way – stalking in on cat-feet to pad away, leaving any survivors to an enduring darkness. The air was already growing cold enough for Kris to shiver beneath the wool blankets that she’d hastily grabbed along with the other early survivors, wondering when the shivering would fail to warm her body and wondering when she’d just go numb. She was already so tired.

“See you in the morning,” her companion said from behind the almost-dead fire. Both of them knew that there would be no actual morning. It was doubtful that either of them would get through the requisite sleeping hours.

The last of the summer crickets chirped – just one playing his song to some mate that would not hear him in the deepening darkness. Kris listened to the bright chirp-chirps until they grew more distant with a greater gap of time in between.

The chirping stopped and the silence fell.

#short story #fantasy #fantasy short story #apocalypse #isekai #the sun #sun #stories based on dreams #solar eclipse special!#solar eclipse #not written for the solar eclipse #this is very old work #I just thought it appropriate to post on this day

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tworoadsandapenny · 7 months ago

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What You Wish For: Epilogue: Leo

The first of my 2 epilogues. I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to write the whole night from Leo’s point of view. I know it takes away some of the stoic mystery from his portrayal in Raph’s version, but I think it sheds light on other things that make it worth the loss. I dunno. You be the judge.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He took off. Again. Even though I told him not to.

What is the point of being leader if I can’t get those following me to trust and obey the simplest of instructions?

I hear the grunts and groans of a fight from nearby and can’t stop the jolt of fear that bolts through my skin. I knew it. I knew this was a trap of some kind. Why else would these thugs leave the safety of their numbers to take off towards the inner city? And now they might have my brother in their claws.

“Raph!”

Finally finding the alley he’s in, I jump down, swords drawn, only to catch my brother just as he finishes punching the lights out of the last of a pile of Dragons, all now groaning at his feet in unconsciousness. A sigh of relief escapes me immediately; he’s not hurt. And if this was a trap, it was very poorly executed; any one of us could have taken out these few stragglers on our own. Guess my gut was wrong.

That doesn’t excuse his actions. But I’m glad he’s safe. “Raph, what are you doing?”

“Couple of scrawny ones got away. Didn’t want them missing out on the fun.”

My relief is quickly fading into irritation at his unapologetic attitude. “I told you not to go after them. We were supposed to stay and check the warehouse.” I glance back at the pile of thugs behind him, eyeing them to make sure they’re all still deep in unconsciousness.

Something still feels off, but I can’t put my finger on what.

“Don’t get your shell in a bunch, I was gonna head back once they were taken care of.”

I shake my head, trying to refocus. I’m sure it’s nothing. “You shouldn’t have left. The dragons aren’t going to let us have their new weapons shipment without a fight. They’re probably sending reinforcements. We need to get back and help Don and Mikey.”

He’s rolling his eyes at me again, which means a fight isn’t far off. What on earth he has to be angry about this time is far beyond me, but I brace for the impact.

“I said I was gonna head back. If you’re so worried about it, why’d you leave those two to deal with it alone?”

“Because you took off!” I’m doing it again, I’m letting him annoy me into getting angry and I hate when he does that. So I try to regain some composure. “And I didn’t want you out here fighting alone.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Leo! I can handle myself!”

I can see him start to clench his fists and I know this is only going to escalate before it dies, but we don’t have time for a full fledged feud right now. So I pull the leader card. “I told you not to go after them, Raph. It wasn’t a suggestion.”

The way his hands curl into a tighter fist as he freezes—looks like we’re not avoiding the fight. Great. Just great.

“Oh, I see what this is about. The Great Fearless Leader gave an order and the insignificant subordinate didn’t obey.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. The dramatic inner monologue he must be telling himself is beyond my understanding. I want nothing more than to explain why his actions were rash and without thought—that none of this has anything to do with him, but everything to do with us as a team—but Mike and Don are on their own and the Dragons probably called for backup, so there’s no time to get into it right now.

Lucky for him. “We’re going back. Now.”

“Was that a suggestion?”

He’s getting under my skin and he knows it. Why does he so desperately want to fight me? We’re in the middle of a mission, can’t he at least wait till we get home and everyone is safely in the lair? My tone no longer brooks an argument, but I’m sure I’ll still get one. “No. It wasn’t.”

“Screw you, Leo!”

And here we go.

“I’m not some lacky you can order around with the flick of a wrist!”

“I never said you were a lacky.”

“Yet you get pissed every time I don’t ask ‘how high’ whenever you tell me to jump!”

Not this again. “I’m the leader, Raph. It’s my job to give the orders!” And I don’t understand why he hates me for it.

“And don’t you just love pointing that out every chance you get.”

Oh for crying out—“We don’t have time for this.”

“No, of course not! There’s only ever time to berate your brothers, not explain your actions.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you!” I shout in his face before I can catch it. Shell, how is he always so good at getting me worked up enough to lose control? His eyes turn dark and I honestly can’t tell if he’s upset at what I said or smug that he finally got a rise out of me.

And something about all this still feels off.

“So that’s how it is, huh? The Great Leonardo knows all and doesn’t need to waste time explaining himself to the rest of us mere mortals.”

I hold in a sigh and try to explain. “That’s not what I—” but he’s in too much of a mood to let me finish.

“That’s exactly what you meant!”

He steps in closer, to be in intimidating I suppose. Or to make me see his anger up close. Either way, I stand my ground and let him talk. He clearly needs to let off some steam, so if it’ll get him to come along faster, I suppose I can stand and take it for a minute.

“That’s what you’re always about, isn’t it? Proving that you’re better than everybody else, that you’re smarter, stronger, and faster than everyone!”

Hurtful, but nothing new. I am fully aware of how much contempt my brother holds for me.

“And God forbid someone actually tries to measure up, you gotta knock ‘em down a peg to make yourself feel better!”

Now that… that was unexpected. I make sure to hide my surprise (and maybe a little hurt) behind my mask, taking a moment to keep my voice even. I should just let it go. We have to get back.

“You think you don’t measure up?”

He stops and I can instantly see the walls forming around him. He didn’t mean to say it, apparently.

“Where the hell did that come from!?”

And now he’s playing denial, which means I definitely wasn’t supposed to hear it. “You said ‘God forbid someone actually tries to measure up’, I assume you were talking about yourself.” I wait for a response, but when he offers none, I can’t help but nudge again. “You don’t think you measure up?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what—”

“I meant that you’re a selfish asshole and I’m done talkin’ about this.”

He starts up the building just as a droplet of rain hits my shell, but I’m still trying to understand what he just confessed so I barely notice the weather. I follow quickly. I know I should drop it, I know. “Raph wait—”

“I said I ain’t talkin’ about it no more! Back off Leo!”

But I don’t want him to think— "It has nothing to do with skill level, it’s about strategy. You left Mikey and Donnie wide open to attack.” But that’s not what I’m trying to say. How do I explain this? “We’re a team, Raph. We need to work together.”

He’s still walking away.

“Are you listening to me?” How do I make him understand? “You can’t go off grandstanding every time you dislike an order.” It’s not safe. How do I make him understand that I need him to be safe. “Raph, you need to—”

He turns on me with an anger in his eyes I’m not sure I’ve seen before. It makes me stop in my tracks. But I’m immediately distracted as a ghost of a feeling washes over every nerve in my body.

“I don’t need anything!”

Something is wrong. Something… I catch a wisp of movement out of the corner of my eye.

“I don’t need your orders!”

There. On the adjacent roof. Can’t look and give away that I’ve spotted him. But there’s a glint of something in his hands.

“I don’t need your leadership!”

A gun. Sniper. No…

NO!

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

“RAPH!”

My body jolts into action out of shear panic, ramming my shoulder into Raph’s side to push him as far away as I can. There’s an impossibly loud crack in the air as the weapon goes off.

No time to think.

Without stopping my momentum from shoving Raph, I step forward and spin on my heel, whipping my swords from their sheathes in one swift motion, and lance a katana towards the sniper with as much strength and speed as I possess, aiming right for his heart. It hits it’s mark, or slightly above it, and the Dragon is pinned to the chimney he must have been hiding behind.

It was a trap. I was right.

I should have listened to my instincts. Master Splinter is always telling me. Raph could have been shot because I wasn’t… because I wasn’t paying… Because I… I feel dizzy. The roof is spinning and I can’t make it stop. I grip my swords, trying to ground myself, but one hand isn’t on my sword, it’s on my stomach. There’s something warm running through it. I force my eyes to focus as I look down.

My hand is red.

I pull it from my plastron to see red oozing down my body.

I’m bleeding. Why am I bleeding?

Understanding comes impossibly slow as I stare at the red on my hand. I’ve been shot. Sniper managed to hit me. But was I fast enough to save—

“Leo?”

I turn enough to spot Raph staring at me with wide eyes. He looks shocked, but not injured. No blood that I can see. I close my eyes and breathe out the dread I’d been holding. At least he’s—

Pain suddenly erupts from my stomach, so abrupt and intense that I can’t get a handle on it. It fogs my vision and I can feel myself falling but I can’t seem to get my legs under me to catch myself.

A broad shoulder appears under my arm as my brother is now at my side, holding me up. “Leo!” My vision is still swimming too much to make out details, but the fear in his voice rings out crystal clear. I’d try to reassure him if I could speak around the pain. I feel him move my hand to get a look at the wound and I use the opportunity to breathe deep and refocus as best I can.

“It’s alright bro, I got you.”

My body accepts the invitation and leans heavily on him without my consent. I’m trying to get my legs under me, get the pain under control so I can talk. “There might be more.” I scan the rooftops around us quickly but don’t spot any other movement. Though my vision is still a bit blurry. “Check the perimeter, in case they—”

“Not a chance. I ain’t leavin’ you like this.”

I don’t argue, I don’t have the breath for it. And he’s right, I won’t last long bleeding the way I am. But if there’s another sniper around here, he’s leaving whether he wants to or not. I open my mouth to say as much as he lowers us to the ground when my lungs suddenly feel like they’re filled with water. The cough that follows is loud and wet, bringing the taste of copper to my lips and spilling down my chin.

This is bad.

I’m trying to tamp down the sting that fit caused when I catch a glimpse of Raph’s face; he looks terrified. I don’t think he’s trying to hide it, which is even more worrisome. He’s staring at the wound like it’s a nightmare come to life and I can’t think of a single thing to say in comfort.

I default to pragmatism. “Pressure.”

“What?”

I place my hand over his atop my stomach and press down. It takes much more effort than I expected to keep from screaming at the pain, but I manage, keeping my calm as best I can. “Keep… pressure.” My voice is giving me away. “Stop the bleeding.”

He seems to pause a moment before replying with a curt “I know” and pressing harder. I’m actually relieved to hear that tone in his voice.

My head is swimming again and I can’t tell if the world is spinning or I am.

Focus. Finish the mission. We need to get back to the others, make sure they’re okay. The Dragons might have set a trap there too, counting on us to split up.

“The warehouse… Mikey and Don—” more copper taste, but this time it’s harder to expel. I have to turn on my side so I don’t choke on my own blood.

Raph holds me steady as I find air again. “I know.”

He needs to check on them. “Raph—"

“Just shut up and save your breath, Fearless.” I don’t know why, but the name helps ground me a moment. “I’ll give ‘em a call, alright?”

Good. That’s good. I’d still prefer he go to the warehouse himself, but this is the next best thing. As he’s distracted with the phone, I allow myself a moment to grimace as another wave of pain washes over me. It’s getting duller… Probably means I’m getting numb. Or going into shock. Neither one is reassuring.

I’ll be okay. I have to be okay. I will not leave until I know my brothers are safe. I can’t.

I might not have a choice.

I inhale slowly. Exhale. Forcing that last thought away with focused breaths as Raph continues to fiddle with the phone. He hangs up and redials a few times, and with each passing minute I can feel my fear rising. Something’s happened at the warehouse, I’m sure of it. My gut may be spilling onto the roof, but it’s still insistent as ever.

Raph needs to go. I’m about to say as much when he finally speaks.

“Yeah Don. It’s—”

I can’t hear the other end of the conversation, but I can tell by Raph’s face that it’s not good.

“Don, what’s going—”

He’s cut off again.

“Yeah. Don he’s—”

I hear a muffled shout and don’t need to hear the words to know Donnie’s upset.

“He’s been shot.”

I hear a cry come through the speaker and my whole body tenses.

“Don?”

Something’s happened. We’re leaving. Now. But the minute I lift my head to stand, everything in me goes weak. I can barely move, there’s no way I’d be able to walk, let alone fight. But we have to do something. I grab Raph’s arm so he’ll look at me. The angry worry in his face speaks volumes.

“Don? Don, you there?”

A desperate fear seizes my body that makes me want to hurl. What if he’s—

“What the shell, Brainiac—”

He’s okay. Don’s okay. Relief swells through me with such force, I lose the rest of the conversation. Raph hangs up the phone and faces me again, the worry gone from his face but not his eyes. He was never good at hiding his emotions. Disguising them behind anger, sure, but not hiding them away.

“They’re on their way.”

“Are they—”

“—Fine. Just taking care of a few unexpected stragglers.”

I know he’s lying. They’re in trouble. And I’m too weak to do anything about it. But Raph could still help. If I can just convince him to leave me here…

“Don’t even think it.”

He knew what I would ask. I’m unexpectedly flattered that he knows me so well. But then he must know I’m right. “They need help.” I’m about as close to begging as I’ve ever come, but Raph is focused on my wound.

“I ain’t leavin’ Leo. I leave, you bleed out.”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the point. Another wave of pain crashes through me as I try to keep my wits. I look up to where the sniper lies motionless, fear creeping under my skin. “…What if…”

He catches my meaning and immediately jumps into denial. “They can handle themselves. Besides, what force in the universe has ever been able to pin Mikey down when he’s all hyped up?”

I smile, not only because the memories conjured are pure hilarity, but also because I can see the fear abate from Raph’s eyes momentarily. Making jokes at Mikey’s expense always seems to help him—

My body is suddenly lurching, everything in me working far too hard to expel whatever it is that’s blocking my lungs. The movement is painful, my throat feels scraped raw, but I close my eyes so Raph can’t see. I don’t want to scare him any more than I have.

As the cough subsides, Raph has turned his gaze away—nowhere particular, just anywhere that isn’t on me—and I use the opportunity to let my walls down a moment. It takes effort to keep them up, to pretend like I’m not worried and the pain is manageable, and I’m starting to feel exhaustion creep in. It’s falling on me slowly, like molasses dripping from a spoon, heavy and thick and I don’t know how long I can keep it at bay.

I should talk. Keep my brain active. But Raph’s fallen silent and I don’t want to say anything that’ll start another fight. If these are my last moments with him, I don’t want them to be filled with tension. I don’t want to make him feel inferior.

“That’s what you’re always about, isn’t it? Proving that you’re better than everyone else.”

I never meant to make him feel that way. Am I really like that? Do I build myself up by tearing the others down? I don’t try to…

“And God forbid someone actually tries to measure up, you gotta knock ‘em down a peg to make yourself feel better!”

I wish I could tell him I’m sorry. That it wasn’t like that. That the truth was—but he’d never believe me. He’d get angry and we’d fight and I can’t let our last interaction be a—

No. No, stop that. Stop thinking like that. The situation is bad, my wound is worse, but that doesn’t mean I won’t survive this. Pragmatism has it’s moments, but now is not the time. I need to believe that I’ll be okay. That I’ll be laughing about this next week. That this will just be another one of those crazy stories to add to our long roster of ‘times where we almost died’.

I’m going to be alright. I have to be. I have to—

“Hey.”

My eyelids snap apart like being startled from a dream. I hadn’t even realized they were starting to close. I turn to look at Raph who’s face is impassive.

“Keep them baby blues open, Leo. If you pass out, I ain’t givin’ you CPR.”

His voice is a comfort. His wry comment even more so. “Duly noted.” How long have I been dazed? Mikey and Donnie… where are Mikey and Donnie? They should be here by now, shouldn’t they?

What if they’re hurt? Or worse?

“They’ll be here soon.”

His words wipe away the panic, but not the worry. If we had any amount of cloth to make a torniquet, I could at least hobble at Raph’s side and head toward the warehouse. Should have asked Don for—

Pain erupts from my stomach without warning. My body is suddenly quaking everywhere and the movement feels like it’s tearing me apart. Gotta focus. Don’t scream. Don’t... But as the seconds pass, the pain dissipates. Everything does. I can’t feel myself anymore. I’m still shaking, I’m sure of it, but it feels distant. Like feeling an echo.

Darkness surrounds me, and I don’t think it’s because my eyes are closed. I think… I think I might be dying. Or already dead?

“Leo?”

No. I can hear Raph’s voice, so I can’t be dead. But I can’t open my eyes. Everything is heavy. Weighed down. And I’m too tired to fight it.

Focus, Leo. Fight the fatigue. I can’t abandon my family like this. Not till I know they’re safe.

Not till Raph knows I—

“Leo!”

He’s shouting again. Scared. Have to wake up. Focus on his voice. Focus.

“Leo!”

Breathe!

“S-Still here.” I manage to croak out as I finally suck in some oxygen. I can feel my body again.

“Don’t do that!”

He sounds more scared than angry, and I suddenly feel the urge to wrap him in a hug. Where did that come from? Hugging him would probably be as bad as trying to talk. I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, Raph and I are rarely able to connect. To understand each other. Every time I try to explain myself, it somehow always devolves into a fight.

I wish I knew how to tell him. I wish I could find a way around his defenses to show him that I don’t look down on him. I really don’t. At least, not on purpose. I’m too busy admiring his strengths to focus on his faults.

Alright, maybe I focus on his faults from time to time. But it’s not because I’m trying to hurt him. It’s because I want him to be better. Better than me.

And more than anything, I want him to be safe. He thinks that nights like tonight are me trying to coddle him or prove he’s not worthy. But it has nothing to do with him. It’s me. It’s always been me.

My eyes feel heavy and my legs are completely numb. Maybe I should say something… just in case.

“I know.”

I don’t see his face, but his tone is confused enough. “What?”

“I know… you don’t need me.”

His defenses rise immediately, I can practically see the wall forming between us. But I have to say this. He has to know.

“You still… don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

There’s that anger. Present but restrained. Maybe he’ll hear me this time.

“That it’s not—” another sharp shot of pain ricochets through my body. I draw in a breath and hold in the cry before I continue. “…that I—” But I barely get a word out before the cough follows. I’m losing this battle. But I need to tell him. I need him to know.

Just… just let me get through this.

“Raph…”

“Save the lecture for after we get home.”

His voice is commanding. Stubborn. But I can hear that undercurrent of fear running through it. Same thing that’s clouding his eyes. I want to comfort, to take the fear away, but my lungs aren’t cooperating. They’re panicking at the sudden lack of oxygen.

Calm. Breathe. Inhale slow. Exhale slow. Inhale. Exhale. Find a rhythm.

My lungs finally relax, but my mind is still racing. I should try again. Tell him again. He needs to know.

I need you. That’s what I’m trying to say. I need you.

Every time he runs off, half-cocked and fist first, I feel like I’ve lost my balance. Like a part of me is missing. And every time he gets hurt because of it, it feels like that part won’t come back. I’m always so terrified of losing him that I forget how good he is on his own. How well he adapts to being alone.

How little he really—

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

He’s right. And thinking about it now, it makes me feel almost… proud. Why have I never thought of it this way before? Or maybe I did I just didn’t want to admit—

“Donnie!”

My eyes snap taught as I’m once again brought back to my senses. I search around for our younger brothers until I see the phone to Raph’s ear. At least they’re calling, means they’re still alive.

Raph shouts into the phone and I can see his hand shaking. Is that rage, worry, or fatigue? Or a mixture of all three? I try to catch his eyeline so I can ask how the others are, but one glance and he knows what I’m thinking.

“You guys alright?” He pauses and my gut is suddenly twisting in knots. “Mikey?”

Not Donnie? Did something happen to him? I try to hear the other end of the conversation but my senses are too dull to make anything out. Raph must have been thinking the same thing because he asks for me.

“Where’s Don?”

He’s turned away so I can’t see his face, but his body doesn’t tense in any way, so I can only assume that means they’re alright. If they weren’t, Raph’s musculature would betray his worry, like it always does. His body tenses and flexes a lot when he’s worried. And angry. And—

“He’s what!? You…”

The voice on the phone gets lost in the rain, but I heard those first words loud and clear. They hadn’t told Mikey. Probably to keep him moving and not panicking. Smart move, Don. I suddenly wish I could take the cell and speak with my baby brother. I want to tell him it’s all going to be alright. That there’s no need to be afraid. That I’m okay, or will be once we get back home. If I make it back home…

I might not make it home.

I just want to hear his voice one more time.

Raph is facing me again, staring at my stomach. Or rather glaring at it. “No.” he says in reply to some question on the phone, I assume. “He’s still awake and talking, but his speech is gettin’ slow.”

Is it? I hadn’t noticed.

He must be talking to Don now, Mikey wouldn’t ask those kinds of questions. Or wouldn’t know what to do with the answers, anyway. He’d be more focused… more focused on…

Shell, I’m tired.

Don’t think about it. Don’t fixate on the fatigue. Keep the mind busy.

I focus on Raph who is putting the phone on the ground. Did they hang up already? Is everyone alright? …Did I not ask that out loud? Try again. Breathe. Speak.

“They… Okay?”

But my voice is so small, I don’t think he hears me. His hand is on my neck—I think, I can’t feel it at all—checking for a pulse. Right. Probably should have been doing that this whole time. Wasn’t thinking.

“Weak and slow.” He pauses before I see his patience leave him. “Get here and see for yourself!” I blink slowly and somehow miss whatever else is said as he hangs up. “They’re alright. On their way now.”

I finally catch his eyes and see it plain as day on his face: he’s scared. For me. Worried for me. I know how stupid it sounds, but I can’t help feeling… treasured. He doesn’t want me to leave.

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

I know he didn’t mean it. I barely heard it through my own dread when I noticed the sniper. Or maybe I was ignoring it purposefully because it hurt. But I know he didn’t mean it. I know my brother loves me. He never says it—that’s not his way—but he shows it often enough.

I hope I do too. I hope he knows how much I love him. Respect him. No matter what else we are to each other—leader, subordinate, rival—he’s my younger brother and I love him so much.

I’d be nothing without him. Without all three of them.

Mikey. Donnie. They’re not gonna make it. I’m fading too fast. I’m trying—I refuse to give up—but I don’t have a choice anymore. My body is failing me and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.

Memories of the three of them dance before me unprompted. I don’t stop it. I want to see them one last time. I want to see Mikey’s smile. I want to see Don’s “thinking” face. I want to tell them how much I’m going to miss them. How much they mean to me.

This is going to be so hard for them. All three of them. Mikey will cry. A lot. Don will too, but he’ll do it in silence. Secluded, so the others don’t see. And Raph… Raph will blame himself. He’ll think this is all his fault. No, he has to know it’s not. It was mine. I didn’t see the sniper in time.

He’ll lock himself away. We all know how he copes with pain. But he can’t do that this time. Mike and Don, they’ll need him to get through this. April and Casey can probably manage with each other, and Sensei can get through anything, but Mike and Don… they’ll need him.

I’m out of time. One last order from your older brother. One last desperate plea.

“Raph… Don’t—” Another cough interrupts me, more blood sliding through my lips. “Don’t… shut them out. They’ll need…” My voice trails off because it’s too much effort to keep talking. But I’m sure he understands. He’s got them. He’ll take care of everyone.

“I got them. If something ever happened… I got them.”

I trust him.

“What are you—?”

Our eyes meet and I try to offer as comforting a smile as I can. Everything is fading away. Like rippling water that dissipates in the distance. But it’s okay. Mikey and Donnie are safe. Raph will take care of them. They’ll be alright without me. I’m certain of it.

“Leo, don’t you dare!” He knows. He can see it too. “Keep your eyes open!”

“…Trying…” I really am. I don’t want to go. I don’t want one lapse in focus to be the reason I’m gone. I don’t want to put my family through this.

I don’t want to die at all.

“Well try harder! Since when do you back away from a fight!?”

But at least I’m not alone. I know it’s selfish, Raph would be much better off if he didn’t have to watch me go, but I don’t want to be alone. I want him here. So I can tell him.

I try to speak but the sound doesn’t come. It’s too much effort. Too much breath. Try again. I close my eyes to gather my strength. One last movement. Just let me say one last thing.

“I said keep ‘em open, dam—”

I manage to place my numb hand on his over my stomach, and I can tell it’s still shaking.

It’s okay, brother. It’s okay. Everything will be alright. “Tell them…” All of them. Dad, April, Casey.

“Leo—!”

“…M’Sorry.” For failing you. For leaving. For all of it.

“I’m… so…proud” Truly. They are everything I wish I was, everything I could never be.

I love them so much.

I try to say it. I try to form the words. But my breath has left my body and no more air is coming to replace it. The darkness at the edge of my vision closes in. A sudden panic rises in my chest and spikes through my entire being.

No! No, I don’t want to go! I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to lose them! Please!

Please…

I feel warm. Tranquil. Like meditating with Sensei.

Let me…

The darkness is gone. So is the panic.

Stay…

My brothers. My family. I can feel them…

With…

Still with them. Still connected.

“S-Still here…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Previous < - > Epilogue 2

I had fun writing it, anyways.

Comments/Critiques always welcome.

End of Line.

-TRAap

#tmnt fanfiction #tworoadsandapenny #traap #tmnt 2003 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2012 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tragedy #hurt/comfort #tmnt brothers #what you wish for #another reason i'm not good at endings #i keep wanting to write epilogues

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thegempage · 2 years ago

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[image description: six outfits for a PNG tuber sprite. All six are of the same pale, chubby white person wearing glasses with a long, undercut red ponytail, depicted from the waist up sitting at a desk. In the first, they are wearing a purple tank top with a lighter colored moon that reads "yeah it is" with dark, purple-tinted sunglasses and earrings of the same moon. In the second, a black priest's outfit with upside down cross earrings and red-tinted sunglasses. The third, a t-shirt with a Homestuck fan-troll on the front, waving to the audience, that says "Have you seen my child? They're great," with orange-framed, purple tinted sunglasses and cyan fishhook earrings that match the troll on the shirt. The fourth, a blue and white striped polo shirt with green-tinted sunglasses and Stardrop earrings. The fifth, a purple and yellow tank top that reads "Helga fan club" with war hammer shaped earrings and dark green sunglasses. The sixth, they are wearing a black t-shirt with a dancing skeleton that reads "we do bones motherfucker" with sword earrings and bone-colored sunglasses. Each sprite has a themed desk, and four of the six sprites are holding mugs with Tavros, poorly drawn, wearing a beret on them, with the other two holding tall mugs, one of which is with the priest outfit and reads "I'm not Christian, I am cosplaying as a podcast character. The two tank-top outfits show off a tattoo shaped like a stylized red eye that resembles a hurricane symbol. End description]

i finished my sixth agent divination outfit today so here's a post of all of the versions i have right now!! i use these for my twitch channel, OpalescentQuartz, depending on my mood and what i'm doing that day lmao. these are my default/homestuck, horror game, blorbo, Stardew, Poll for Initiative, and Locked Tomb outfits, respectively!! we actually did the last two today on stream so : 3!!! it was a fun time

i wanted the helga outfit to have a mug that said "friendship" but i couldn't get the text on the shirt to fit otherwise jkflasdfds also shout out to this post for making me realize i had forgotten my tattoo on said helga outfit

#little rock.txt #ciaran does the art #the tattoo is very important to me bcus it's my only one jfkldsafjdslk

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sualne · 11 months ago

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notes about this

originally i had drawn rebecca helping her, it was her sword viola was using but i remembered rebecca's whole thing is that she doesn't hurt ppl so i took her out of the piece. had to think "who else could help her?" no one. she had no one.

so i gave her her father's sword instead, glowing white like nika, like freedom, made for a convenient light source too. i recentered her into the middle of the piece, i really wanted it to be about her and not even mingo, you can tell cause he's sketchier and i even gouged out the wrong eye (flipping the canvas has its risks).

i debated a bit what expression to go with, at first i was planning on unrestrained fury, screaming and ugly, rage at it most disgraceful, i wanted smth as raw as possible. but i guess i kind of coward out or maybe this was already too intense for me so i settled on quiet fury instead. i was v upset when i drew this lol, so i had to tone it done a bit otherwise i might've thrown up fr.

i wanted mingo to be disgraceful too, not in a rightful anger like viola but disgraceful, helpless and miserable. he just ended up being poorly drawn instead. there was an alternative version where rows of faceless women stood in the background watching, unclear whether or not they were alive still.

this is still a wip to me, mostly because im v unsatisfied with how it looks. will redraw it later, maybe in some years to be sure my skills can actually draw it how i want it to look. that said im v happy with how viola and this one hand turned out!

it was important that mingo couldn't actually reach her anymore, his hands unable to grab or touch.

viola

#my art

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touchmycoat · 3 years ago

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deaged!SJ ch. 2

super first draft that i just need to put out here so i don’t delete it all again fjnksdnjfs

wc: 4.8k

Autumn morning tossed a silken gold sheen over Cang Qiong’s craggy cliff-sides, and amidst some boulders about five meters overhead, Yue Qingyuan spotted strawberry runners. They were such a sight to find in the hazy dawn light that Yue Qingyuan was on his feet before he really thought about it, eager to use his spiritual energy to coax the runners down. He could feed the green enough to cover the entire cliffside, to have strawberries dripping off the stones like jewels from the earlobes of a rich person.

Hand half in the air, Yue Qingyuan stopped himself. All in their own time, he reminded himself. This little plant didn’t need to be expansive to be charming. It was flourishing enough without his interference.

Not everything needed you to live, Yue Qingyuan. He withdrew his hand, resumed his post outside the Spirit Caves, and began waiting again.

For the past month, Yue Qingyuan’s disciples and assistants surely thought him possessed. He knew the rumors already without having to hear them—that Yue-zhangmen’s dearest shidi Shen Qingqiu had gotten into another fight with Bai Zhan Peak Lord Liu Qingge and leveled accusations. That was why Yue Qingyuan was standing guard over Liu Qingge’s retreat into seclusion, eager to catch Liu Qingge the moment Liu Qingge’s meditations finished so he could exact revenge—justly or unjustly—for Shen Qingqiu.

Of course, none of that was even remotely true except for, perhaps, the part about Liu Qingge taking up extended meditation in the Spirit Caves. And yes, Yue Qingyuan was waiting for him, but other than that, the rumors were all off.

Firstly, Shen Qingqiu never leveled any accusations, which was part of the problem. Having gone to the scene of Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge’s battle on the day of the qi deviation, Yue Qingyuan knew it hadn’t just been any regular battle. Shen Qingqiu—marked by the devastation Xiu Ya wreaked on the trees and stones and ground—had been out for blood, which would have been a death sentence in the making against Liu Qingge, who generally took murder attempts as blanket permission to end the other person’s life in turn.

However, the sword marks were notably one-sided. Yue Qingyuan spotted this quickly, having been a sword-less fighter for most of his life. Cheng Luan may have been drawn but had not been wielded with the destructive force that Yue Qingyuan knew Liu Qingge capable of.

So what did it mean that the Bai Zhan war god looked a murder attempt in the eyes and did not fight back?

Yue Qingyuan could only come up with one hypothesis to that question, which was that Liu Qingge had been in the wrong. Hypothesis had remained hypothesis though, because Shen Qingqiu’s account of the incident amounted to a barely polite version of wouldn’t you like to fucking know? Liu Qingge himself had disappeared into the caves before Yue Qingyuan could even question him. Circumstantially, this felt nothing like all of Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge’s previous fights. Even without forensic preoccupations from the scene of battle, Liu Qingge’s current seclusion could be construed as a retreat. And from Shen Qingqiu, of all people. What else was Yue Qingyuan meant to think?

So, standing for the fifth day in a row in front of the entrance to the Spirit caves, Yue Qingyuan had already worn a bald path in the scruffy grass due to excited pacing. Yes it was inappropriate, and of course it was bad that they’d fought at all, but at the same time, this was a dramatic deviation from their typical pattern! Shen Qingqiu hadn’t done something poorly construed and Liu Qingge hadn’t called him out on it. Shen Qingqiu hadn’t gone pale-lipped with wordless fury and Liu Qingge hadn’t gone stomping out because yet again, Yue Qingyuan was refusing to punish Shen Qingqiu for some harm Shen Qingqiu had “obviously” done but nobody could prove.

If Liu Qingge had been the one to wrong Shen Qingqiu this time, it could mark a change in their old dynamic. Liu Qingge obviously felt accountable enough to not fight back. For the first time ever, Liu Qingge was perhaps forced to perceive Shen Qingqiu as victim instead of perpetrator.

Hence Yue Qingyuan’s anticipatory camping out. He’d even been having all his work redirected to this post. He wanted to catch Liu Qingge the moment Liu Qingge came out and ask for the whole story. With any luck, Liu Qingge would have thought things over during meditation and agree to apologize. Two of the people most important to Yue Qingyuan might finally stop despising each other and fighting on sight. Heavens, they could even become friendly.

Gaze drifting back up to the peak of tender greens rooting among unforgiving rock, Yue Qingyuan struggled to keep excited feet still as he blessed the strawberry with every well-growing wish he could remember.

There was, unfortunately, no luck to be had, not where Yue Qingyuan was concerned. He cursed himself for not remembering this character flaw of his earlier as he chased after Liu Qingge on the way to Qing Jing Peak. The conversation had gone so quickly and decisively, just like all of Liu Qingge’s battles. Yue Qingyuan cursed himself again for not being ready for that.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t tell you?

Perhaps Yue Qingyuan should feel gratified that Liu Qingge was demonstrating some loyalty to Shen Qingqiu—but annoyingly, it was coming at the cost of Liu Qingge’s loyalty to Yue Qingyuan. No, no, he mustn’t think that way. Liu Qingge not telling him everything immediately was not a betrayal because Yue Qingyuan wasn’t trying to work against Shen Qingqiu. All Yue Qingyuan wanted was for them to get along and—and this was good. This was good.

Things got a little less good when they arrived on Qing Jing Peak and descended before Shen Qingqiu. The chilly onset was immediate, and Yue Qingyuan couldn’t help but feel a tinge of woe for the fact that Liu Qingge and himself were in all likelihood the two people Shen Qingqiu hated the most in this sect. Yet here they were, barging in on their swords, looking like judge and executioner.

To dampen some of that thinking, Yue Qingyuan lingered a few steps behind, letting Liu Qingge take the lead on this confrontation (which was not at all his usual tactic for dealing with those two).

“Terrific,” Shen Qingqiu called before they’d even gotten out of the air. “Skip the song and dance then. What is to be my punishment for improper conduct toward a fellow Peak Lord, Yue-shixiong? Or should I even call you that? Have I been summarily dismissed from the sect?”

“Of course not,” Yue Qingyuan rushed to say. He attempted a placating smile in response to Shen Qingqiu’s little eye roll (yeah, of course not). “There’s no punishment. Liu-shidi had just come out of seclusion. I was inquiring after the nature of your last disagreement, and—”

“If you’re concerned I’ll use it against you,” Liu Qingge interrupted, scowling and crossing his arms, “I won’t.”

Yue Qingyuan could practically see Shen Qingqiu’s vision go red. Xiu Ya flew out of its sheathe with a murderous gleam and midair, Cheng Luan joined it in a spectacular clash.

“How dare you?” Shen Qingqiu threw himself at Liu Qingge, taking his sword with him. Once more, Liu Qingge was retreating, though being on the defensive still looked just on the edge of offense for him. There was annoyance bleeding into Liu Qingge’s frown, and Shen Qingqiu’s teeth were grinding with fury. Yue Qingyuan’s hand twitched on his scabbard. “Can heavens’ beloved Peak Lord Liu not conceive of something that’s not for him to know?! How dare you saunter in here with your grand proclamations—”

“What’s wrong with you?”

Sword. Forearm guard. Cheng Luan again, pressing in. This was a proper fight now, Liu Qingge’s every block increasing in both momentum and threat. His words could be a battlefield taunt, yet Yue Qingyuan understood his true meaning with a chill in his gut—Liu Qingge wasn’t insulting Shen Qingqiu but asking a genuine question after sensing something wrong. Something physical? Something in his qi?

The latter was more likely, given that Shen Qingqiu was just coming up from a qi deviation. Yue Qingyuan tamped down the pressing scream in his mind to interfere (there were too many factors at play and Liu Qingge wouldn’t—he wouldn’t—actually kill Shen Qingqiu) and tried to spot it, but Shen Qingqiu’s motions shifted to deliberately conceal—he’d also understood what Liu Qingge meant.

“I’ll send you to hell,” Shen Qingqiu said, jawline sharp as a knife held downward to his own neck. Liu Qingge’s eyes gleamed and Cheng Luan sliced forward, slamming Xiu Ya off to the side with brute strength.

“With cultivation like that?”

Liu Qingge was a man of pride, confidence, and skill—there was no reason for him to shy away from cocky battlefield taunts. A well-timed insult could even prove beneficial by throwing the opponent off their rhythm, giving Liu Qingge an opening to aim his attack.

Which was exactly what happened. Energy tearing and tattering at the edges, Shen Qingqiu’s swing with Xiu Ya went wide. Several things happened at once: Yue Qingyuan finally spotted the tangled mess that was the source of Shen Qingqiu’s qi troubles; Liu Qingge must have as well. Liu Qingge began to move in and Yue Qingyuan had only a drop of a moment to determine where Liu Qingge was going to strike in order to intercept.

Head? Stomach? Chest?

Intending to stun or finally exact vengeance for the multiple murder attempts?

It was an aftereffect of the qi deviation because Shen Qingqiu wasn’t dodging—was in too much pain to manage.

Liu Qingge would not aim to kill, but—

Wind whipped. A billow of impacted qi.

Liu Qingge’s wrist in Yue Qingyuan’s grip.

Liu Qingge’s outstretched fingers a hair’s breadth away from Shen Qingqiu’s chest.

Shen Qingqiu’s pupils trembling with their effort to stay still, focusing on nobody in particular.

Tightening. Bruising.

Bones creaking.

Liu Qingge finally grunted in concession, and Yue Qingyuan released him.

Over the course of his life, Yue Qingyuan had been inducing bodily injuries on Liu Qingge with startling regularity. He’d been repeatedly invited to, was the thing, and Liu Qingge with his Liu Qingge philosophy of being was entirely fine with it.

The night before the prior generation of Peak Lords would ascend and the Qing generation would officially take up their mantles, Liu Qingge had dragged Yue Qingyuan away from all the scrolls and books to be anxiously memorized by the future Sect Leader and up to an abandoned training lot on Bai Zhan. There, he proceeded to bait Yue Qingyuan with rude scabbard whacks and flippant dodges until Yue Qingyuan grabbed hold of a training staff and jabbed back.

That night, Yue Qingyuan ended up breaking four training staffs, three training swords, and five of Liu Qingge’s ribs. By the time he was a worn out, bloody mess collapsed on a bench, there wasn’t a single unblemished foothold of land left on the field and Liu Qingge had never looked prouder.

Feel better?

Yue Qingyuan remembered looking up at Liu Qingge, vibrant and glowing in the moonlight. He remembered telling Liu Qingge yes, thank you and Liu Qingge rolling his eyes, summarily dismissing the gratitude with a wave of a bruised hand. He remembered not knowing how to tell Liu Qingge the truth, which was that he found Liu Qingge horribly beautiful like this, smeared in muddy blood with violent satisfaction in his eyes, so damn happy to bear witness to Yue Qingyuan’s ugliness and loss of control.

(See, Qi-ge? Breaking shit feels good, doesn’t it?)

A Sect Leader can’t be so impulsive, Yue Qingyuan remembered saying as if reciting from a wall hanging. He remembered flexing his aching knuckles and Liu Qingge sitting down next to him with a snort. We can get attacked tonight or tomorrow. I’m no use if I’ve gone and worn myself out for no reason at all.

Who cares? You have to take this for yourself.

Cang Qiong must come first.

I know that. Liu Qingge had turned to him, expression as solemn as he’d ever seen. So you handle Cang Qiong, and I’ll handle you.

A lick of dry lips, and Yue Qingyuan was placing a shaky hand on the top of Liu Qingge’s head. Liu Qingge, an older brother himself, looked bewildered.

The thing was, Yue Qingyuan didn’t want to compare Liu Qingge to Xiao Jiu, not when Xiao Jiu was dead by Yue Qingyuan’s own useless and tardy hands. He didn’t want to entertain the possibility of failing again now that he had Cang Qiong and Cang Qiong had people like Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge.

I think I’m scared, he’d confessed before Liu Qingge’s unfaltering gaze. His hand had been left undisturbed and was now slipping into Liu Qingge’s hair. But I’ll still do my best.

For Yue Qingyuan, becoming the Sect Leader was penance in every way except in relief. He did not get to be forgiven. Care was what he’d been born to do, what he’d failed at, and still all the lot that was left to him after. Honestly it was a lot less tragic than it sounded; all he had to do was throw himself into his duty. Just care for his people. Protect them for however long eternity lasted without tiring or ever taking a break.

Then Liu Qingge had nodded and turned away.

You know what I’m good for. Use me as you see fit.

And instead of grabbing hold like he so suddenly hungered to, Yue Qingyuan had made his hand fall away.

Liu Qingge backed up three steps and Yue Qingyuan stood between him and Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes were still stuck a little bit wide, bloodlessness on his lips and a tough wrap of qi lashing at him from the inside. Yue Qingyuan had more of the pieces now, and could surmise that perhaps Liu Qingge had attempted to help Shen Qingqiu with the qi blockage and seen something he should not have seen as a result.

And he hadn’t even completely cleared the blockage, a child’s voice scoffed in his mind as Yue Qingyuan turned, consciously relaxing his stance and offering Shen Qingqiu a smile. Upsettingly, that only seemed to make Shen Qingqiu tenser.

“Qingqiu-shidi must be suffering,” Yue Qingyuan spoke softly, happy to pretend the little interlude with Liu Qingge never happened. It wasn’t like Liu Qingge would press the point with him, not here and now. “We can send for Mu-shidi as quickly as possible but I would recommend letting me help.”

Before the symptoms return. Cold sweat beading along an elegant hairline, Shen Qingqiu cracked open dry lips, still trying to keep up an unaffected front.

“No offense, but what does Yue-shixiong know about my qi blockage?”

Tracing a finger along the air in illustration, Yue Qingyuan named the three pressure points and meridian at play.

“Two of the points burn, but over here the sensation is freezing. Down along the meridian, your qi will seem to go through but then hit something. It doubles back with a snap.” At the expression on Shen Qingqiu’s face, Yue Qingyuan smiled faintly. “Shixiong has suffered this specific sort of qi deviation long ago.”

He did not tell Shen Qingqiu that it was the aftermath of poorly formed foundations from their relative lateness coming to cultivation. He did not care to remember how bad his own qi deviation had been, to the point that he’d sealed himself back up in a cave as Xuan Su ripped his core apart again from the bottom up.

“…Fine. But make it quick.” It must really be bad for Shen Qingqiu to accept Yue Qingyuan’s help, especially in front of Liu Qingge.

“I will endeavor to be thorough and efficient,” Yue Qingyuan promised. “Please have a seat.”

As Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu folded their legs down beneath a tree, both of them could clearly sense Liu Qingge still lingering. Approaching, even, as if he wanted to get a good look at the proceedings. Shen Qingqiu threw one last contemptuous glare over Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder at the man before squeezing his eyes decisively closed.

Yue Qingyuan, after committing the map of veins on Shen Qingqiu’s eyelids to memory, filled his fingertips with spiritual energy and began the procedure.

The damage came with little warning. Yue Qingyuan had spent perhaps a cup of tea’s worth of time redirecting qi and cooling inflamed meridians when all of a sudden, his torso jerked and blood flew out of his mouth. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes flew open at once, but the hand that came up to ostensibly tear Yue Qingyuan’s hand away from him froze midair.

“Don’t move.”

Brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut, Yue Qingyuan had already started to guide the primary backup of stagnant spiritual energy out of Shen Qingqiu, and the flow was hefty enough to cause a heavy backlash if cut off halfway. Shen Qingqiu scowled when more blood spilled past Yue Qingyuan’s lips, teeth looking on the verge of breaking around a curse.

Biting down on his own urge to curse, Liu Qingge dropped swiftly to his knees and stamped both his palms onto Yue Qingyuan’s back. He was hardly an expert when it came to qi and healing but the nature of his cultivation meant that Liu Qingge grew up in and out of healers’ care, ears full of exasperated warnings to stop overdoing his practice already that sometimes didn’t unstick themselves from his eardrums. As a result, he could with some confidence identify most reparation methods on sight.

The method Yue Qingyuan had chosen was redirection, using himself essentially as a coal-and-cotton filter for the rancid buildup of energy around Shen Qingqiu’s chest. Liu Qingge had seen this method work safely before, the idea being that whatever had caused the spiritual energy to snag in the patient’s meridians did not exist in the healer’s. Like warming the water up in another cauldron before pouring it back into the first, had been Mu Qingfang’s description. So the first cauldron doesn’t crack under the sudden intense heat of the fire.

For the reparation method to whip back at Yue Qingyuan like this, therefore, there must exist a matching snag in Yue Qingyuan, or at least something that was similar enough to it that Yue Qingyuan could not smoothly push Shen Qingqiu’s spiritual energy through himself. Hypothesis formed, Liu Qingge immediately dove in, shoving his qi intently through Yue Qingyuan’s meridians as quickly as possible to look for where the qi was catching.

Almost immediately after his entry, Liu Qingge found a blockade in his way. The qi was not Shen Qingqiu’s (which would have been evidently foreign and inflamed), so assuming Yue Qingyuan’s body was just unconsciously spitting up defenses, Liu Qingge shoved right through it. It wasn’t great for Yue Qingyuan but it wouldn’t damage Yue Qingyuan beyond repair either. At worse, for a cultivator of Sect Leader Yue’s caliber, Liu Qingge was leaving what was akin to a bruise on his energy body.

The problem was that barricades kept coming up. Yue Qingyuan twisted a few times, keen to break contact with Liu Qingge but Liu Qingge wouldn’t let him, clamping down on his shoulders instead. From where he kneeled, Liu Qingge could not see Yue Qingyuan’s face, but the expression on Shen Qingqiu’s as he watched Yue Qingyuan bore only poor omens. Liu Qingge doubled down, figuring whatever damage was already done he might as well get to the bottom of it; better that than having nothing to show for hurting the Sect Leader.

With another two meridians traversed, Yue Qingyuan started to shake. Shen Qingqiu’s hand finally closed over Yue Qingyuan’s wrist as his eyes met Liu Qingge’s in furious warning.

“Hurry up you—”

“—I know.”

He spotted the snag almost the moment the words left his mouth, Shen Qingqiu’s tetchy aggression apparently propelling Liu Qingge to superior performance as always. “Snags” and “cracks” were only metaphors, apparently; Liu Qingge found the real thing to be much more like a whirlpool of swollen flesh, like perhaps a bee’s stinger was buried into the base of it underneath the onslaught of both Shen Qingqiu’s and Yue Qingyuan’s aggravated qi. With little hesitation Liu Qingge jumped into the torrent and shoved his way through, prying open all the superheated spiritual energy with scalded fingers until he caught a glimpse of—

—an exit? No. A steel wall? Also no. But it was something, Liu Qingge was certain, that was both other and dead end. Any spiritual energy he threw at it was simply eaten up. It was not Yue Qingyuan, though it seemed to be eating Yue Qingyuan’s qi and snugly sitting in Yue Qingyuan. It bore no sign of willpower or intention. All it did, it seemed, was consume with indiscriminate voracity, chewing at Shen Qingqiu’s fevered qi despite the way it was also bleeding into the stream of Yue Qingyuan’s.

Looking wildly about for a solution, Liu Qingge did the only thing he could think to do: shove a mass of his spiritual energy up against the torrent of Shen Qingqiu’s. If he could keep it from going into this strange hungry wall inside of Yue Qingyuan, the bleeding might slow.

“Liu Qingge!”

His eyes snapped open.

“I’m trying—”

“—help me.”

At Shen Qingqiu’s call, Liu Qingge’s attention honed in on where Shen Qingqiu was still holding onto Yue Qingyuan’s arm, but now had two fingers pressed to a pressure point in Yue Qingyuan’s inner elbow. Apparently he was healed well enough now to help with the qi redirection inside Yue Qingyuan. Face pale and expression pinched, Shen Qingqiu jerked his chin at Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder, indicating a pressure point there.

“Hit—”

Liu Qingge hardly needed instructions at that point. Together, with four hands working to stabilize Yue Qingyuan (with Liu Qingge’s open palm taking the brunt of the work shoving Shen Qingqiu’s qi away from the now-ravenous wall), the two of them managed to finish what Yue Qingyuan had started: wash the flood of Shen Qingqiu’s damaged qi clean and cycle it all back into Shen Qingqiu without also infecting Yue Qingyuan in the process.

The moment it was done, Shen Qingqiu shoved Yue Qingyuan’s hand away and hoised Yue Qingyuan up by the collar of his robes. Yue Qingyuan’s chin was still bloody, but his eyes were clear and conscious when they opened.

“Are you an idiot. What the hell were you thinking—”

“—apologies, a horrible miscalculation on my part—”

“—could’ve killed yourse—could’ve killed me—”

Tuning out the yelling, Liu Qingge was looking up at the tall, broad swathe of Yue Qingyuan’s back, eyes narrowing. Completely encased in Yue Qingyuan, Liu Qingge hadn’t been able to tell what the wall-thing was. Now that the rush of action was over though, and Liu Qingge was simply using his eyes…

Something on Yue Qingyuan that was both part of him and decided not him. Something that ate spiritual energy. A steely wall. Something that had been with Yue Qingyuan since a qi deviation “long, long ago,” bearing a scar from it.

There was only one thing it could be, couldn’t it? Liu Qingge slowly rose to his feet.

Before Liu Qingge could touch Xuan Su, Yue Qingyuan’s hand stopped his again. And for a split second, what was left of Liu Qingge’s spiritual energy reserves went haywire, convinced their owner was going to die.

Not even in the midst of their most vicious spars had Yue Qingyuan ever looked at Liu Qingge with such intent to murder in his eyes.

But just as soon as it came, it was gone, Yue-shixiong back in full force with a kind smile but steel in his gaze. He gave Liu Qingge a little head shake of warning before letting Liu Qingge go.

“What? What’s going on?”

Shen Qingqiu was demanding to know this without having seen the little exchange of gestures—when he’d felt Liu Qingge reaching for Xuan Su, Yue Qingyuan had turned so that his body blocked Shen Qingqiu’s view. Yue Qingyuan turned back now to give his excuses and Liu Qingge stayed partially hidden behind that broad back. He lifted his sleeve to look.

Sure enough, Liu Qingge’s wrist was well and truly bruised now, marked by Yue Qingyuan’s unforgiving grip. It was…concerning. It wasn’t so much that Liu Qingge took physical injuries personally, more that Yue Qingyuan, who was always so genuinely (and annoyingly, in Liu Qingge’s book) reluctant to hurt, had acted out twice in a row.

The first time was concerning Shen Qingqiu’s well-being, which Liu Qingge grudgingly considered in-character. The second time, however…

“—leaving so soon? Didn’t Yue-shixiong escort Liu-shidi here intending for us to talk?”

“Qingqiu-shidi must be exhausted. We all must be, I believe. Why don’t we retire first to regather our energies—”

“—Liu Qingge?”

Liu Qingge looked up to find two pairs of eyes staring at him, both intent with meaning. The sharp bite of Shen Qingqiu’s tone conveyed that he had tired of Yue Qingyuan’s explanations and was looking for a more accurate one. It wasn’t so unfamiliar to Liu Qingge, actually, because Shen Qingqiu had used that tone on him in the past to goad him into sharing blunt critiques of Shen Qingqiu’s own plans.

(To be fair, it never took much goading on Shen Qingqiu’s part, a fact which had unwittingly made itself a front and center object of Liu Qingge’s meditations during seclusion.)

Yue Qingyuan’s look wasn’t unfamiliar either. It was one he often directed Liu Qingge’s way during political and business meetings and the like to cue Liu Qingge into backing up his play. Whenever Liu Qingge got that look, it was him and Yue Qingyuan against the world, even other members of their own sect sometimes trying to calm Liu Qingge down or stop the barrage of Liu Qingge’s impolite words. But only Yue Qingyuan could call him off, typically from making a threat. Now, Yue Qingyuan was asking—commanding—Liu Qingge not to say anything about all the strangeness around Xuan Su to Shen Qingqiu.

If he had been asked a month ago who he’d choose to follow between Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, Liu Qingge would have been finished with Yue Qingyuan’s bidding before the question had even ended, with enough time leftover to scoff in Shen Qingqiu’s face. Now, however…

Now, Liu Qingge had a stomachful of things he wanted clarified with Shen Qingqiu, and knowing what he did about Shen Qingqiu (and about Shen Jiu), he knew the fastest way to lose all possibility of getting his questions answered was siding with someone else against him.

(Which was a character trait Liu Qingge used to looked down on in Shen Qingqiu with ease. Having met Shen Jiu, however, Liu Qingge could more easily see the way being shut out of something translated to fear, panic, and ultimately distrust.)

So now, Liu Qingge looked straight into Shen Qingqiu’s eyes.

“Liu-shidi? If you’ll accompany me?” Yue Qingyuan asked pleasantly. Shen Qingqiu’s glare was already shuttering in defeat, knowing who in this little clearing held most of Liu Qingge’s loyalty.

But then Liu Qingge told him: “I’ll come back.”

At once, both their attention flashed to Yue Qingyuan, Shen Qingqiu’s in surprise and Liu Qingge’s in warning. Yue Qingyuan himself looked stunned at this turn of events, expression blanking the moment he correctly interpreted Liu Qingge’s warning:

So you better give me a good reason to not tell Shen Qingqiu what happened.

The very thought of betraying Yue Qingyuan’s confidence to Shen Qingqiu, of all people, made Liu Qingge’s gut crawl with rebellion. But he hadn’t gone into seclusion for no reason; he’d come out of meditation with a clear set of decisions.

One of which was to desist from drawing any conclusions about Shen Qingqiu’s general trustworthiness until new evidence provided itself. This, Liu Qingge told himself, was not evidence.

Not yet, anyways. It all depended on what Yue Qingyuan would tell him.

“…Fine,” Shen Qingqiu spoke, shuttering anyways, though not out of cold disappointment as before. If anything he seemed a bit…stunned, and trying to compensate for it. “Come find me at the Jade Pavilion.”

Without another word, Liu Qingge stepped onto Cheng Luan, shooting off at top speed in the direction of Qiong Ding Peak. He was in part trying to remove himself from the useless loaded tension, yes, but if he were honest with himself, Liu Qingge knew he was mostly trying to get away from the guilt of putting that expression on Yue Qingyuan’s face.

He wouldn’t hurt Yue Qingyuan, he promised himself. He would just do right by them—both of them, his most trusted leader Yue-shixiong and Shen…Qingqiu.

#it's the simple fact of knowing other people have seen this #that will keep me from starting over from scratch again yanno?#anyways #shen jiu #lqg #yqy

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telemna-hyelle · 3 years ago

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What You Look At, You Change: Chapter One (aka Palace of the Four Sword AU)

Here we go, at long last, the first chapter of my Palace of the Four Sword AU for your reading pleasure!

I hope you enjoy <3

Special thanks to @anadorablekiwi for all her help in creating this AU

Now, without further ado~

Wind glanced around frantically, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles seemed white. “Are… are you sure this is the place?”

“I’m sure.” Legend shoved his hand into his hair again, pulling, as if the pain could ground him. “I know the place pretty well. I keep seeing it in my nightmares.” He peered into the darkness behind the statues, though, a frown twisting his mouth. “Though it does seem empty. Maybe…” he swallowed hard. “Maybe I’ve already murdered him, in this time.”

Wind, Hyrule and Sky exchanged a helpless look, but Legend wasn’t paying attention. He was distracted by a new thought, one that loomed over him like the specter of doom.

“Or…” he said slowly, his voice tight. “Or maybe it’s early days, yet. All the monsters haven’t moved in. But… but he could still be here. Trapped. Cursed.”

“Then we could save him?” Hyrule asked, a faint edge of hope tinging his tone.

Legend shook his head sharply. “No. Because he still has to be here later, when I—when I—so, if he is here, that means there’s nothing I can do.” His voice began to climb sharply with every couple words. “I was here in time and I still couldn’t save him! What kind of hero am I—"

“Legend, stop panicking.” Twilight said, still slowly but clear than before. “This isn’t your timeline.”

Legend’s head whipped around, a glare shooting towards the rancher with the speed and deadliness of an electric arrow. “How can you say that, you have no idea what—”

Twilight shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not just saying it. It says so. On the wall.”

Everyone stared. Legend blinked. “What?”

The rancher pointed towards a nearby wall. “See?”

Legend looked. There, on the wall, scratched into the stones, first in Twilight’s and then with poorly formed letters in Legend’s Hylian were the words “LEGEND, STOP PANICKING. THIS ISN’T YOUR TIMELINE.”

Legend blinked again.

“WHAT IN THE BLOODY HECK IS THIS????”

“That…” Hyrule narrowed his eyes. “That’s weird.”

Wind, eager to seize on the distraction, ran forward and squinted up at the writing, despite the fact that he couldn’t read either version. “Do… do you think one of us wrote it?”

“Legend?” Sky said, his voice suddenly urgent. “Do you realize what this means?”

“What?” Legend snapped, his voice still strained. “That even the walls have it out for me now?”

Sky shook his head sharply, clenching his fists in order to restrain the urge to reach out and try and comfort the veteran. “Don’t you see—if this isn’t your timeline, then, you’ve never been here.”

Legend stilled. Slowly, he turned to look at Sky, his eyes wide. Sky reached out hesitantly, and when Legend didn’t flinch or shy away, he gripped Legend’s shoulders firmly—but not so firmly that Legend couldn’t easily duck out of the hold.

He didn’t, though. Instead, the contact seemed to ground him, to soothe the very edges of his jagged nerves, helping his breaths come smoother and more easily.

“And if you’ve never been here, you’re not too late this time—”

Legend met Sky’s gaze, something unexpected struggling to swim upwards through the all-encompassing ocean of guilt—struggling and kicking and somehow determinedly clawing it’s head above the surface—hope. “I can save him.”

A wave of something swept over the room—Twilight sat up, Hyrule set his hand on the sword, eyes flashing, and Wind bounced excitedly with a fierce grin, sword already drawn.

A smile spread across the chosen hero’s face, and his brows furrowed with determination as he nodded, squeezing the veteran’s shoulders. Legend found himself smiling back; somewhat shaky and uncertain, but still there.

“We can save him,” Twilight said, pushing to his feet and rolling out a stiffness in his shoulder.

Hyrule jumped to his feet after him, scowling. “Excuse me? You just got over a concussion.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Sky muttered, sharing an exasperated glance with Legend.

“Yes, I just got over it, which means I’m good to go,” Twilight said, grinning savagely; a grin that promised death for whatever unfortunate monsters that decided to put themselves between him and his goal. “The potion fixed me right up. What’s more, I’m not going to sit around while one of our brothers needs my help.”

He picked up his shield and drew his sword, giving it an experimental twirl. “What do you say, veteran?”

Legend stepped back, slipping out of Sky’s grip. His hand went to his own sword, the enchanted handle familiar and warm beneath his palm. He lifted his chin and grit his teeth, gaze sweeping around the room. All his companions stood ready on their feet, hands on weapons but eyes on him. They looked at him, and he didn’t see a single twinge of distrust or fear. Just confidence and determination and courage.

Maybe he should have expected that, though. After all, courage was what brought them together.

Legend drew his own sword with a flourish and held it out towards Twilight, crossing their blades in the formal salute. “Let’s go save our smith.”

*-/-*-/-*-/-*-/-*

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cannibal-witchh · 4 years ago

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Pyramid Head Headcannons

Valentine's Day Edition 💝

(Fluff, decided not to make it NSFW because I understand not every reader is sexual, written for all genders)

Written by cannibal_witchh

PH isn't human so he doesn't exactly understand what holidays are just that they are similar to yearly rituals

He's pretty terrible at celebrating but adleast tries

He starts by taking you to a room away from potential threats like nurses and monsters

Lit candles scattered all along the ground, surrounding a dirty aged mattress which he's draped an old bath towel with

The very back wall of the room, PH has drawn in blood a poorly drawn heart for you

He doesn't really know what a heart looks like, besides the one's he rips out and crushes

Little broken, and rusty trinkets will be resting on top of a wooden crate beside the mattress

That's his version of a gift. While patrolling the halls of Silent Hill, he will gather things such as buttons from lost clothing, and corroded broken toys that scatter the building

He finds them to be suitable because they remind him of how small you are compared to him

A few cans of food will sit beside the trinkets. He tries to collect as many as he can to keep you fed

Usually, it's a very strange combination he's discovered. This time its a can of spaghetti, peas, and peaches

While you sit on the mattress to eat, he will stand absolutely still by the door entrance just watching you

Once you are done, he will present you with small varieties of chocolates but they all seem too old to eat

He doesn't quite understand humans can't eat old food, and doesn't grasp that canned goods can survive longer than other foods

He decides to finally let you patrol with him for a little excitement. Holding your hand tightly with one of his, while the other drags his long blade on the concrete

Any monsters that tries attacking, he immediately destroys with a single swing of his sword

He occasionally gives you a little head pat or tap on the butt to be playful while the patrol continues

Once the patrolling is done, he will pick you up in his arm and carry you back to the room

You thank him tiredly with several kisses on his helmet and scatter kisses along his chest

He always loves the tiny little kisses you plant all over him even if he refrains from showing too much joy

He holds you the best way he can, providing you warmth and safety

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, while your head rests on his lap, he'll stroke your hair and the sound of his raspy breathing will fill the silence

When you finally sleep he gaurds the door and watches you the entire time ensuring your safety

#pyramid head #the executioner #dbd #dead by daylight #silent hill #horror #valentine's day fanfic #fanfic #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head fanfic #silent hill fanfic #the executioner fanfic #the executioner x reader #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight fanfic #fluff #horror fanfic #horror valentines day

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letstalkloz · 3 years ago

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Let’s Talk Skyward Sword

Originally released November 18, 2011 for the series’ 25th anniversary, and then rereleased in HD for the Switch July 16, 2021 for the series’ 35th anniversary, The Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword is a game that utilizes motion controls in order to make the player feel more involved in the gameplay. While ratings now place this game between a 4/5 and a 4.8/5, I remember this game being poorly received by the community back in 2011/2012, so why the high ratings now? Let’s talk about it.

Skyward Sword starts off like how a lot of Legend of Zelda games do- Link fast asleep in his bed, and someone coming to wake him up so he can finally get started on that hero’s journey. Instead of being located in Hyrule though, we’re given the chance to explore the world above the clouds, Skyloft, where people fly around on giant birds known as Loftwings. The first issue Link must solve involves running around Slyloft looking for his missing bird. This is where we’re given the tutorial stage on how to climb, swing a sword using motion controls, and where we’re introduced to the colorful array of characters this floating island has to offer, including Link’s longtime friend, Zelda, and his longtime bully, Groose.

You’ll quickly find out that you’re not limited to just Skyloft for this game. After finding Link’s loftwing and winning a flying competition, Zelda rewards Link with a sailcloth, which works as a mini parachute to break your fall when jumping from extreme heights. In the middle of flying around with Zelda in a cutscene, a tornado strikes, knocking Link out while carrying Zelda to the surface below the clouds. When Link wakes again, he’s told by Zelda’s father, Gaepora, that she is gone.

When Gaepora leaves, the cutscene ends and you’re free to continue exploring Skyloft at night. A spirit-looking figure will be waiting for Link out in the hallway, and following her to the Goddess Statue will reveal a sword in a stone. Draw the sword, and get thrown into another cutscene of Gaepora explaining the mysteries of the land beneath the clouds. Link promises to travel down to the surface to find Zelda, changes into the knight’s uniform (the classic green tunic and hat combo), and flies off on his loftwing to an opening in the clouds where he dives down, and the real journey begins.

Alright, that was a lot for an opening section, but I think having a longer tutorial stage here works in the game’s favor. Skyward Sword relies heavily on motion controls (unless you’re playing the HD remake and turn them off). It’s not as easy as pressing a button anymore. You’re also not in a land that’s familiar to you. This isn’t Hyrule, this is Skyloft, a world above the clouds where if you’re not paying attention, you can just walk off the edge and plummet down into the clouds. Taking the time to get people used to the controls, having a stamina bar, and learning the area and the characters living there is not what I’d consider wasted time. Normally I hate long, drawn out tutorial stages (looking at you Twilight Princess), but here, I think it works, or at least makes sense.

Now why the poor reception initially? Two big things: the motion controls, and the world itself. Looking at games like Ocarina of Time or Twilight Princess where you’re able to run from one end of the map to another without having to go through drawn out cutscenes add to that open world feel of the games. Skyward Sword doesn’t have that. You can’t walk from the desert to Death Mountain to the forest. You have to fly to each area that you want to explore, and then are limited to that part of the map until you return to the skies. As for the motion controls, most people who played on the Wii reported problems with the Wii Motion+ not registering their movements. While I managed to get through the vast majority of the game with no issues, my Wii Motion+ stopped working right at the final boss fight, preventing me from ever truly beating the game. Thankfully the HD Switch version has resolved a lot of the issues with the motion controls, hence the newfound praise of the game.

Now do I recommend Skyward Sword? Yes, but depending on what you look for in a game, this might not be your favorite. It’s not my favorite, but it is high on my list, because I go into these games for the lore. I love fun characters and world building, so seeing the land of Hyrule before it became the kingdom we know and love was so exciting! Now, if you go into Legend of Zelda games for the open world exploration, this game might disappoint in that area. The sections of the world are creative and fun to explore, but it’s not a true open world. Even if the limited world exploration and the motion controls make you question how much you’ll get out of this game, I do suggest picking up Skyward Sword and at least trying it out. Get through the tutorial stage and go have fun exploring that first dungeon and fighting that first boss. The story carries this game, and it’s a memorable one that new fans can get into, and long time Zelda fans will appreciate.

#the legend of zelda #loz #skyward sword #let’s talk #nintendo switch

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archoneddzs15 · 5 months ago

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PC Engine - Ninja Ryukenden (Ninja Gaiden)

Title: Ninja Ryukenden / 忍者龍剣伝

Developer/Publisher: Hudson-Era H.K. / Hudson Soft / TECMO

Release date: 24 January 1992

Catalogue No.: HC92052

Genre: Action

Format: HuCard

First, we had Sega's Shinobi. When I was 9 years old, I spent many a quarter on the arcade version (and much of my allowance, to my mother's dismay (^O^). Why? Simple: ninjas are the video game world's greatest and most versatile heroes. So how do you 1-Up an awesome game like Shinobi?

I found out that Christmas in 2010 when I received Ninja Gaiden for my PC Engine, developed by a Hong Kong-based joint venture between Hudson Soft and Era Communications Inc. I popped that box open, grabbed the HuCard, and bashed it into my PC Engine CoreGrafx so quickly it nearly choked on it. I flick on the power and sit back. And THAT'S when it caught my eye... HOLY CRAP!! CUT-SCENES!! CUT SCENES ON MY 8-BIT CONSOLE!!

I was floored: I almost thought I was watching a movie; I had NEVER seen this high-quality look on my system! So I watch one ninja fall to the ground, and then I see the guy who would be the hero: Ryu Hayabusa...Ninja, Ladie's Man, Professional Ass Kicker.

I didn't even hit Run (PC Engine lingo for "Start") yet, and I was too impressed already! Anyway, Ninja Gaiden's got it all. Ryu's quite fleet-footed, quick on the draw with his sword, and slices and dices like no one's business. He listens to your every command (read: dead-on control). He does about 50 flips in the air during a jump. He's got cool Ninja Arts to aid him on his quest, including shuriken, Windmill Shuriken (they boomerang all over the screen!!), the Spinning Blade (jump and slash in a circle), and the Invincible Fire Wheel (TOASTY VILLAINS!!). And he'll need them, too...I'll explain why later.

Although I did explain the cut scenes already, I think I should go into a bit more detail and cover the in-game graphics, sound, and music while I'm at it. The cutscenes in this game, for 1988 on the Famicom, were amazing. For 1992 on the PC Engine, it looked even more so.

They conveyed the story in such a way that it almost seems like an anime OVA (incidentally, there was a Ninja Gaiden OVA in Japan, but it was poorly written and animated, and Ryu was only a bit character in it. BLASPHEMY!!), and you get such a feel for the characters that you would think that they were alive and for real. The story is nothing short of excellent, and the game plays it out perfectly, breaking the action up into six acts of 2 to 5 stages each, for a grand total of 21 stages. The difficulty level in the game slowly progresses from very easy to hardcore gamer tough, but it progresses steadily from stage to stage. The bosses fall in the same category as well, with a very easy first boss to a hair-yanking hard final boss. More on the difficulty later.

The graphics in this game are pretty good, albeit a little grainy. Everyone is of a decent size but oddly drawn, but the animation in this game is just stunning; it's so fluid that you wouldn't think at first that this is still just an 8-bit console competing in the 16-bit console wars. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, has at least 3 to 4 frames of animation; even little details like Ryu throwing a weapon look awesome in motion! The sounds are pretty good for a PC Engine HuCard although a few sounds are a little odd like the "FWP-SPLSH!" sound enemies make when they're killed (sounds like an explosion splashing into water!), and Ryu somehow makes this blasting sound when he gets hit. Is he laden with nitro or something? ^_^

But never mind that, the big draw in the sound department? The MUSIC!! Mark my words: MUSIC MAKES OR BREAKS THE GAME!! In this case, it doesn't just MAKE the game, it's the BLOOD WORK!! The music in this game is just TOO FUCKING GOOD!! The composer made some excellent use of the PC Engine's sound processors, which is just a miracle, honestly. It's so awesome that I used to use the Sound Test code, then tape all the tunes off the TV with a portable tape recorder held to the speaker, just to listen to it later. It's THAT GOOD!! Every single tune, even to this day, rings in my head for all eternity, and out of every track, my personal favorite, the track from Stage 4-2 (Bazlisk Mine Field) just RULES! Thanks to emulation (and the Internet!), I now have the entire soundtrack in MP3 format, and I still can't get over how amazing the music is!

youtube

#turbografx 16 #ninja gaiden #koei tecmo #tecmo #Youtube

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years ago

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Melting Ice and Warmth and Words

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Teba x Saki, 8505 Words

I made this fic for @zzariyo for my server’s gift exchange event! Hope you enjoy, I had a lot of fun with it :3

In which Harth is the gay best friend(TM), Teba is a god damn fool, and I become a lesbian for Saki. Also this was slightly based on a post about how Saki threatens Teba with a sword.

This is the tumblr version but check it out on AO3 if you prefer

- - - - - - - - - -

"Historians probably hate you," Harth mumbled, as he tested the weight of his bow. "This is, what, the third time you've stolen priceless artifacts?"

Teba continued flipping through the pages. The sound of rustling parchment melded with the crackling fire behind him. A soothing mix of leather and pine aromas filled the Flight Range.

"It's not stealing if no one knows it exists," Teba countered, not bothering to look up.

"Yet."

He shrugged. "Yet."

Another sigh filled the air, and the two of them went back to their respective preparations. Harth set down his Swallow Bow and went to fill up two sets of quivers, while Teba continued poring through the personal history of a dead Champion.

It had been a day or two since he had found yet another artifact from a century ago. The depths of the Flight Range, and the expanse of the not-so-well-kept records in the library hid all too many secrets, to which Teba had taken full advantage.

This journal was worn, cracked smoky leather showing its fragile age. Although in comparison to its two predecessors—Revali's Diary and The Great Revali's Diary respectively—this journal was in much better condition. Other than by the contents of the pages itself, Teba had discovered you could decipher the chronological order of the diaries based on how sophisticated the titles were. The more extravagant ones being more recent, that is.

The warrior let out a huff after perusing through another paragraph of dark, cursive writing. He continued digging through the pages with an aura of frustration. Harth, ever one to press his buttons, glanced back.

"So if you don't plan to inform everyone else about your latest finding, yet, what exactly are you doing with it now?"

Another turn of the page. "The same thing I've done before. Searching for clues."

A smirk formed on Harth's face. "Hm. You know these days it's hard for you to read a cookbook properly without help."

"Shut up will you, I'm trying to focus."

A shrug, and then a beat of silence; the two of them basked for a moment in the piercing wind that cut through the Flight Range. The flickering shadows cast by the fire only served to add to the almost haunting beauty that tonight brought. The chilling midnight moon was a barely distinguishable sliver, white against white in the brewing storm. Teba could only long for the soft hammock of his home. Although, it's not like he would be relaxing anyway.

Nearly all hours of the day, if he wasn't practicing with his bow, he was poring through a damn book. It definitely wasn't out of a passion for reading, but more of a desire to spite his superiors.

Elder Kaneli had yakked his beak off about how the "bow of Champion Revali is our last physical connection to our valuable history" and thus was not to be taken out of its chest, ever. So there went Teba's dreams of dissecting it and constructing a masterful bow of his own.

Kaneli had said that a "young Rito like yourself shouldn't spend so much time out in the cold." So there went Teba's desire to devote himself to archery, shackled by the Flight Range's new "curfew," which was essentially a bedtime.

And, years ago, after a teenage Teba had found the very first diary of the Rito Champion, showing it off to the respected elder as quick as he could, Kaneli had beamed in his rocking chair and said, "Oh hoo! We shall get to storing it immediately!" So there went Teba's achievement, gathering dust in a box for a good three weeks before he had just decided to start sneaking into the records at night to pore through it. "Preserve the paper's integrity" his ass, he knew the librarian just hated him for that time his makeshift bomb arrow had caused her tail feathers to smell burnt for a month.

At nearly every turn, there was always something that hindered Teba's progress towards getting clues about how to master Revali's Gale. If that wasn't enough, Kaneli had been nagging him more and more lately about settling down and relaxing. Just a few years ago, Kaneli had been all about training him to be a mighty warrior, but nowadays the elder just couldn't seem to shut up about "exploring new pastimes!"

So here he was, with his new pastime. Reading, like the thrilling warrior he was.

Teba rolled his eyes after skimming through another paragraph. He hurriedly turned through a few more pages, the rustling parchment catching Harth's eye once again.

"So how's the research going? Is it just brimming with inspiring details about how to command the wind?"

Teba chuckled, although there was clear bitterness in the tone. He held up and flipped the journal around, so that Harth could read the contents written within.

"You tell me..."

~The Eighth of Nayru's Moon~

Once again, that little knight has failed to so much as acknowledge my presence. He probably wouldn't know charisma and impeccable skill if it was shoved right into his perfect face— and goddess believe me, I have tried as such.

Just today, I was— formerly assumed alone— at the Flight Range, practicing my Gale, when from the corner of my eye I saw him watching me. His face, an unfortunate yet predictable bland block of carving wood. Even after witnessing my masterful abilities? HA! His dead gaze borders on blindness.

To think, the King is looking to appoint him as the princess' personal guard. I should think someone as unperceptive as he would do better as a cleaning maid. Forget the quick instincts of battle, I'm sure he'd be dead in an instant. He just blankly looks and looks, and stares and stares. All he ever does is stare at me, unassuming... with those striking blue eyes of his.

Too striking. Distracting even. If he dares show his stupid, atrociously awful face at my Flight Range again, I might just have to nip his poorly drawn bowstring myself. Followed by a legendary duel to the death, of course.

Then again, if he for some reason stops by tomorrow, I wouldn't mind that much.

Harth leaned back and gave Teba a smirk. "So, that's a no on the Gale research then?"

Teba let out another huff, snapping the book closed and getting on his feet. "Nothing but boy troubles in this one. He has to have kept more entries out there that could actually be useful to me."

Fiddling with an arrow shaft in one wing, Harth went back to filling the quivers. He let out a laugh. "Ah, I'm sure it's not all useless! At least now you know you're not the only Rito in history who's terrible at flirting."

A scoff. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"That was literally about as straightforward as I could have been with this topic."

"Well do me straighter."

Harth proceeded to have a coughing fit for five minutes.

The sounds of wheezing laughter and less than polite comments from Teba echoed through the Flight Range.

"Hylia, I may not be looking for a wife, but I hope one day I adopt or something just so I can tell my grandkids how much of an idiot you are," Harth finally said, at the end of their colorful banter. "But yes, thank you for proving my point. A Boko skull has a better grasp on charisma than you."

The warrior crossed his wings over his chest, looking away. "Well sorry that I've been focusing on my strengths rather than dabbling in immaturities."

"Remember when you were in the infirmary and you tried to tell that nurse, Saki," he snorted, "You tried to tell her she had nice posture–"

"Shut it. Shut it and quit your grinning before I shove you into the fire and use the arrows as kindling."

Another laugh echoes, and the most Teba can do is narrow his eyes. But after a beat, he perks up and looks back in his direction. "How do you know her name?"

Harth raised an eyebrow. "Saki? Well I don't know, she treated me during that Ice Talus accident a month back. I probably just asked for her name at some point, you know, like a normal person." He shook his head. "Spirits above, Teba, you've probably been in that infirmary more than I have. Have you really not gained the social skills to ask for someone's name?"

He stared at the very interesting and engaging wooden floor, shifting his weight between his legs. "I don't have to answer that."

"Oh, woe is you. Kaneli never gave you a pep talk about how to make friends?"

"HA! I think our conversational topics peaked in the days where he actually encouraged my archery training. Less 'pep talk,' more 'lecture,' nowadays."

"Alright, alright, save your daddy problems for breakfast, Teba."

Teba glowered much in the way a Lynel would to its soon-to-be-dead prey, feeding Harth's amusement.

"Anyhow, you needn't go so hard on the guy, he just doesn't want you to kill yourself, which is especially relevant tonight." He turned around and picked up the now fully stocked quivers. "Now that you've finally managed to tug your beak out of that book," he tossed one to the huffy bird, "Let's go slay some monsters."

Teba's earlier expression morphed into stern concentration, emotion dripping away in favour of a practiced warrior's focus. He grasped one of the arrows and inspected the tip. "Fire arrows? Wouldn't bomb arrows be more effective on monsters?" The night seemed to turn colder to match his more serious tone.

The charcoal feathered Rito slung his bow and quiver onto his back, speaking quickly as he worked. "Not necessarily. We want as much vision as we can, can't risk getting blind-sided by even one of its attacks. Explosions would give even more cover to an already invisible foe." He also mumbled something about how he barely had the income to afford them.

There was a moment of silence as Teba calculated and turned over Harth's words, before putting the pieces together. He gave a confident nod as confirmation.

"So… have you ever slain a Wizzrobe before?" Harth asked.

The warrior smirked to himself, turning towards the exit with bow and quiver. White against white as he stood on the snow covered landing.

"Not yet."

- - - - -

Thunderous sounds in a frozen tundra; it came after the ripple of footsteps.

Jaded peaks weathered grey, the sky couldn’t be distinguished from the land. The snow had pounded harder and harder as they flew, flurries coating the feathered fletchings on their arrows.

Harth landed first, walking around on the open, frigid expanse. Teba did a sweep of the surroundings from the air. Nothing.

The base of the Hebra Mountain Trail— just under the shadow of the South Summit— this was where the last attack was. Hopefully it was where the final one was too.

There had been three travelers total; two Rito, one Hylian merchant. Minor injuries. Most all ran away at the first sign of frostbite. It was normal for the occasional monster attack to come up every now and again, and it just wouldn’t be worth the resources to hunt down every Lizalfos and Bokoblin that happened upon some unfortunate soul. By the time anyone lives to tell the tale, the beast has probably already moved miles from where it was last seen. The Hebra wasn’t exactly the most accommodating of places to enjoy long term.

And so that was the excuse. Save the supplies for bigger threats. An Ice Talus, Hinox… Hylia forbid a Lynel. A Wizzrobe would probably be off dancing in the sunset by now, and thus, no warriors should waste supplies looking for an “unnecessary fight."

Teba remembered scoffing when he heard the news— a scoff apparently so spiteful, that it had earned him a rare glare from Kaneli.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Teba. You won’t be recklessly going off alone to find it, understand? I mean it!”

Teba perched on one of the cliffs, getting a clear view of Harth below, surrounded by white on white on white. Harth turned his head and gave a thumbs up in his direction.

Well, that was one half of the instructions followed. The “stupid” part is still up in the air, though.

Teba unslung his Falcon Bow from his back, resting a fire arrow on the bowstring’s serving. If someone were to look up at where he crouched, they would be greeted by a piercing golden gaze; a pair of cold suns that sent you shivering.

That was the intent, anyhow. A warrior with a gaze like fire. Like lightning, like metal, like suns, like steel. That’s what he’d been told in the past, so he might as well use it to his advantage.

Still… he remembered once how someone had compared them to honey.

“What?” He had been taken aback by the sudden observation.

“Or like butterscotch… I use it a lot when baking. Oh! I’ve seen gorgeous dandelions like it too.” The nurse—“Saki?” Did Harth say?—tended to the wound just below his eye. “You should be thankful the color is so pleasant, the sight is probably what caused that Moblin to miss its mark!” Saki smiled and for the first time, Teba understood what it meant to call something “the sun.”

“Make sure you don’t use those eyes of yours to go looking for more trouble. Or else…” She had narrowed her eyes playfully. Noticing him just staring at her in silence, she cocked her head to the side, curious.

“Sorry, was there something you wanted to say to me?”

Yeah, but I’m not sure what. All he could really notice at that moment was how relaxed her posture was around him. Usually, he was surrounded by his fellow rigid warriors, or the stance of someone that looked in his eyes and saw fire. So…she was a nice change of pace.

Too bad his communication skills could be trumped by a deflated octoballon. Teba's sigh manifested into a small white puff in the cold air. Nevermind that now.

He had to stay focused. Teba would cut no corners when it came to using Harth as bait. However, he couldn’t deny the somewhat pissy mood he was in. No Gale, no practice, no clues, no fights. Sooner or later the village might just strap him into a rocking chair and say it was for the best. What a joke… At least killing off a dangerous creature would help let off some steam— ice? Magic ice…water…arrows… fuck.

Teba rolled his eyes at his own incompetence. Can’t even be a decent wordsmith in my own head. Harth was right.

A sudden flash of movement and his mind immediately crashed back to reality. Eyes instantly trained back to the ash colored Rito on the ground, who had now turned and aimed his bow at the horizon. Not even a second after the movement was made, Teba had an arrow nocked and aimed in one practiced, fluid motion.

Harth had two arrows nocked, aiming towards an unseen target obscured in the haze of snow.

Black against the pale of midnight’s frigid sheet of snow. If Harth could see something, it would no doubt also see him. He stepped forward, Swallow Bow unwavering in the wind

Teba adjusted the draw of his bow, training its angle to match Harth’s movements and ready to release at a moments notice.

The crunch of talons on snow. A small patch of dead bushes just a few paces in front of Harth.

One step.

Two…

Suddenly, an arctic fox dashed to the right and disappeared into the snow.

A draining silence. Steady, freezing breaths condense into puffs of clouds out of Teba’s beak. There was still a knot of tension in his chest, but he could start to feel it ripple out, like a patter of footsteps as a mix of closed off fear and anxiety walked out the door. Still, he didn’t falter his draw. After a moment, he saw Harth put down his bow and sigh. The Rito turned towards Teba’s direction to give him a smile and a shrug.

Harth met his gaze.

Then, the expression on his face suddenly morphed into shock.

Teba didn’t think twice.

He snapped around and let gravity take him, loosing the already nocked flame. The hiss of fire flew and connected with its target with a satisfying crack! Midfall, he could hear Harth shout a much too late “Behind you!”

The fire arrow hit rock, crumbling stones clash against snow. The burst of flame roared like thunder on the cliffside. Although the creature wasn’t hit, the area of effect was still large enough to singe at the tips of cloth.

A pearly white robe that faded deathly blue. The glow of ice and dark silhouette. A shrill cry escaped from the Wizzrobe that had stood, wand in hand, behind Teba’s perch just seconds ago. Even in distress, it wore a chilling grin.

Bastard. You won’t get another chance.

Another flame nocked and loosed with lightning speed.

The creature laughed, as if in pity, and twirled in its step.

Gone.

Teba gave a flap of his wings to stop his momentum. His talons safely connected with the ground, and Harth was at his side at once.

“Are you alright!? Are you hit?!” Harth started to inspect his wing, but Teba continued staring at the sky, “S-Say something, dammit! Teba we need to—”

He held up a wing, the gesture with an unspoken tone of “shut it.” Teba readied another fire arrow and pointed into the air. He whispered.

“Listen…”

His eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to discern sounds from the muffle of wind. Harth pressed back and covered Teba’s blind spot, nocking an arrow of his own.

The wind was unaccompanied. The dead bushes shuddered a tempo.

And then the midnight sang.

Like the pleasant echo of a music box…a lullaby that seemed to twinkle against the brink of night and day. A ripple of footsteps. A sparkle to his left, skipping like stones, as if the wind was water. There was a faint laugh, but Teba was the one to smile.

Gotcha.

The Wizzrobe had barely manifested before the fire arrow flew. A burst of orange connected with its frail arm, and the creature shrieked. Harth quickly turned and fired his own shot, the arrow nearly lodging into its face, but arching low and hitting its torso instead. The Wizzrobe panicked while the two Rito went to reload.

“Go for the face!” Harth shouted as he went to grab two arrows from his quiver. “It’s the only part that’s not protected by that stupid magic robe!”

As if on cue, the Wizzrobe had started laughing to itself, its arms flailing wildly as the flames that engulfed its person suddenly disappeared. It gripped its Blizzard Rod in both hands, starting to twirl with a sickening grin.

Teba aimed for the sky. “Move!”

Harth shuffled back in obedience as fire soared. The arrow crashed into a giant sphere of ice that hurtled from the heavens, shattering into pieces just a few feet above their head.

The impact caused them both to fly backwards, the bow knocked out of Teba’s grip.

Hmm… fuck.

Teba crashed hard, tasting dirt and snow. Luckily Harth was able to get in position to fire an arrow.

Its arc through the air was cut short by multiple more icy spheres hurtling down around the Wizzrobe.

Harth cursed under his breath. While they were far enough away to avoid the barrage of ice magic that would no doubt freeze them with a single touch, it would be nearly impossible to get close enough for a kill. Teba picked himself up and crouched beside Harth.

“How much fire total?”

Harth shook his head and stared at the ground. “I was so concerned with not arousing suspicion…sneaking out to fight was one thing, but—”

“This is no time for regrets. How many fire arrows, dammit?”

Harth let out a huff. “I bought a bundle of five and split them between us. The last fifteen in each quiver are regular ones. Although at this angle I doubt they would be of any use.”

Teba’s eyes sat calculating for a moment. “So I’ve used two. One hit, one miss. And you—”

“I landed the third just earlier on its torso. The forth…” He turned in the direction of the shower of ice. He could see it smash against the wooden remnants of an arrow. “I used just now.”

Hylia forgive the less than polite words towards the spirits that Teba spoke.

Harth gave a nod towards Teba’s quiver, while handing him his Swallow Bow. “Here. I gave the extra to the best shot around. I’ll distract it while you make the last shot count.”

Teba scoffed. “You and I both know you can’t just adjust to a new bow on the fly and expect to be accur—”

“Well if you’ve got a better plan, I’m more than happy to hear it!”

Teba grimaced. Always life and its impossible instructions.

The warrior slung his quiver in front of him, indeed confirming the last fire arrow nestled between the regular ones. He took the Swallow Bow in hand and gave another glance towards the Wizzrobe.

Its earlier spell had stopped now, and it was now skipping all too happily towards them. The ripples of its chiming steps seemed to glow brighter and brighter as it approached.

Tsk. What a gloat. It’s not even bothering to sneak up on us anymore.

Harth gave a flap of his wings and hovered. “I’ll lure it near the base of the mountain trail, and you flank. Do what you must, it’s all you.” He took to the air and began taunting the Wizzrobe, attracting its attention.

Teba cursed. He harshly slung the quiver back around him while taking up the bow. In the motion, a journal dropped into the snow.

“Crap, the…” He trailed off, observing it for a moment. The words on the page it had opened up on caught his eye.

~The Twentieth of Starset Moon~

I hope a Wizzrobe carries me off before I see him again. I envy their magical ability to disappear from sight at a moment’s notice. Maybe then I wouldn’t embarrass myself so in front of Link.

I've always called my eyes a mere jade. A simple enough descriptive hue, and on occasion it would serve as a masterful segue into a pun about how the best warriors have a gaze that can pierce like stone. But no, he just had to call it, “grass.”

“Actually, I’m fairly certain that the hues of Hyrule’s earthly flora are much lighter than the color of my eyes.” I had said. “Like I previously stated. Jade, or emerald works. Jagged jade if you are akin to alliteration.”

Curse my arrogance as my response only caused him to elaborate. “It’s not just the color” he had said. “It’s like a sensation. I like just looking at fields. To lie in them, and smell, and be in comfort in the grass and outside.” He shrugged like nothing was wrong. “Your eyes give me that comfort.”

Hylia is a cruel goddess to curse us Rito to become round puffballs whenever emotions get the better of us. THANKFULLY, he didn’t notice as he then started to ramble on and on about his—slightly concerning—knowledge about the flammability of plants. How flaming weapons and flint produced different embers. How any fire arrow can become a bomb arrow with enough kindling. How you could tell the flammability of certain flora based on the shade of green. He noted how my own eyes were not the most flammable, so… there’s that compliment, I suppose.

There was a roar in the distance as ice crashed onto the earth. Teba snapped the journal shut again.

The Wizzrobe had cast another spell, a blur of charcoal feathers could be seen dodging the attacks.

Teba stood sifting through his thoughts as quickly as he could. Whatever power above had caused him to stumble upon this entry…he’d have to thank them later when he had the time and the faith.

The idea was obvious in hindsight. If he couldn’t guarantee a shot at a small target, then make the target bigger.

The warrior took the fire arrow in one wing, and the journal in the other. The diary was old and dry, and obviously it had a much bigger surface area than an arrow tip.

So he quickly took the very last fire arrow and pierced it through.

It burst into flames in an instant. It certainly wouldn’t pierce anything, but with the bigger area of impact…combined with a new reckless plan, there wouldn’t be any need to.

He smiled and took towards the air.

“Uhh, Teba???” Harth yelled as he saw his friend approach, flying closer with a flaming book arrow in his beak. “What are you— fuck! Ay! Over here, princess!” Harth tugged at the Wizzrobe’s robe, luring its face towards Teba.

He couldn’t talk with the arrow and piece of flaming historical documentation in his beak, but he cocked his head in such a way to signal to Harth to turn.

“But?! Its face!” A fierce shake of his head in response. “Dammit Teba!”

Harth soared around the creature in a semicircle, avoiding its bursts of ice that make the feathers on his neck puff. The Wizzrobe turned to wave its wand, it’s backside now exposed to Teba.

The warrior quickly unslung his quiver and threw the leather strap around its neck, the weight of the arrows falling on the other side towards its chin.

“TEBA WHAT THE FUCK!?”

The Wizzrobe halted its midair dance, turning in the direction that the new weight had come from. The Blizzard Rod was already starting to glow.

“That’s right!” Teba shouted, as he took the flaming book arrow out of his beak. “Show me that ugly grin of yours!”

He gave one last flap of his wings before letting gravity take him, nocking the arrow on the Swallow Bow. As predicted, he couldn’t fully compensate for the difference in the bow.

Its weight was all different, the string strength was all wrong, the grip was much more loose than he’d have preferred—

Through the haze of snow, and paper, and his own pale feathers, the Wizzrobe’s shining grin greeted Teba in full.

White on white.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Catch!”

The arrow loosed.

The flaming book seemed to soar in slow motion, or perhaps that was just on account of its weight. It arched high, nearly on path to connect with the creatures gleaming teeth, but the strength just wasn’t there and it bowed lower still to the Wizzrobe’s neck.

FWOOSH!

The journal was destroyed on impact, paper glowing and fluttering. The creatures’ attire was set alight, but all it did was laugh like it was an inconvenience. Like a party trick it had already gotten tired off. It started to try and pat itself down, but…

“Let’s see you laugh now, bastard.”

The quiver’s leather wouldn’t catch on its own given its natural resistance. But with the flutter of dried parchment…

All it took was one fiery page, and the arrows caught. The Wizzrobe suddenly suddenly shrieked, but the sound was muffled and cut off by sputtering and the sound of what Teba could only assume was suffocation. The bundle of arrows glowed like a campfire, the flames engulfing the creature's neck and already licking at its face. It attempted to remove the quiver wrapped around it with both arms, tossing the Blizzard Rod into the air in panic, but it was already too late.

The giant necklace of kindling roared in the Wizzrobe’s face, and in seconds, the icy beast was reduced to mist. The wind its grave, as the last of its magical robe rippled in the night.

Teba landed on the ground, eyes bright with unexpected happiness as he cheered.

“WOOOOO! Did you see that!?! I can’t believe that worked holy fucking shit, take THAT asshole.” He shouted into the air with a rare show of relief. THANK YOU Champion Revali and that Hylian knight arsonist! Gods, who knew reading would be so—”

“ROD!”

“Wh—” Teba turned in time to see Harth flapping towards him. But closer still, Teba saw the blur of the Blizzard Rod falling through the air, just seconds away from impacting the ground.

Hmm…

Gravity surely wouldn’t simulate the effects of waving a magic ice wand around, right?

SHING!

Fuck.

A burst of ice exploded from the rod’s impact, Harth slammed into Teba just as he could feel the cold travel to the tips of his wings.

The two Rito crashed into the snow, and Teba was able to taste the delicious flavours of snow, stone, and dirt for the second time. He propped himself up with a wing that was now faintly aching. He had a bit of a coughing fit, as Harth got up.

“Teba…” he trailed off, still in a bit of shock. “Wh…Where the hell’d you get a crazy idea like that from?”

The warrior had the strength to shrug with one shoulder. “New hobby?”

Harth playfully shoved Teba back into the snow as they both laughed.

Teba stared up at the frozen sky. It was already fading blue, the brink of night and day tipping towards a yet unseen sun.

That wasn’t so bad. Just a few arrows, a quiver, a book, and we’ve got justice for our village. If we hurry we can make it back before breakfast and Kaneli’s none the wiser.

Harth stood over him and offered a wing. “Alright, let’s go grab your bow and get out of here. I think I can feel my tail feathers freezing off.”

Teba shivered, reaching out to get up. “Yeah, no kidding. It’s almost like it—GUH!” He crumpled to his knees.

“Teba!” Harth propped up his back as he went to inspect him. He gasped when he saw his wing.

The black feather accents were laced with ice, the very tips of his wing were already starting to become glassy and stiff. Teba held back a yelp as he felt the ice grow further up his wing.

“Oh shitshitshit, that Blizzard Rod still got you.” Harth frantically went to remove a piece of cloth from his armour to wrap it around the ice. “Try to keep that warm. Uh. The mountain lodge is nearby, maybe we can get a blanket? Oh shitshitshit….”

Teba mumbled something incoherent as he felt the ice grow further.

“Guh… We can just keep this incident between us like planned, yeah? Kaneli is gonna be pissed that I blew up his quiver.’”

“Idiot! Get on my back, you could lose a wing!”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I could probably still fly.”

“Your feathers are snapping off, fuckface!”

Harth tried to get Teba to stand, but stopped when he started to hiss in pain. The cold on his left wing was starting to course through his whole body, and he shivered.

“Ok, ok. Maybe it’ll warm up when I get in the air. I’ll just start flapping a lot to keep the blood flowing. That’s how that works, right?”

“At that rate, you’ll not only be brainless, but wingless too.” A sudden voice echoed.

The boys looked up to see a set of pink feathers descend from the air. Harth’s eyes glowed with both immense relief and confusion.

“Thank Hylia, Saki….wait, what are you doing here, I—”

“Shhhhh…” Saki took out a sword, causing further confusion and shock to come to the boys. “All you need to know for now is that I was by the Hebra Trailhead Lodge when I heard a commotion that I can only assume you two fools caused.” She tried to press the blade against the ice on Teba’s wing.

Teba’s eyes darted between Harth and Saki. The feathers nearly everywhere on him but his left wing started to puff up given how close she was. He could smell a mix of nutmeg and warm safflina from her.

“I…uh…” Teba was rapped in the head with the broad side of Saki’s sword. “Ah! Hey—”

“Don’t move, before I decide on amputation.” Both of the warrior’s eyes widened. “Just joking! Ahaha… for now anyway.” Her cute little chuckle echoed in the air.

Saki finally put down the blade. She shook her head, the curls of her hair bouncing above her shoulders. “It’s already too strong to scrape off.” Harth’s head was turning left and right above them, like a child trying to get a peak of the action. Digging through the satchel on her shoulder, Saki took out a few heads of sunshrooms.

“Hold these, we don’t want that ice magic seeping in any further. It can spread to the blood faster than you think.” Teba’s beak was still agape when he obliged.

The pink colored Rito gave him a soft smile as she tucked a wing under his neck. She expertly flipped the Feathered Edge in her wing, so that it’s blunt side was aimed at Teba,

“Now, if your muscles move and contract any more, it’s just gonna cause any of the ice inside there to snap, effectively paralyzing you. We need to make sure there's no chance of that happening.”

Saki leaned down and pressed her head against Teba’s for a moment, planting the Rito equivalent of a peck on the cheek. “Take that as my premature apology.” Saki said. And that was the last thing he heard before he saw the swing of the blade’s hilt and everything went black.

- - - - -

Teba awoke with the sun in his eyes. He blinked, adjusting his gaze before identifying a blur of pink feathers in front of him.

“—and no doubt they’ve discovered you’re missing by now if she hasn’t said anything already. I’d fly back myself to inform the elders, but…” She trailed off, fiddling with the bandage.

“I could do it. You’ve probably already got your plate full with—gah!” A broad side of a Feathered Edge whacked Harth’s head.

“No. You need to keep that cut warm and toasty and uninfected. This bind won’t hold in those strong winds, and we can’t have the Tabantha skies blowing dust and grime into it.” Saki used her blade to cut the excess bandage on Harth’s neck, to which he slightly gulped.

Teba tried to sit up from where he lay. The Hylian style bed creaked under his shifting, and he muttered something about missing hammocks.

Saki suddenly stood, eyes lighting up to see Teba. “Oh good! You’re awake, let’s see how you’re doing.” She rushed to hold his wing, to which his heart immediately jumped into his throat.

“Saki, I—” Teba attempted to be articulate, but was distracted by the tenderness of her touch, and the sudden sweet smell of nutmeg and vanilla in the air.

“Stop moving your wing, Teba.” Saki examined all sides of his wing with a practiced eye. “I made the elixir in time to counter any frostbite, but you should still rest for at least another hour to make sure all the ice inside is truly melted.”

He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You…remember my name?” It had been a few weeks since he had last seen her in the village infirmary. Usually he only saw the older doctors tending to patients.

“Well of course.” Saki cocked her head and gave him a warm smile. “I remember all my stupid patients.”

“Am I included?”

“Yes, Harth.”

“Nice.”

Teba’s eyes widened when she unsheathed her blade again. So much was happening so fast that surely if he wasn’t coddled in bed right now, he’d be snapping bones from the whiplash.

Saki held the metal near his wing. “The ice on your coat has softened by now, so I’ll just scrape it off,” Her blade gleamed with her bright smile. “Stay still!”

The warrior’s eyes continued to flicker between his wing, the blade, Saki, and Harth. Looking out the window, he saw the crisp blue sky glowing above a now serene and pleasant white snowfield.

“I don’t understand. Where…how long have….” He trailed off, but looked back at Saki. “What are you doing here?”

Saki stopped for a moment. “I…” Her shoulders sagged a bit as she paused. “Well…I know the elders said not to engage with the Wizzrobe incident. But…” She fixed her eyes on his wing.

“I’m a part of this village, and I care about its people. Those who are hurt, were hurt, or could be. I don’t like standing by when I could be helping.”

She looked back up and met his gaze. A pleasant blue that greeted the sun. “You understand, right? ‘We risk our lives everyday, might as well use it for something worthwhile.’ That’s the excuse you told me when I first met you.” She brushed a feather under one of his eyes. “Although, you were half unconscious, so I don’t blame you if you forgot. So anyhow! I stayed here in case any travelers came by with wounds or injuries. Keeps my heart at ease rather than just cooping up at home.”

Saki went back to removing the thin bits of ice on his wing, humming to herself. Teba savored the moment for what felt like a century, heart fluttering every time she glanced up to check on him.

Harth finally quipped in, tone playful. “Guess you’ve pretty much got the same mindset as us “fools,” eh, Ms. Saki?” He kicked back in his chair and crossed a leg over his knee. “Birds of a feather….heh.”

Saki snapped her head around to glare at Harth. “Actually,” the tone could cut steel, “The difference here, is that I had the common sense to not go out looking for a fight. I had the basic logic to understand that fighting a monster on its own turf would be reckless and idiotic. I had the brains to gather further supplies than a mere five fire arrows. And I actually had the decency to inform someone of my whereabouts should anything unexpected happen, rather than having the arrogance to think things would always go according to my own plans.”

She sighed again. “I hate to make Amali worry, but I’d rather stay here to look after you two while she informs someone to come pick you both up.”

Harth shut his trap real quick after that, to which Teba would have probably laughed if he wasn’t also scared of the possibility of getting the same treatment from her.

After a few more minutes, Saki finally finished up and patted his wing. Teba mustered enough courage to speak.

“Thank you…for everything.” He tried to prop himself up in the bed. “I can probably fly back in this condition. Kaneli’s probably gonna kill me twice over if I don’t get back soon.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to piss daddy off,” Harth snickered.

“Fuck off, Harth.” Teba and Saki quipped simultaneously. Teba however, was a bit taken aback by how calmly and sweetly she had spoken. The thoughts were knocked out of his brain when Saki rapped his skull with her blade again. “Ow! Would you—”

Saki pointed the blade at his throat. She was so close he was sure she could hear his heartbeat fast…and it wasn’t just from fear.

“Firstly, no. Neither of you boys will be leaving anytime soon so long as I’m here. You will be staying in bed,” she glared at Harth, but kept the blade on Teba, “And you will be keeping your tail feathers glued in that chair.” Saki turned back to Teba with a sweet smile.

“You will be staying here for the next eight hours, not so much as scratching the tiniest itch on that wing. Then, when someone comes here to pick you both up like I discussed, you will keep seeing me for at least another two weeks so I can monitor your injury. And perhaps when that’s all done, I will think about baking you a pie in celebration of your heroic feat tonight.”

She pressed the Feathered Edge a bit closer to his throat. “However, if this turn of events does not come into fruition…let’s say, if for some completely silly reason either of you decided to leave this cabin and fly home, well. I will just have to make sure to give you a reason to stay bedridden for another month. Do I make myself clear, warriors?”

The boys nodded as quickly as they could.

“Wonderful! I’m so glad we’re on the same page!” Saki's smile and tone was so quiet and sweet as she sheathed her blade once more.

Teba could still feel his heart thumping against his chest. There was a pleasant silence as the lodge was filled with the crackling of fire, and the occasional chirp of a morning bird. He stared at the way Saki’s eyes dazzled like a delicate sky.

Saki clicked her tongue. “Oh you poor thing. You’re still freezing aren’t you? Your feathers are all ruffled up.”

On instinct, the feathers on his neck—and pretty much everywhere else over—puffed up. “UH. Oh! Yeah. Cold. Very cold…yes.” He looked away and started coughing. Saki got up to get something by the fireplace, while Harth did his best to hide his snickering. Teba silently mouthed “help me” to Harth, which only further hindered his attempts to hide a laugh.

The pink Rito flashed one last pleasant smile at the two of them as she made her back towards the door. “Alright, I’m just gonna grab the firewood outside so I’ll be back in a moment. You’ll be alright, right? Nothing’s still aching or anything?”

Even muscle in Teba’s body seemed to melt at the way she curiously cocked her head to the side with a smile. The best he could do was mumbled out his thoughts before he had the chance to think them through.

“With you looking at—after me, I think I’ll be fine.”

Saki chuckled and Teba felt a combined feeling of pride and embarrassment. As she closed the door, Harth looked back at him.

“Very smooth. Quite the wordsmith.”

“Shut it, fuckface.”

- - - - -

TWO WEEKS LATER.

“What do you want?”

The doctor grumbled rudely as Teba did his best to not seem like a complete idiot. “Uh…Saki?”

“You want Saki?”

His mind shifted to a daydream. “Yeah…” Whenever her name was mentioned he couldn’t help but smile, but that fell away when he snapped back to reality. “WAIT, I mean— no. I don’t want— I mean not no, I just didn’t mean it like— I just.” Teba grumbled some more. “Where she is. I want where she is, or… need. I don’t want. I’ve never wanted— I just need the location. Her location, currently. Which is not here. Where is she. Please…”

Teba put on his best smile despite the fact that he felt like his body was suddenly on fire. Perhaps that was a habit learned from the Wizzrobe incident.

The doctor shook her head. “Kids and their incoherent rambling— She's coming back from Slippery Falcon last I checked. Baking another Get-Well-Soon fish pie, I assume.”

“Ah, great! That’s fantastic. Yes. Yeah! Great. Thank you so much, Una—”

“Get out already, Teba. This place is for the sick and injured. Not the…” she glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, “awkward, and alive. Both of which are actually quite surprising to see from you…”

He managed to give a weak mix of a scoff and a nervous laugh before promptly leaving.

Descending the many steps of Rito village, Teba’s mind raced with thoughts.

Just gotta not fuck up one conversation. Just a simple question! Just...quick little hang out...thing. Yeah. Yep. I can do that. She’s seen me blabber worse when I’m unconscious, so what’s one sober conversation. I’ve killed things! Why am I even stumbling over a few words? Tsk. Yeah. I’ve seen monsters and beasts and blood and blades, I've got this. This is doable, I can do this.

He suddenly bumped into a pink colored Rito at one of the turns, and she laughed as she fumbled with the honeycomb and butter held in her arms.

“Oh my! Well, good morning, Teba.”

I can’t do this.

“And where are you off to this lovely morning?” Saki tilted her head curiously, to which Teba’s eyes immediately dilated.

“…uh…I…” Was it just him or were her feathers slightly fluffier than usual? “I just wanted to…say hi.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Well.” She gave him a cheerful wave with a free wing, clutching her ingredients close to her chest. “Hi!”

“Y-Yeah. Hi…” Teba just stood there as Saki continued walking up the stairs behind him.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck do something, idiot I don’t have—

“Actually Teba…” Saki suddenly turned back around to face him. He quickly leaned a wing against the railing to seem casual. “If you’re not doing anything right now…do you mind helping me with something?”

Teba felt like he responded just a bit too quick. “Yes! Definitely. I can do that.” He coughed, and held out a wing. “You want me to hold something for you?”

She beamed. “Yes! Come on.” She shifted her baking ingredients in one wing, and used her free wing to hold his. Saki dragged him along as their feathers intertwined. Teba’s soul immediately left the mortal realm and his physical body was left stumbling and sputtering.

“WAIT! I—I DIDN’T MEAN! UH—I MEAN SURE— IF YOU’RE OK—BUT THIS ISN’T—”

“I have something heating up upstairs, so hurry along now.” She spoke quickly, not really having the extra confidence to look him in the eyes. But at this point they could both feel each other’s feathers poof as they held wings.

Carrying a mix of honey, Tabantha wheat, and butter, they both eventually made their way to the public kitchen where a fire was roaring.

Teba started grumbling apologies, but Saki cut him off by shoving a wood spoon and a bowl into his chest.

“Your rebellious nature won’t apply to cookbooks, yes?”

And with that, they got to it. Teba’s mind was still processing the events of fifteen minutes ago so while he stared blankly at Saki, he struggled to do the basic task of mixing.

“Here,” she held his wing and adjusted his grip on the spoon. If she wasn’t a pink Rito she might have blushed. “Try not to fling the batter out the window.”

They both started to gain just a bit more confidence as they continued working. Teba started to tease Saki a bit as he held the bowl with the salmon filling above her.

“What’s one little taste? It’s all gonna be eaten at the end, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare, it’s still raw!”

“Just one little dip.”

“If you stick one dirty little feather in that bowl I swear I’ll—”

Teba continued trying to dance around her, but she eventually got it back after a quick whack in the head with a spoon.

The morning flew above them, and the shades of a blue day were laced with clouds of white. The shadows of the hut spun across the floor like a spell. Eventually, the aroma of savoury fish with hints of butter filled the air. Teba grabbed a fork.

“This Get-Well pie was for me, yeah? So let me just—” Saki slapped his wing.

“Not yet, gosh.” She stole his utensil. “You forgot the most important part!”

Saki pressed the edge of the fork on the plain face of the fish pie, giving the little fishy a simple, honest grin.

“There!”

“That’s a bit creepy.”

“What?! No…it’s cute! A joyful little fish!”

“You know that this is just gonna be decapitated by me, yeah?”

“It’s about the sentiment, Teba. Hush.”

True to his word, Teba used a knife to take the first bite, decapitating the little creature. Stuffing his beak, his eyes immediately lit up. The flaky crust paired perfectly with the soft meat, the taste and texture beyond amazing.

Saki tilted her head, curious. “Well? How is it?”

“Mmmbfhbgm. Myeah. Yum.”

She clapped. “Oh I’m glad! I actually ignored the ratio a bit and put a bit more butter, so it’s good that that worked out.”

“What happened to following the instructions and rules?”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her wings over her chest, playfully. “I don’t know… What happened to that priceless journal from Master Revali that was found to be missing from records a few days ago?”

“Damn. Fair enough, then.”

Saki suddenly gasped. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry I completely forgot about the time. You usually sneak off to practice Master Revali’s techniques by now, don’t you?” She went to grab a napkin. “Here, you can wrap this up and take it to the Flight Range, I didn’t mean to keep you for so—”

Teba went to grab one of her wings. “Hey hey! It’s ok. I’m still supposed to keep off the wing anyway, right?”

Saki scoffed, but didn’t pull away. “Oh, like you’ve been following that…”

“Better late than never?”

“Mhmm…”

Teba finally let go, and they stood in front of each other for a bit. Saki played with the curls of her hair, avoiding his gaze. Teba felt his feathers fluff up again, as he mumbled something.

“Hmm?” She looked up.

“Oh. I…didn’t say anything.”

“Ah, Right.” She looked away.

Fuck.

The warrior struggled to find the right words. In an effort to do anything but stay silent, he went to hold her wing again. Both of their feathers immediately floofed in response.

“S-Sorry. I should have—”

“No, it’s alright.” She kept his grip. “It’s alright.”

They both looked in opposite directions, Teba coughed again while Saki fiddled with her hair. The warrior continued screaming in his own mind, begging for some form of suitable and understandable words to come out of his beak. When he turned to speak, Saki cut him off with a soft smile.

“You know, Teba. You don’t have to say anything.”

His beak opened and closed for a few moments, confused. Finally he settled on his thoughts. “Can I try?”

She nodded. “If you really want to.”

Saki wrapped her wings around his shoulders, looking up at him expectantly. When he looked into her eyes, all he could feel was the embrace of a summer’s wind. It was blue. Cerulean. Perhaps teal, or a comparison of sapphire. There was a romantic simile in the world somewhere that he didn’t bother to find.

This close, he could see her eyes dilate, and count small imperfections on her beak. Teba stood as still as ice, before breathing out a bit in relief. He allowed himself to smile, and held her hips and swayed to some unknown rippling melody. Perhaps for just this moment, he accepted it. His words didn’t matter as his gaze lit up sweet and gold and honey. Finally, as they swayed and danced in warmth, the sun to the sky said,

“You look nice.”

#reblogs appreciated!#Teba: I'm gonna go get justice for my village so that no one else gets hurt!#Also Teba: *nearly dies on multiple occasions*#Teba is just the 'this is fine' meme and i love him for it #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw fanfiction #teba x saki #tebasaki #yes the fried chicken couple #teba #saki #saki botw #harth #harth botw #teba botw #botw gift exchange

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seagullcharmer · 4 years ago

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sorry (ID under the cut)

[ID: a series of low quality doodles of Zelda, Ghirahim, Link, and Fi from Skyward Sword. it starts with the four of them walking together, when Zelda says "brr, it's cold". Ghirahim looks surprised, while Link also looks cold.

Next, Ghirahim is shown draping his cape over Zelda, saying "here you go". Zelda smiles and says "aw thanks Ghirahim"

There is then an even smaller version of Zelda and Ghirahim, smiling and looking content. Link and Fi are watching them, Link vaguely longingly and Fi staring blankly.

Link then turns to Fi and says "Fi, I'm cold." His poorly drawn hands are supposed to be signing the word 'cold' in ASL.

It pans out to a tinier version of the two, Link looking very sad and cold, shivering. Fi stares at him judgmentally and says "Damn, Master Link, I don't control the weather". /End ID]

#my art #does this even qualify as art #i feel like max did this before but i couldn't find it #(if you DID do this max. well. sorry i did it again but worse)#i will likely delete this later. writing that id made it feel um. that much worse #this is so stupid.

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intergalactic-zoo · 4 years ago

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I'll give one thing to DC Comics Skeletor: he's a quicker study than the animated version.

Turns out that searching for the Power Sword and trying to take Grayskull hasn't been working, so Skeletor decides to kidnap the Sorceress Goddess and make He-Man find the Power Sword instead.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Masters of the Universe #1 came out in August, 1982, the month after the Preview insert. Paul Kupperberg returns as writer, with George Tuska on pencilling duties. Mini-storybooks artist Alfredo Alcala is back to ink the first two issues, with Rodin Rodriguez taking over in #3. Adam Kubert and Ben Oda are our letterers, and Adrienne Roy and Anthony Tollin are the colorists. Getting Alcala back, even just for inks, really does make a difference; he brings a Prince Valiant quality to Tuska’s pencils in the first issues, which is lost a bit in Rodriguez’s cleaner style. Tuska definitely feels more suited to this setting than Curt Swan did; much as I love Swan, this era of Masters of the Universe really lives in a more brutal, Conan-inspired place than what would come later, and that’s just not what Swan’s classic superheroic style is best at.

Our story begins at another party, where Prince Adam is continuing with that playboy lifestyle, though we get explicit confirmation that this is at least in part an act.

I think this is a really interesting hook for the character, even if it clearly wasn’t very sustainable for a children’s property, particularly one as beset by watchdog groups as Masters of the Universe. The alter ego with a different personality from the hero is nothing new in superhero comics, and we’ve even seen characters like Batman playing the carefree Casanova, but Adam feels a little distinct here, characterized closer to Johnny Storm than Bruce Wayne. Usually the immature, impulsive character who’s always thinking about the opposite sex is played straight, as character flaws that the hero genuinely needs to overcome; it's less common to make those the hallmarks of his secret identity.

Adam gets attacked by demons in his bedroom, and finds Cringer when he hides under the bed, which is a solid gag. We never do find out what the demons were doing there. They rush off to the Goddess's magic cavern, where they are transformed—but find Skeletor instead of the Goddess (who is occasionally also called the Sorceress in the story). Skeletor has imprisoned her, and will only release her if He-Man retrieves the Power Sword for him, which the Goddess has hidden away. In order to find the sword He-Man will need to find three talismans (talismen?) representing the sea, the sky, and the cosmos.

It's a fetch quest to start the fetch quest. Not the most auspicious start to a series. Or end to one.

He-Man returns to the palace, where we get confirmation of something that fans have always speculated about: do He-Man and Prince Adam really look that similar? In the DC Universe, the answer appears to be yes:

It also plays into a longtime fan theory that Queen Marlena knows Adam's secret. Now that he's back to the palace, He-Man seeks help from the palace wizard, Tarrak, who is being attacked by demons himself!

He-Man, Teela—wearing for this issue only a sword-and-sorcery standard metal bikini—Battle Cat, and Man-at-Arms manage to defeat the demons, but not before they take the cosmos talisman. Meanwhile, the Bird-People of Avion are attacked by a squad of Beastmen, who are after the sky talisman, which Stratos wears. Stratos seeks help from He-Man, and with Tarrak's assistance, the heroes set off to find the other two talismans.

This specific outfit and pose feels so familiar.

He-Man and Battle Cat head into the jungle, where they meet a clan of barbarians that He-Man has encountered before, in what feels like a nod to his classic origins. He-Man once helped them battle a sexy evil wizard named Damon.

The barbarians know where the cosmos talisman is, but before they can retrieve it, the group is attacked by demons again. He-Man takes the talisman, and is transported away.

Out in the Sea of Blackness, Man-at-Arms, Teela, and Stratos are looking for the sea talisman, which is being held by the Mer-People. Fortunately, Tarrak gave them potions so they could breathe underwater. Mer-Man leads a fight against them, because this version also has ambitions of his own, until Skeletor pulls a Darth Vader from a distance. Teela is less than grateful, so Skeletor leaves them to the mercies of the Mer-People.

Just going to admire how great Skeletor looks in that first panel for awhile.

But Stratos claims the sea talisman just in time, and the whole crew is transported into a Steve Ditko drawing.

They get attacked by demons again, but are saved by Zodac, who refuses to give them any information about the person sending the demons, but a page later we learn that it's the wizard Damon, who wants the Power Swords so he can control Eternia, not that dimensional-carpetbagging wizard-come-lately Skeletor. He's gotten considerably less sexy and more...problematic since that brief appearance in the previous issue.

Seriously, he looks like the antisemitic caricature from that Carman video. He also happens to be right next to where the Goddess stored the two halves of the Power Sword, but they're in an impenetrable force field, which is not mentioned again.

Zodac uses the talismans to open a portal to the Sword's location (sort of?) and then gives them to Zoar the poorly-drawn falcon before sending the heroes on their way.

Feels like the reference got away from you a bit.

Meanwhile, Damon decides to tip his hand by attacking Skeletor, who lashes out with magic that is strong enough to teleport them both into Castle Grayskull, just as Damon had planned. But in a pretty great moment of both villains trying to two-steps-ahead each other, that was all part of Skeletor's plan, and he apparently kills Damon.

These comics go pretty hard for stuff that was based on toys for babies.

Also, this happened earlier in the issue.

The heroes also end up in Castle Grayskull, which is apparently where the Power Sword is, even though we already saw Damon with the Power Sword before he was able to access Castle Grayskull.

You and me both, He-Man. The heroes split up to search the castle. Stratos gets caught in a giant spiderweb, Man-at-Arms gets blown up by a tripwire, and Teela ends up in a hedge maze until she stumbles on Skeletor, who pulls the Power Sword out of a magic warp.

He-Man shows up shortly after, but Skeletor sends Beast-Man (singular) and a monsterized Man-E-Faces (who was briefly introduced earlier in this third issue) against the hero. Eventually He-Man, Teela, and Zoar get the sword away from Skeletor, and then the Goddess appears to say "actually I wasn't in any danger, but your friends are all caught in booby traps." The End.

What an absolutely bizarre miniseries. It feels like it was initially intended to be four issues and cut down to three, but that change had to be made before the first issue—with its "Mini-Series 1 of 3" banner—went to the printers. The promotional push makes it seem like DC was intending to do a lot more than three comics and a handful of mini-comics. Editor Dave Manak speculated that there might have been an issue with contract negotiations, but I'd be really interested if there's a clearer answer. Every aspect of the DC Masters of the Universe license feels abnormally cut off, right down to the end of this story.

Whatever the reasons were, this would be the last full-sized Masters of the Universe comic from DC for almost 30 years. Next time we'll pick up with the Marvel/Star Comics.

#IFTTT #Blogger #TheFortressOfSoliloquy

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danwhobrowses · 5 years ago

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A Personal Rant before Sword and Shield comes out

I’ve sat idly by for months, tried to weather a few negative responses but given that it’s now 6 days from release and I’m hearing that devs are getting literal death threats I’m going to put my foot down

If you’re already shitting on a game that hasn’t been released yet, you are all juvenile bitches, and I’m about to tell you why.

Before we begin, I’m not saying that you’re not allowed to dislike a game, that happens, but usually it happens after you play a game, not before.

You are viewing this game through a keyhole and judging the room and what you’re seeing is not worthy of this much hate. Let’s start with the big one Dexit: Not as Big as You Think Having No National Dex is of course not ideal, but it doesn’t ruin the game. Let’s Go has no National Dex, all it had was Alola forms and nobody whinged about it. Ruby and Sapphire didn’t have a National Dex until FRLG, and nobody whinged about it. Sun and Moon and Ultra Sun and Moon do not have a National Dex And Nobody Whinged About It Do you know why? Because it’s not actually a big deal. People who complain about it are bandwagoning because ‘Dexit’ is a meme, its name literally parodies an event in current Britain that many people don’t actually want to happen. Now currently, the anger of Dexit is that Bulbasaur and Squirtle are not in it, which frankly is hilarious because the last wave of bitching was ‘Kanto mons are getting all the new stuff’. You wanna know how many main series versions Bulbasaur and Squirtle have not been in? Seven, only way to get them is trade and event. The other complaint is that there’s ‘only 400′ Pokémon. Remember those days where people were fine with 150? 400 is huge, in fact it’s 3 less than USUM and it’s not accounting for the Gigantamax forms Don’t let headlines fool you either, Sun and Moon had 302 Pokémon, it’s far from the ‘lowest dex number since 2003′. Do your own research with these things. Kalos’ regional dex was 151, BW2 was 300, BW 153, Sinnoh 210, RSE has 386 and GSC had 252 Don’t get me wrong, it smarts that some Pokémon isn’t there, but it’s not a dealbreaker, like let’s be honest here. For a good year and a half all your pokémon are gonna do is sit in an unused cartridge or a PC box, you’re literally whining about the fact that you can’t move your perfect IV Pokémon from one box to another. You could simply just let them stay in Let’s Go or USUM, you don’t have to use Bank or Home on continued subscription for that, so your complaints are only set on the foundation that you feel like you have to continually pay to not transfer your Pokémon, Finally, people act like these Pokémon are deleted forever, they’re not, this is for spacing to make sure this game doesn’t break down from the sheer mass of models and textures it has to maintain in a massive open world space, the local and online camping and battles. Just use the Pokémon that are there! There’s new Pokémon don’t you wanna try those? You can also look at FRLG or Emerald and consider that maybe more Pokémon will get patched in once the game proves to be stable. I don’t think you’ve noticed, but the Nintendo Switch isn’t as powerful as the other consoles out there, sometimes it runs like shit. Believe me on that one, Switch is still in a very buggy development phase. Let’s Go was kept small to test it’s capability and Sword and Shield can’t just fly in and give you all 1000 Pokémon just so one of the ones you want can be in there

You have to be much less obtuse with this, I mean this was a long time coming. You’re gonna have to live with the fact that not every Pokémon ever can be supported on one game alone. Disk, Download, Cartridge and Patch Sizes have limits in Compliance, you can’t just throw everything at it. Waah, the New Pokémon Don’t Look Good They do, you’re being petty. It happens every version, the people dislike the starter evolutions or just one in particular. Remember all the Oshawott hate? This all comes and goes because people have simply gone on the first instinct that ‘new and different is scary and should be shunned’ You’re that Simpsons meme when young Homer accuses Grandpa of not being ‘with it’ I won’t spoil to those who haven’t seen it, but I like the new starters, and some of the new Pokémon will need some growing but not every Pokémon looks good at first glance. If Mr Mime, Hypno or Gastly came out nowadays they’d be crapped on so much for lacking creativity or for looking weird. Look at Drampa as well, thing looks like Falkar from The Neverending Story, when I first saw it I thought it look weird but now I like it. You should offer these things time And actually fall back on past experience, you’re reacting like this isn’t the same thing that happens every version; the dex gets leaked, people whine about the evolutions, people get over it and accept that they overreacted. hIgH QuAlItY aNiMaTiOnS I’ve seen that video, 2 clips and you judge a whole game how classy of you? If you don’t see improvement you’re blind. You can’t shit on a game for keeping the battle animations, you can’t expect every Pokémon to move their own unique way to the exact position of the body part the opponent needs to get hit by, that’s just unrealistic. You’re also failing to equate to the new moves and all the new movesets. You have to ensure that each Pokémon is capable of calling this animation as well. The second clip in that video was Hop and Hau having the same rigging, and once again, that’s not abnormal. Rigging is not easy either, do it wrong and it sticks and deforms texture. There’s nothing wrong with Hop having one animation that matches Hau’s, you’ll probably find that many models actually have similar rigging as previous games. Because it’s not that big of a deal and it saves money, as an example look at Disney they copied hand-drawn motion and stuck a different character on them, Robin Hood’s Little John dances just like (animated, for those too young to know otherwise) Jungle Book’s Baloo The thing you’re also ignoring from that clip is the graphical improvement of Hop compared to Hau, Hau looks like a balloon with a smiley face but Hop’s face has depth and his mouth actually moves like a normal person, his clothes have far more contrast and complexity, but no just zero in on one fighting animation and one rigging that’ll surely be worth abusing a game that’s not even out... B-But Charizard I’ve already explained this before but Charizard is Leon’s main, it’s obviously going to have a Gigantamax, ergo it’s also going to be in the Dex. Does Charizard get a lot? Yes, but the reason is because Charizard is popular. One of the rarest cards is a Charizard Hologram Card, Charizard is one of the first version mascots, it is one of the most recognized Pokémon Ash has in the anime Reality of the matter is that like Pikachu, Charizard is a recognized Pokémon for all ages, it appeals to a demographic that’s not playing In Layman’s Terms: that part is not for you A reality you really need to face. Pokémon is a game for all ages, so elements of the game are not always going to be tailored to your age range. The gimmick of Dynamax and Gigantamax is for merch sales and young children because it’s got an audience there, you can’t expect the Biggest Entertainment Brand in the World to simply shut out a large fraction of its demographic just to appeal 100% to you And again, it’s not a big deal, so there’s a Charizard there, just save a Stone Edge and be done with it, if you hate Charizard so much this’ll be catharsis, but in actuality you’re complaining because it’s something to complain about Kanto are getting Everything That went down like a lead balloon didn’t it? Reminder that the first Gigantamax forms were Galar Pokémon, so you can’t really say that anymore. There are Galar forms from non-Gen I Pokémon too I assure you, but the reason Kanto gets a lot of them is because Kanto is the oldest. Let’s not pretend that other gens don’t get love either Or should I remind you of Mega Ampharos, Scizor, Heracross, Houndoom, Tyranitar, Blaziken, Gardevoir, Gallade, Mawile, Aggron, Medicham, Manectric, Banette, Absol, Garchomp, Lucario, Abomasnow, Steelix, Sceptile, Marshtomp, Sableye, Sharpedo, Camerupt, Altaria, Glalie, Salamence, Metagross, Latias, Latios, Rayquaza, Lopunny, Audino and Diancie? It’s true that the Johto starters could use something, but I don’t think they’re being purposefully ignored, perhaps the right design hasn’t come along. Rather it be done right than poorly wouldn’t you agree? The Devs Should’ve Done <Insert Thing Here> People who say this kinda stuff have no idea how a game is made. I have a First Class Bachelor’s degree in Computer Gaming and Animation Technology and I can tell you that none of the stuff you want them to do is easy. Even getting grass right is a complete hassle. You want small insights you should watch Corridor Crew react to Good and Bad VFX, they tell you about the mechanics of CGI a few times on those vids. This is what annoys me with the prior swipe at the Battle animations and rigging, even with 2 years this is a heavily massive workload and Game Freak have only recently expanded the team that work on Pokémon which makes communication much more widespread and difficult to manage, likewise they are working on other games too they are not just Pokémon, currently their next IP is why Toby Fox was able to do a bit of music for Pokémon, because he’s collaborating with them on another game. The work doesn’t stop, most of these people are overworked and still doing overtime, they bring out a good product and all it gets is ‘but it should have this’, and unless it’s a huge part of the game that’s needed to function then that’s really disrespectful Before you start critiquing on what the people making this game ‘should’ve done’ perhaps you should try to make a game yourself, because it is not easy even for pros, I call back to Toby Fox because creating Undertale took 32 Months to create, that’s 2 years and 8 months for those slow with math, it also took 3 years before it could be ported to Switch because the Engine couldn’t support the platform, Pokémon has less time to do that, greater graphical and animation quality to achieve and more characters to battle, attacks to animate and more songs to compose. Conclusion: You’re All Just Bitter I’ve already seen it happen recently but this group of people senselessly bashing something because of ridiculous demands, expectations or arguments based on a lack of understanding all combine into something I’m simply calling the ‘Bitterness Fandom’. It’s people hating for the sake of hating and trying to bring something down just because it’s been a popular force for so long, and it’s not just Pokémon that’s getting it It’s already been happening to Star Wars. The Last Jedi and Solo were great films but the Bitterness sank its fangs in and act like neither are as good as the original trilogy (like killing Snoke without knowing anything about him and Phasma before she could do anything is any different to killing Sidious and Boba Fett in Jedi or Maul in Phantom Menace and Grievous in Revenge of the Sith), a lack of awareness to reality and the desire to complain for the sake of complaining continues to infect Star Wars. We even have a thing called ‘Star Wars Fatigue’ Star Wars can’t release a film every year because of ‘Fatigue’ but Marvel can release 5 MCU films a year and nobody bats an eye. Those frustrations aside, I refuse to let the Bitterness sink in without me calling them out, because you are not Pokémon Fans. If you were you’d know that having no National Dex isn’t new, you’d know that the graphics have improved and leaks of the game happen every time, you’d know why Charizard is popular and that some features are not intended to be targeted at you Shock and Horror to the heavens above but games can’t do everything And if you’re that naive to think so then you’re clearly not doing your homework So let’s throw out an absolutely WILD suggestion shall we? Let’s decide our opinion on a game After playing it? Because shitting on something you don’t even have hands-on experience with it is a fragile pedestal to put yourself on. If we all think it’s bad then, so be it, but I sincerely doubt that is the case When my copy of Pokémon Sword gets delivered to my house I am going to enjoy it because I will not let petty and incorrect statements sway my feelings and I swear to Arceus if you think the Bitterness will bring down Pokémon that easily then you did not see the queue to the London Poké Center that had been amassing since midnight and was forced to stop taking more people when the doors opened What should matter is how you enjoy the game, play it before you judge it And honestly, don’t send death threats, why we need to tell you that is beyond me, the ones who made these games are people who have worked their asses off day in and day out to provide something you aren’t even going to play because one Pokémon isn’t in it, the irony is not lost on me when I say this but deep into the very bottom of my heart: Grow Up. If you don’t like the game, don’t play it, don’t bother people about it, we don’t need your shit here Enjoy the Game People

#pokemon #pokémon #pokemon sword and shield #Pokémon Sword and Shield #pokemon swsh #rant

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