#and it’s really only siblings from the same clutch who are guaranteed to be similar

[emuwarum]

AVENDAY!!! I love .her

she may have blown something up but that’s not too important!

[robbyrobinson]

GODS AWAKEN (PT. 25)

The flutes and other instruments began to blare at full sound. The people of the Boiling Isles spoke to themselves and each other unable to leave the podiums because of Nyarlathotep having his horde of monsters hold them hostage. They glared down at the bank of the large stadium.

After a few seconds, the Emperor arrived on the scene. He clutched his staff in his right hand, attempting to stabilize his walking stance. He turned to speak to the children of the Isles, but a low, suffocating cough rang out from his vocal cords.

“Belos appears to be sick, does he not?” one of the witches noted.

With the life forces of the palismans no longer being enough to stabilize him, Belos was on his last leg. He thought back to when he appointed Lilith to retrieve a special flower for him with which he hoped to stave off his impending doom a little longer. But alas, that flower was a ruse. He searched far and wide for any source of magic to heal him, but his luck was gradually running out. He bowed his head likely mourning the fact that he had no children that could ascend to the throne. The thought always filled his mind ever since he arrived to end the Savage Ages fifty years ago, but he foolishly gave little thought of the future of his empire. He flickered his hand. “If I am going to die, I should at least make it a spectacle.”

He slammed his staff on the ground. “Children of the Isles; the hour has arrived!”

He turned away to lift his mask and slipped two fingers in. With a blow, Warden Wrath and some of his men from the Conformatorium arrived. They had Camila tightly in their grips. She flailed her arms and kicked her legs, but the large, burly men were pinning her in place. Belos trudged over and cupped Camila’s chin and cheeks between his gloved fingers. He then resumed his glare to the audience.

“I present you with the accused!”

Some of the witches and demons recoiled at the appearance of the middle-aged mother before them. “What creature is this?”

They started to toss down vegetables and other objects at Camila in disgust. The food was smearing on Camila’s disheveled uniform that was already wrecked beyond repair. On instinct, she wanted to shield her face from the projectiles, but that was not going to be a luxury for her.

“Yes, yes,” Belos remarked, “she comes from a race of warmongering beings who selfishly kill all in their way to get what they want.” He tilted his head to Warden Wrath to continue.

The warden of the Conformatorium excused himself and ran out the stadium. There was a slight chattering and heaving and remained that way until four of Belos’ goons were pushing a wooden frame. At the top of the wooden device was a sharp blade of rock with some hints of dried blood at the tip of it. At the bottom near the base was a slab of rock through which straps were in place to hold the one sentenced to death. The slab of rock was surrounded by a larger circle now looking more like a gargantuan bullseye.

Warden Wrath returned to Camila’s side and grabbed her by the left arm. She screamed in protest, but her pleas for mercy were being drowned out by the scornful yells of the audience. Approaching the stone slab, it was fixed to have the victim’s limbs lay on. Four small flaps were for the hands and feet, while one was specifically designed for the head.

Camila kicked and thrashed with all her might. A third goon had to intervene to wrestle with Camila’s abdomen. He knelt over the woman, gripping her arms. The strength in his arms was greater in comparison to the mere human woman’s. With little struggling from his end, he took hold of her hands and slammed them in place. Warden Wrath then tightened the straps on her wrists.

The goon then did the same thing to her legs, this time being more careful when dealing with her lower body since she could catch him off guard and hit him. As he approached her neck, Camila spit at his face. A surprised, resounding gasp came from the crowd.

Wiping his helmet, the goon tied the strap around her neck, uncaring at how tightly bound she was. Air was now slowly seeping into Camila’s lungs, enough to keep her conscious, but even then, that was no guarantee. She stared up at the blade that would soon end her life with a swift gash.

A one-eyed, slug monster wearing a gown similar to Emperor Belos arrived. Most of the goons followed after him unaware of the trail of yellow slime he was leaving behind. They fell on themselves eliciting a few snide remarks from the witches. He placed a monocle over his enormous eye. He coughed into his right hand and withdrew a scroll from his other.

“On this day, we have the human woman Camila No-cee-da who had been accused of the most grievous crimes against the Emperor and the Boiling Isles.”

Warden Wrath walked over to a crank outside of the wooden death box and waited for the signal. The slug monster continued to drone on.

“The accused had been declared to be put to death without haste. As she is not one of us, the standard petrification for such crimes will not be enforced.” He pointed at the device restraining the woman. “Instead, the Emperor had envisioned something far worse for her.”

Belos sat down in his throne clutching a couple palismans from the staffs of long departed witches. However, in one of his hands was none other than Owlbert. He pinned the small owl’s back using his thumb and index finger. The bird tried flapping his wings to fly away, but it was futile. At that point, having to absorb the life force of palismans was no longer of use to the Emperor aside from maybe the taste of the magical entities. As such, Belos was going to engorge himself on the palisman in much the same way that a human enjoyed popcorn while watching a movie. He was going to immensely enjoy the spectacle.

Back in Belos’ laboratory, Luz had completely covered the portal machine with the fire glyphs and was waiting by to activate them. The Shoggoth and Amity’s abomination were still violently ripping apart Emperor Belos’ goons as they flooded in to try to overtake the two blob monsters. She saw Hooty was still happily chatting with the lifeless bodies of the goons and drinking tea with them. It disturbed her that Hooty was that scatterbrained to seemingly have little comprehension of his actions, but it was enough for her to accept that Hooty was on their side.

Amity and her older siblings ran into the laboratory. “Luz!”

Luz turned to them and smiled. “Amity! Guys, you’re, okay?”

The twins nodded. “Edric’s going to have to rest for a while,” Emira explained, “thankfully he can still do magic, but we don’t want to overexert him enough already.”

Luz noted this. “You guys might not want to be in here when the portal lights up harder than that one time my Mom let me attend a rock concert>

The Blight siblings looked at each other in abject confusion and mumbled to themselves. Luz smacked her head. “Oh, right...human terms, you wouldn’t get that.”

“In other words, we’ll try to stand back just in case things go horribly wrong,” Emira said.

Luz smiled. “That’s fair.”

Amity twiddled her fingers in deep thought. Luz continued to stare at the portal machine with her back turned. Amity’s heart was beating and she felt she could dig a hole and crawl into it to die, but she just wanted to make some certainty out of the uncertainty of the situation.

“Hey, Luz?”

“Yes, Amity?”

Amity’s cheeks were a tomato red. She turned her glance away from her friend out of an irrational fear at making eye contact. “If...if we survive this...”

Luz looked at the stammering witch girl. “What is it?”

She was stumbling on her words. From a glance, she could see Emira and Edric giving her a thumbs up. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, but it did give her some encouragement.

“If we survive this...will you go out on a date with me?”

There was a stillness in the room, aside from the ceaseless clambering coming from Hooty’s beak. Amity braced herself for the rejection.

“Yeah, sure.”

Amity’s eyes widened. “Re... really?”

Luz smiled. “Yeah, sounds fun.”

Amity looked down at the polish on her fingernails. “I... I’d very much like that.”

“Edric and I are going to keep watch of the door, Mittens,” Emira announced.

Amity’s cheeks blushed again this time out of irritation. “We’ll be outside, Luz,” Amity said.

Luz nodded her hand in a flickering motion. With that, the Blight siblings evacuated the laboratory. Eda and Lilith crossed their arms with a smug grin on their faces.

“So, when are you going to go out with her, Luz?” Eda asked.

Luz grinned. “Maybe next week.”

Luz was too preoccupied with the machine; she did not realize what Amity asked her at first. But it did hit her like a ton of bricks dropping from a two-story window.

“Wait...A DATE!?”

“The verdict has been read out,” the slug monster remarked solemnly. He steadied his glance on the woman strapped before him. “Any last words before the fullest act of the law are enforced?”

Camila only smiled in reply.

The slug turned to Warden Wrath and nodded. Belos’ eyes immediately darted at the crank and then at the blade of solid rock. The Emperor had already ripped his gloved fingers through one of the palismans whilst keeping the struggling Owlbert underneath his other fist.

The warden turned the crank in a counter clockwise fashion making everyone hear the execution device start up. The rock was lifted as high as it could realistically go and towered over the bullseye. The slug man spoke again.

“You will be stabbed through the chest until you’re dead; may the Titan have mercy on your soul.”

The blade could more or less be compared to an archer readying their arrow by bending it backward on the string of its bow to calculate the accuracy. The blade swung down at an inhumanly fast pace like a speeding bullet. Belos bent backward and clutching Owlbert in his hand in anticipation.

Camila looked up at the blade and smirked.

WHAM

The collision sent dirt and rocks into the air obscuring Camila’s impaled body from the audience’s vision. Emperor Belos got out of his seat in curiosity. “Is it done?”

The dust cleared away revealing the condition of the slab. The blade tore its way through the thick stone, but Camila’s broken body was nowhere to be seen. Clearly, the blade struck the middle-aged woman directly where her chest would be, but she was gone.

“How can this be possible,” Belos thought to himself. He scratched his chin. “She could not have escaped that easily unless...”

The slug monster dropped the scroll and, despite being a slow-moving monster, swung around with great speed and somehow produced a small blade from his hands and sliced Warden Wrath’s head off. In the place of blood was a gassy vapor. The slug then ripped into his own body and removed his skin. Underneath him was the Owl Spy.

Belos stood there, stunned. Of course, it wasn’t Camila; it never had been her. Instead, it became crystal clear to the tyrant: the Camila he dragged out of her cell was an illusion. He felt a chill go down his spine.

“Hello, father.”

Turning around, he could see that Camila was holding a lightning glyph on parchment paper. A streak of lightning erupted from the paper and struck Belos in the fast.

The witches gasped in amazement. Belos is blasted across the stadium slamming into a wall. Belos’s chest heaved in small huffs. Standing up, he clutched his face. Probing his orifices, he turned to see that his mask was ripped in half by the lightning spell. Camila covered her mouth to stifle a scream.

Belos possessed dark, black hair on his head and sideburns. Instead of an upper lip, long, slimy tentacles covered his lower lip. Rips in his suit exposed a thick hide of scaly orange skin on his upper body. On his back were a series of unintelligible markings of red and green. Towards the bottom half of his body, he was coated in a red suit of lobster-like armor. Elongated legs roughly the size of an ostrich’s. Around the bottom of his abdomen, there appeared to be a large, gaping mouth and a fleshy organ resembling a human lung.

“What in the world?” Camila finally spoke up.

Belos removed his gloves and showed off elongated, slurping tentacles in the place of fingers topped with bloodshot red suckers. In the palms of his hands, there were underdeveloped maws dripping a purple substance. In fact, purple, inky pus was seeping out of open cuts from his body. More tentacles protruded from his waist encasing his long, jangly legs and had eyes of all sizes staring in every direction. He chuckled.

“Well, this will be more fun than I anticipated.”

[mrslittletall]

Title: A Storm is coming (Chapter 24) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Dark Sun Gwyndolin Word Count: 7.071 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610/chapters/55664677 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/611856549249499136/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-23-fandom-dark

Summary: Ornstein and Tempest spend a quiet moment with each other. Tempest tells Ornstein about his life. They visit the Dark Root Basin to take care of the last black knight, Havel and the hydra.

(Author's note: This story doesn't leave me alone lately and so I had to write the next chapter. I am close to some very important points in it and I am excited to get them down on paper. I hope you enjoy and I am looking forward to see your thoughts in the comments.)

“I see.”, Gwyndolin said, hands folded in their lap, gaze turned down at the table. “So she didn't want to come back.”

“Yes.”, Ornstein said, “She told us that the Painted World needed her. And that the outside world didn't have any room for her.”

Gwyndolin let out a sigh: “I can't blame her, really. After all, it was mine father who started a world without dragons.”

“And I did my fair share to help him with it.”, Ornstein sighed again.

Tempest looked back and forth between the two of them clutching a cup of still warm tea, before saying: “But, uh, hey, we still have the doll!” He produced it out of his pockets and laid it on the table. “With that you could visit her anytime, right? I mean... if she changes her mind...”

“Not a bad idea, little Storm.”, Ornstein smiled. “Gwyndolin, how about you keep the doll? Maybe Priscilla just needs some time. If she wants to come out, you have the key to help her.”

“You are correct, both of you, Ornstein and the Chosen Undead.”, Gwyndolin smiled back, making Tempest frown when they used the title he had never asked for. “And I would like to be able for the child to meet their sister once they hatch.”

“Right, the egg. How is it?”, Ornstein asked.

“It has been in stasis for so long that it will take a while for it to hatch. I made sure to lay it into a warm nest so that they won't be uncomfortable.”, Gwyndolin had a very warm smile on their face as they said that, convincing Ornstein that they were the right person to take care of Priscilla's sibling.

“Have you already chosen a name?”, Tempest chimed in, drawing both the gazes of Ornstein and Gwyndolin at him.

“Ah, no.”, they said. “I... wanted to wait until I meet them before I give them a name and... I want to make sure that they are... comfortable with the name I will choose, so I plan to not give them a name until they understand how they feel about themselves.”

“Ah, hm..”, Tempest said, not really getting what Gwyndolin was implying but Ornstein caught on.

“..It is because of your upbringing, right?”

Gwyndolin nodded and their face fell a bit, a certain sadness shining through it: “I never had a choice, mine father raising me into what he wanted to be. I swore to myself should I ever raise a child, that I would not make the same mistake. They shall be able to grow up as their own self.”

“That is... very admirable.”, Ornstein said and smiled at Gwyndolin. “You will be a great parent to them, I am sure of it.”

“Thank you, Ornstein.”, Gwyndolin said and while the both of them still talked a bit Tempest's thoughts went to his own mother, wondering if she was still around. Just how many years had he spent in this cell?

After their tea was drunk Tempest and Ornstein said their goodbyes to Gwyndolin and walked to the cathedral, Tempest having promised to make a meal for Ornstein after they returned from the Painted World.

“I have to be honest, I didn't get what Gwyndolin was saying about names, but it made me wonder one thing.”, Tempest said. “How did you get your name, Ornstein?”

“Me?”, Ornstein said, a bit lost in thoughts.

“Yes, you or do you see another dragon slayer in golden armour called Ornstein around here?”, Tempest said, making Ornstein chuckle.

“Oh, there once were many dragon slayers, but I was the only one who was called Ornstein.”, he said. “The answer to your question may feel rather trivial. I was named after the musician who founded the orphanage I grew up in.”

“...You grew up in an orphanage?”, Ornstein could see some concern in Tempest's eyes as he looked up to him, trying to meet his gaze, like usual not really knowing where Ornstein's actual eyes were. “Were your... you know... with the dragon war and all...”

“What? No. My parents weren't killed by a dragon.”, Ornstein said. “Or at least I think this. I don't know what happened to them. I was a foundling.”

“What?!”, Tempest gasped. “Oh, Ornstein, I am so sorry to hear.”

“Little Storm, that was a thousand years ago. I am long over it. Besides, I don't think my parents are even alive anymore. And even if they were, why would I want to reconnect with someone who left their newborn child alone?”

“I guess... that makes sense...”, Tempest said and started to walk a bit faster, wanting to get ahead of Ornstein but because of Ornstein's long strides the dragon slayer caught up to Tempest in almost an instance.

“What about you, little Storm?”, Ornstein asked. “Where did you get your name from?”

“Oh, how nice that you show some interest in me for once.”, Tempest grinned but regretted the remark when he felt Ornstein's glare. Their talk in the Painted World about Tempest's desires and wishes was still fresh in his mind and he should acknowledge every effort of the dragon slayer to get better.

“I once asked my mom about this. Because, you know, I found that Tempest isn't an usual name. And when I asked her she said 'You were kicking up a storm while still in my belly and that's when I knew that I would have a very energetic child'. And so she picked a name for me that would be similar to Storm.”, Tempest fell silent after this story. He had to admit that he really started to miss his mom. And the little tavern they used to run. What would he give to get this life back, but... if he had never become Undead he never had met Ornstein. He wondered if his mom would believe him if he told her that he had beaten the famous dragon slayer from the legends? And even more when he told her that they had become friends?

“She chose the perfect name for you then, little Storm, because you sure like to storm off without warning and leave a mess to clean up. Like, you know, when a real storm is coming.”, Ornstein said jokingly.

“Only that the Storm in question is me.”, Tempest grinned at Ornstein.

“That's nothing to be proud about.”, Ornstein said but chuckled.

“You know, I am glad.”, Tempest suddenly said.

“Glad about what?”, Ornstein asked.

“I am glad that we became friends.”, Tempest smiled at him, that smile that made Ornstein's heart flutter every single time and he quickly looked away. He didn't want to see the hurt on Tempest's face once he realized that he had been lied to this whole time. If only there would be another way...

Maybe Ornstein should make sure that the last days of the little Storm at least were good ones, so he shook the thoughts aside and said: “Actually... I am glad about this too.”

Tempest gave him a side glance, but then broke out in a big smile and stormed off, yelling: “I am going to cook one delicious meal for you, just you wait!”

Once Ornstein caught up with the little Storm he was locked in a fight against the giant sentinels who guarded the entrance to the cathedral. He watched amusedly for a while before joining and saving Tempest from what would have a very painful encounter with a halberd.

“You forgot that they are aggressive when I am not at your side, what?”, Ornstein said and Tempest gave a sheepish nod before blurting out: “But hey, I almost killed one of them myself!”

“I noticed. You are getting better, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and the both of them walked into the cathedral. Tempest walked to the kitchen and Ornstein stayed behind to get out of his armour and freshen himself up. He was shuddered a bit. The Painted World had been cold, after food a bath should be in place. They could continue with their quest the next day. It wasn't like the flame would die out tomorrow.

As Ornstein entered the kitchen he was overwhelmed by a most delicious smell. Tempest turned around and nearly fell off the little stool he needed to use to reach the stove, catching himself just in time. “Oh, woah, hey, Ornstein.”, he said.

“What are you cooking?”, Ornstein asked.

“It's a dish we often would make in our tavern.”, Tempest said. “It is made by cooking a chicken with some vegetables in a sauce which base is made of vine. This goes with a lot of garnish, but I chose to make some noodles.”

“I hope it tastes as delicious as it smells.”, Ornstein said. While he still thought that Smough's cooking was unrivalled, Tempest's was a close second. The little Storm surely knew what he was doing in the kitchen and it was apparent that he had grown up in a tavern.

“I can guarantee that it is delicious.”, Tempest said, stirring the sauce. “I wish I could eat it myself, but everything I eat tastes like nothing. Only Estus tastes like something. And it tastes like I imagine flames would taste if you could swallow them.”

“In a sense I can be glad that I still can taste, but... sometimes I wish I wouldn't have need to eat. Would have save me some rather awkward situations.”, Ornstein said.

Tempest stopped stirring and hopped down from the stool: “Huh? But, Ornstein, eating is so much fun. That I can't taste anymore is what I regret about being undead the most.”

“And not the threat of hollowing or that you literally can't die?”, Ornstein asked.

Tempest put both hands in his hips: “That is different. That is stuff I have to deal with and besides, there have been tales of Undead who have been around for years and didn't hollow. It is all about the determination I heard. And I decided that I won't hollow as long as you are around.”

Ornstein's heart warmed at Tempest's speech but at the same time dropped in his stomach. The little Storm truly didn't deserved to be let on like this. But he was a knight and he had to listen to his lord and Ornstein wasn't allowed to say the truth.

“But like, eating... I don't get why being Undead takes away our taste. We may not need food anymore, but it would have been nice to still be able to taste it, you know.”, Tempest continued.

“At least that also means that you don't need any breaks to use the privy.”, Ornstein said.

“That... feels like the lesser problem.”, Tempest chuckled and got back on the stool to continue his cooking.

Once he was done and served the meal to Ornstein he sat opposite to him and watched with this excitement in his eyes as usual, wanting to know if Ornstein liked the meal he had cooked for him.

As soon as Ornstein tasted the dish his face lit up. It was truly a wonderful taste.

“That tastes marvellous, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and Tempest's whole face brightened up.

“I am glad that you like it.”, he smiled, the little smile that always made Ornstein's heart flutter and he quickly looked elsewhere, down on the dish, trying to search for something to talk about.

“So, uh... why are you always so keen about knowing if I liked the dish?”, Ornstein asked.

“Are you serious, Ornstein?”, Tempest huffed. “Every cook wants to know if their creation were to the liking of the patron. Well, you are not my patron, but I still cook for you, so of course I want to know what you like and what you don't like.”

“Makes sense. This was a stupid question anyway.”, Ornstein took another fork of the food, trying to taste which herbs Tempest used but had to give up, the sauce had amalgamated into its own brand new taste.

“...So, little Storm, you said you grew up in a tavern? What did you do there?”, Ornstein asked.

“Oh? You really are interested in stuff of my past? That hasn't to do with me being undead?”, Tempest seemed to vibrate on his seat.

“...Let's just say... you were right back in the Painted World. I have barely asked about stuff that you want or how your life once has been... I... want to try and make up for it.”, Ornstein reluctantly admitted.

“Well then.”, Tempest smiled again. “To be honest, my life wasn't very exciting. I am sure you lived through a thousand adventures before I was even born. Like you said, I grew up in a tavern. I was raised there by my mom.”

“What about your father?”, Ornstein asked.

“He died when I was still little, I can't remember him much. I think he fell down some stairs. My mom never married anew and raised me on her own. Our tavern was well visited so we never had a problem with money. When I was old enough to walk and carry dishes I already started to help out by serving the customers, when I wasn't at school of course.”

“So you visited a school?”

“Only for basic stuff like reading and writing and how to calculate.”, Tempest waved off. “It was clear for me that one day I would take over the tavern, so I was more interested in learning cooking. My mom taught me how to cook all our dishes and encouraged me to experiment. I think when I was around 13 or 14 we started to include some of my dishes also in the menu. Sometimes people were even asking for a dish especially cooked by me. You should have seen how proud my mom was of me.”

“It sounded like the two of you were close...”, Ornstein said, staring at a piece of meat on his fork, lost in thoughts.

“Yes, of course, we spend a lot of time with each other and also experienced each other in high stress situations like the rush hour in the tavern where every dish had to be cooked as soon as possible.”, Tempest continued. “...I said it wasn't that exciting, but for me, it was the most exciting life. Sure, I always would go and watch the knights, but I was certain that I never would be a part of them. I simply looked forward to them coming into the tavern and get a nice dish after a hard day on patrol.”

Ornstein had to smile at Tempest's face when he talked about his old life. He seemed to have really enjoyed it and his face lighting up like this was just beyond adorable. Ornstein settled on watching the little Storm for a bit, laying his fork down.

“Ah, don't tell me you are already full, Ornstein! You haven't eaten anything the whole day!”

“What?”, Ornstein blushed a little bit, he had gotten carried away. “Oh, I still plan to eat the rest. It is excellent. I just...”, was getting sidetracked looking at you.. Of course Ornstein didn't finish this sentence and instead said: “So, um, do you have any funny stories about the tavern?” in an desperate attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, there are loads!”, Tempest raised his arms and pictured a circle with them. “But one that always will be embedded into my mind, was the day where I was serving the dishes to the patron. It was a busy day and so I was running back and forth from the kitchen all day. And then, when I got the next dish and headed for the table to deliver it I managed to stumbled over a loose wooden board and fell! But! You probably think the dish was ruined. It wasn't. I was quick-witted enough to raise it above my head and though a little bit of it spilled of course, I managed to get up and deliver it to the table.”

Ornstein stared at Tempest with wide eyes: “That doesn't sound very funny. Wasn't that painful?”

“I am getting to this part.”, Tempest grinned. “So I pulled myself up and delivered the meal and said my usual 'Please enjoy your meal' and stuff, but the patrons at the table just stared at me and eventually one of them pointed out that I had a nosebleed, like, a really bad one and it had already stained all my clothes and it looked like someone had punched me into the face but in reality it had been because I had fell face first on the floor and I literally hadn't noticed that. I wasn't in pain, I didn't notice that blood was coming out of my mouth, I just wanted to get the dish to the patron safe.”

“That can only be called dedication.”, Ornstein murmured. “But I still can't believe that you found this funny.”

“Probably because I was the only one in that tavern who found it funny.”, Tempest grinned and drove a hand through his unruly hair. “I had to start laughing and was like, that I didn't even notice I got hurt when I fell and that it is a miracle that no blood got into the food and that is when I saw the blood on the floor and was like 'I need to wipe this up' and that was when my mom came running and made sure I was sitting still until the nosebleed stopped. That was when I realized how much it hurt, but I couldn't stop laughing about it because of how absurd the situation was. Later we found out that I actually broke my nose because of that fall.”

“You are unbelievable, little Storm.”, Ornstein smiled as the last fork of food found its way into his mouth. “So that is why your nose is a bit crooked.”

“Yeah, it never got away.”, Tempest smiled. “But my mom always said it looked charming.”

It does look charming., Ornstein thought to himself as he pulled the empty plate away from him. “Thank you for the meal, little Storm, that must have been one of your best.”

“I am glad that you enjoyed it.”, Tempest smiled and got up, getting the plate to wash it off.

“It's pretty late, little Storm.”, Ornstein said. “How about we take a bath, rest for the night and the next day we visit the Dark Root Basin for that last Black Knight that is still roaming around?”

“With pleasure.”, Tempest said as he scrubbed the plate clean. “Do you want me to wash your hair?”

“No.”, Ornstein said without hesitation and the both of them chuckled at how sudden it was.

After a good night's sleep the duo had warped to the Undead Parish and Tempest listened to the calming sound of Andre's hammer as he waited for Ornstein's nausea to pass. After a good minute had passed Ornstein gave Tempest a nod and the both descended the stairs. Tempest gave Andre a big smile and went to talk to him while Ornstein waited and caught a glimpse into the room that would lead outside of the abandoned church and into the forest. He frowned when he saw a big, bulky and very alive titanite demon in their way.

“Little Storm, what is that?”, Ornstein asked when said individual came back to Ornstein with a newly enforced sword weighing in his hand.

“It's one of the big demons, of course.”, Tempest said, squinting his eyes, as if asking himself if Ornstein couldn't see well anymore.

“I know what it is, I want to know why it is still alive.”, Ornstein whisper-hissed.

“Because I ran away screaming of course.”, Tempest replied and Ornstein could hear how the blacksmith behind them had to hold back a fit of laughter. He probably had seen the whole scene and Ornstein nearly joined the laughing fit as he imagined it in his head, but shook it off last second.

“Well, now it is in our way and how about we put it to rest? The blacksmith deity that is trapped within these demons surely will thank us for our service.”, Ornstein said.

“Oh, alright.”, Tempest face fell a bit flat. “But don't get mad at me when I have to refill my Estus after this fight.”

“I won't.”, Ornstein promised.

Half an hour later the both of them stood at the bonfire and Ornstein tapped his foot while Tempest refilled his Estus and searched for some humanity.

“You promised me you wouldn't get mad.”, Tempest contritely said.

“I promised I wouldn't get mad for you having to refill your Estus. I never said I wouldn't get mad at you for dying. Twice.”

“Hey, that damn polearm of the demon really hurt! And how should I know that it would swung it back? Also, aren't you supposed to protect me?!”

“I am there to make sure that you fulfil your mission.”, Ornstein's foot tapping intensified and then died down as the dragon slayer let out a sigh. “Doesn't matter... it's dead now. Just... you need to practice how to dodge long ranged weapons better.”

“I gladly practice it, but the polearm of the demon is ridiculous. Not even your spear is that long.”, Tempest said and then, after a few seconds got red in the face and started to giggle when he realized just how ambiguous that had sounded.

“...I don't even want to know what is going in your head right now.”, Ornstein shook his head in disbelief and descend the stairs, the blacksmith giving them a nod and... was that a thumbs up that Ornstein had spotted? What a way to start the day, with even the blacksmith getting all the wrong ideas about the kind of relationship he had with the little Storm.

“So you have seen the Black Knight in the basin? Which kind of weapon did they wield?”, Ornstein asked as they walked through the now demon less room and into the lush and overgrown nature which was the edge of the Dark Root Forest.

“It looked similar to yours, but not quite when I remember correctly.”, Tempest mused while he cut down some shrubbery that had come alive with his sword without even batting an eye. “It was all black, hm...” While Tempest continued trying to remember the weapon he flawlessly cut down every shrubbery blocking their way until they stood at the path that would lead into the basin.

“Ah, it was a halberd!”, Tempest blurted out while Ornstein walked up to him and let a few moss clumps fall down in front of him.

“Huh?!”, Tempest's big eyes looked Ornstein over who just gestured at the row of dead shrubbery and said: “Who would have known that you fight best while being deep lost in thought?”

“What, I have done that?!”, Tempest's eyes grew wide. “...I don't even remember. I also don't know how I have done this. ...And now I think I can't do it again!”

“And that's what I am here for.”, Ornstein sighed, readying his spear. “Let's head down the path. The Black Knight is down there, yes?”

Tempest nodded and slowly crept the path down hiding behind Ornstein.

It took only a short walk down the path until the Black Knight in question came into view, wielding a halberd like Tempest had observed. Ornstein turned around to face Tempest only to not see him and then realizing that the little Undead still hid behind his back.

“Out there and fight.”, Ornstein said in a stern voice.

“I am afraid that I mess up...”, Tempest said but came out of Ornstein's shadow and confronted the Black Knight and... promptly messed up the parry big time and got send flying. “Ouch.”, Tempest said as he tried to get up from the floor, Ornstein already closing the distance between him and the Black Knight and crossing his spear with the halberd.

Both knights fought for dominance over the other until they separated and started to circle around, waiting for the other to make the first move. This one certainly had eaten up Artorias' teaching techniques, they felt like a formidable foe that maybe even would have been able to rank within the Knights of Gwyn.

However, suddenly black smoke emitted from the Black Knight and Ornstein could see a sword coming out of one of the armour joints and recognized, that the little Storm had attacked from the behind.

“Now, Ornstein.”, Tempest yelled. “Finish it off!”

Ornstein didn't need to hear this twice and thrust his spear deep into the Black Knight which screeched and dissipated in that black smoke, only leaving the weapon behind that fell to the ground with a clank.

“Hey, nice, it left the halberd behind.”, Tempest said and picked it up but struggled to stay upright as he tried to swing it. “Heavy...!”, he groaned.

“These things were made to fight demons and worse.”, Ornstein said. “That is why they are so big. You need enormous strength to lift them with one hand.”

“It feels like I could manage with two...”, Tempest said, weighing the weapon in his hand. “But I think I prefer the sword. After all, this was the weapon you trained me to use, Ornstein.”

“Just because it is the most versatile and easiest to learn.”, Ornstein said. “Now come, let's not dawdle here. You told me you have seen Havel around here. The Stone Warrior.”, Ornstein added when Tempest gave him uncomprehending look.

“Aaah, yes, the guy with the giant club.”, Tempest clapped in his hands. “Not far from here. There should also be a bonfire around here, so let's visit it first. I am not too sure if I can survive a single hit from this club.”

“It's actually a dragon tooth.”, Ornstein said. “Havel was one of the few humans who managed to kill a dragon on his own and the tooth of the dragon became his weapon. Incredibly strong for such a small race as yours.”

“I am pretty sure he was at least taller than me. Everyone is taller than me.”, Tempest blankly said as he walked along the path, stopping in front of a little cave. “The bonfire is in there, I just go touch it and then we can go and find Havel.”

Once Tempest returned he asked: “Ornstein, why do you want to slay Havel? He's undead. Slaying him won't do anything.”

“Remember what I told you in the asylum? When we were facing your hollow friend?”, Ornstein asked.

“...Um...”, Tempest squinted his eyes as he cogitated but then it came back to him. “Oh, the bit that Hollows can find their inner piece when it's the right person who slays them?”

Ornstein nodded: “Correct, that one.”

“But....”, Tempest said, “We don't even know if this is true. Maybe they just come back at the next bonfire and go wandering again...”

“It could be.”, Ornstein said. “I say it's worth a try.”

“But why are you interested in giving Havel peace?”, Tempest dug deeper.

“Because...”, Ornstein said, “...because once we were on the same side. In the dragon war. He was a fierce warrior and I respected him and his strength. I want him to have a clean end and not pace this land endlessly in the search for souls.”

“Hm...”, Tempest said. “Then let's go, he is in the tower at the edge of the path. If we move in a straight line neither the hydra nor the golems will see us.”

Arrived at the tower, Tempest pulled a key out of his pockets. “After he killed me I came back and locked the door again. Felt like the most safe thing to do.”, Tempest said.

“A good decision, little Storm.”, Ornstein said but grabbed Tempest's hand. “Wait, before you let him out, we should think up a strategy.”

“A strategy?”, Tempest asked. “..Um, how about... not dying?”

“Well, of course, but what I mean. Havel is wearing armour made of stone with almost no weak points. It will be extremely difficult to get through it or find the joints to actually hurt him. And I remember that the man beneath this armour was sturdy as well.”

“Stone armour? But Ornstein, can't you shatter rocks easily? You did it when we fought. Quite frequently.”, Tempest clapped in his hands upon this realization.

“...Little Storm, I can't believe that I forgot about this.”, Ornstein said.

“You have?!”, Tempest stared at Ornstein with wide eyes. How did one forget his own abilities and skills?

“Well, we haven't fought anything made of stone lately.”, Ornstein said defensively. “And while you are right, I can shatter rocks, I need to build up some momentum for it to work, especially on a moving foe. You will need to distract him for a while.”

Tempest shuddered: “I really don't want to feel this pain a second time...”

“Little Storm... you may be able to parry Havel.”

Tempest looked at Ornstein as if the dragon slayer had lost his mind: “Ornstein, have you seen how HUGE his club is? How should my meagre shield be able to parry that?” Tempest fell silent for a little moment and then added: “...What is it with you guys and having huge weapons?”

“We fought dragons.”, Ornstein said. “You would like to have a huge weapon too when your foe was ten times your size.”

“I fought foes ten times my size with a weapon half my size.”, Tempest said.

“And probably died a dozen times in the process.”, Ornstein scoffed.

“Well....”, Tempest said before sheepishly adding: “..true...”

“Trust me. Once you managed to make him topple I can get rid of the armour.”

“And when I mess up?”

Ornstein grinned under his helmet: “We have infinite tries.”

Tempest nodded and went to finally unlock the door. Once it swung open, Tempest hid behind it and Ornstein could already see Havel charging forwards and stepped back, a massive crash was heard as his dragon tooth club shattered the earth.

“...I really hope I don't mess this up...”, Tempest gulped as he pulled out sword and shield. The small Undead walked in front of Havel, shivering a bit as he looked up the giant club. The moment it was coming down on him he closed his eyes and jerked his shield up, shakily open them again when the anticipated pain was absent and the sound of armour bits falling to the ground was heard.

“Now, little Storm!”, Ornstein yelled and Tempest didn't wait to drive the sword deep into Havel's chest, which made the hollowed out Undead fall on the ground and disappear... hopefully to never be resurrected again.

“It really worked.”, Ornstein said, staring down at the ground where Havel had been only seconds before.

“What do you mean? You weren't sure about this?!”, Tempest stood there, heavily panting, massaging his left arm and shoulder. Parrying that club had taken a toll on his body.

“I never tried to use this technique on a moving object.”, Ornstein admitted.

“You are lucky that everything turned out just as planned.”, Tempest growled while his gaze fell on something on the floor. “A ring?”, he said as he picked it up.

“Huh?”, Ornstein said. “Strange... I could have sworn this was Havel... the real one and not one of his men...”

“What do you mean?”, Tempest asked.

“Havel had an army of soldiers who wore the same armour as him, but Havel was the only one strong enough wearing it. All of his soldiers got a ring like this, that made them able to wear heavy armour and move around in it. It's strange that Havel should have it.”

“Maybe he carried one of it around to give to any new soldiers?”, Tempest mused.

“Maybe.”, Ornstein said and then repeated. “Maybe...”

The both of them stayed in the tower a little while longer with Ornstein telling Tempest about a few feats of Havel, the human dragon slayer and how much he hated Seath and that was what made Ornstein feel sympathy for him. “We often talked about Seath and how much we hated him.”, Ornstein said. “Though for Havel it was also weariness of magic, for me it was mostly because of how insufferable Seath was.”

“Sometimes I wish I would have lived at your time.”, Tempest said with starry eyes. “It must have been beautiful back then.”

“It was.”, Ornstein said. “But that's over now. Come, little Storm, let's take care of the hydra. It has gotten too fat.”

Tempest didn't miss how Ornstein avoided the subject. While he had taken an interest in what Tempest's life had been like, the dragon slayer was still wary sharing things about himself, mostly talking about other people but not like his life has been or similar things. For Tempest it felt like this golden armour wasn't only used to protect Ornstein's body, but also his emotions. As if he was being a whole different person when he was wearing it.

Tempest was still determined to break Ornstein out of his shell, if the dragon slayer liked him back or not didn't matter to him at the moment, just once he wanted to see the real Ornstein. The man that hid behind dozen of pounds of golden plate armour. The one that people like Smough had seen.

“...tle Storm, have you been listening to me?”

“Huh?”, Tempest got ripped out of his thoughts by Ornstein's voice. “Um.. no.”, he had to admit.

“I told you that we need to be careful, there are quite a few of Seath's crystal golems roaming this garden. And I can already see the Hydra preparing to attack. It always has been hostile when I wasn't bribing it with food.”

“Oh, the crystal golems shouldn't be a problem. We killed a dozen of them in the archives.”, Tempest said, two handing his sword. “Let's just dive in.”

With that Tempest rushed off against the first crystal golem but regretted it greatly when he felt something similar to an arrow, but with far more force, impacting at him and he got skidded sideways, right in the arms of Ornstein who seemed to have waited for this exact outcome.

“It's always the same with you.”, Ornstein growled, lowering Tempest on his lap. “I just warned you that the Hydra would attack.”

“How should I have known that it would attack with some kind of ranged attack?”, Tempest groaned out, not sure how many bones in his body were broken. Ornstein already was searching for Tempest's Estus.

“It's a high pressure water shot.”, Ornstein said. “And you now know why it is a bad idea to let get yourself hit by it.” Ornstein guided the Estus to Tempest's lips and let the small Undead take a sip who sighed in relief as the pain went away but then shot up.

“Wait, what about the golem?”, he shouted.

“Got hit with you by the water shot and isn't a threat anymore.”, Ornstein said.

“Oh.”, Tempest said, scanning the area before turning back to Ornstein. “You saved me once again from a needless death, Ornstein. Thank you.”

“Don't mention it, you little idiot.”, Ornstein said just as Tempest realized that Ornstein had basically cradled him on his lap and got rather red in the face about the implication of this gesture. Even though Tempest knew that Ornstein didn't like him in that way, his own crush was far from having gone away. Especially with Ornstein being so considerate at him lately.

“Now.”, Ornstein said. “Let's just run down there. I am quick enough to not get hit.” Before Tempest could protest Ornstein lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder, making the small Undead yelp in surprise. “Hold on tight.”

Tempest was glad that he didn't need to eat anymore because the sensation of Ornstein's speed as he zigzagged down the hill and even managed to let every single lasting golem run into the hydra's water shots was letting his stomach do somersaults. Once Tempest could hear and feel water splashing, he found himself on the ground again, swaying a bit while Ornstein didn't waste a second to leap on the Hydra's back.

“I am going to force it's heads out and you slice them down!”, Ornstein shouted, his spear already deep in one of the necks of the hydra, forcing it to stretch out, right next to the spot where Tempest in the meantime had regained his composure.

“Cut it down!”, Ornstein shouted as five other heads directed their attention at the dragon slayer and prepared to charge at him just for Ornstein to jump out of the way at the last second and run along the one outstretched neck, shouting: “Little Storm, what are you waiting for?!”

Tempest, who had been far too much in awe at watching Ornstein, snapped out of it and turned around to face the head. It was rather angry looking and growled and hissed and just as it tried to snap at Tempest Ornstein jumped on it and it splashed into the water again: “Don't waste any time, cut it down while the others haven't noticed that I am not there and are fighting each other!”

“Sorry.”, Tempest said and sliced a clean cut into the neck of the hydra, making the head go limp after it screeched in pain. Unfortunately, that got the attention of the other heads and five pairs of eyes got directed at the duo.

“Well, crap.”, Ornstein only said and jumped out of the way of the charge, taking Tempest with him as he rolled in the water. “And my weapon is still in its back.”

“Your.... WHAT?!”, Tempest yelled. “And now?!”

“Don't quail, little Storm, just get it's attention for ten second.”

“..I am dead...”, Tempest murmured, but heeded Ornstein's order and jumped up and down, shouting: “Hey, you over there, you dumb hydra. How about you try to pick a fight with someone your own size?! ...Wait!”

Just as Tempest recognized how contradicting his taunt had been, five hydra heads were charging at him and he, in a motion of poor fear and instinct, had raised his shield and stood there, shivering, until he opened his eyes and realized that he actually not only was still alive but also unharmed. He jumped as another of the hydra heads splashed in the water next to him.

“Now!”, Ornstein yelled and this time Tempest didn't hesitate and sliced the neck open right away.

The dance continued three more times, with Ornstein jumping and running elegantly on the hydra's back and necks, not failing once to give Tempest an opportunity to slice them open. Once the last neck was cut the whole body of the Hydra went limp. Tempest allowed himself a moment to breathe and Ornstein landed in the water next to him.

“Ornstein.”, Tempest said. “You would have been able to slay this thing on your own, right?”

“Your help was beneficial.”, Ornstein said. “The water is quite deep there. With my armour I would have sunken to the ground like a stone. Preparing it for you to make the death blows was the best way to handle it.”

Tempest went pale: “The water was that deep?! I could have drowned.”

“What? I have seen you swim in the bath...”, Ornstein said.

“That's different! I can't swim that well. Especially not while holding on various weapons!”, Tempest waded backwards out of the water and fell over something in the process. “Ugh, if I haven't been wet enough already...”

Ornstein waded next to Tempest, offering the small Undead a hand which he gratefully took and got lifted up with ease. Then he looked down and saw something shimmering in the water. “Oh, poor guy.”, Tempest said.

“Probably fell against the hydra.”, Ornstein said as he noticed the knight's armour in the water. “Alright, shall we dry off and then...”, Ornstein didn't want to be the one to speak it out, he had tried so hard to avoid Blighttown all this time but they were running out of options.

“Wait, Ornstein.”, Tempest interrupted him. “There is another one of Seath's crystal golems back there!”

Ornstein glanced into the direction Tempest was pointing and in fact, there was a golden crystal golem.

“Hm, we should check this out.”, Ornstein said, one part curiosity but the other part being glad they could avoid Blighttown a little while longer. “But like I said, the water there is deep and with me wearing armour and you apparently being a bad swimmer, we should stay at the edges.”

Tempest nodded and followed closely behind Ornstein, who had his eyes directed at the water, always making sure that they weren't getting into too deep water. Arrived at their destination, the golden golem noticed the new threat and attacked right away.

With them having taken out so many of them already, the battle wasn't a problem and Tempest only got hit once and didn't miss to complain about having gotten wet again but then the golem dissolved and... Ornstein swallowed hard when he saw just who was standing in front of them.

The woman who came out of the golem was none other than Dusk, Princess of Oolacile, a kingdom that had fallen hundreds of years ago and the reason for one of the worst memories in Ornstein's life.

Upon seeing him, Dusk straightened her post and said: “Dragon Slayer. It seems like fate has brought us together once again.” (Author's note: I know there is a lot of discourse about Gwyndolin's gender in the fandom but I headcanon them to be non binary and that is what they were talking about. With Gwyn forcing them to be female while them not feeling female themselves, they vowed to themselves to never force a child to be something they aren't. I don't wish to discuss this, I just ask for you to respect my headcanon for Gwyndolin. Thank you very much. Hm, Tempest was a bit lewd in this chapter. Are you alright, little Storm?) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/615655232009093120/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-25-fandom-dark

[chandelierslayer]

Y’know, there are a lot of narrative choices and tropes that I outright hate with a fiery passion. Veritable plateaus of text have been dedicated to pointing out why and how stories that use them can be made better. And “super bloodlines” or whatever you want to call it, is one of the biggest offenders. It irritates me to no end when writers can’t let their person be special on their own merit. Everyone has to be connected to some kind of magical bloodline. This hero was able to vanquish the hero because they’re from a long line of special people. This woman can talk to the planet and she’s the ONLY ONE who can because it’s a thing only her race can do, and the rest of her race is dead. This villain was inevitably going to become the sixth ranger because they belong to bloodline that is always Good™ or is SURPRISE! the sibling of one of the heroes. This horse is more BEAUTIFUL and SPECIAL than all the other horses because it’s the descendant of the horse ridden by a PRINCESS (really???). Yeah. You get my drift. 

But when bloodlines are (actually or just hinted at being) in the backdrop of a story, with no special privileges bestowed because of it, I don’t mind. So when I was examining the maps of A Link to the Past and The Minish Cap together (which I originally only did to look for similarities between those two and the LoZ map, hi, welcome to how we do things around here, my trails of thought are split ends and those split ends have split ends and you get it) and trying to find more than a few similarities to back up two of my previous theories (I need help, somebody throw down a rope), and I found something that made me throw them off of the stove completely, I wasn’t at all bothered by the idea of the two little dudes who make the Master Sword red being descended from Minish Cap Link. Instead, I just used that thought to further fuel my digging into the theory I’ll lay out before you. 

Now, with that absurdly long and unnecessary intro out of the way, I hope you enjoy. XD

Picture, if you will, a cozy little house surrounded by trees. It’s also a smithy, where the sound of metalworking can be heard from closeby. To the west of this house is a body of water stretching from North to South. If you walk North of the house, you’ll eventually come across a road that runs from East to West. Not far Northwest from that point, you’ll find a place called the Lost Woods. 

Now, what did I just describe? The home of Smith and his grandson? Or the home of two tiny blacksmiths who helped the Hero of Legend stop the Cataclysm by strengthening the blade of evil’s bane? 

And no, no, no, don’t worry, I’m not asking you to believe that the Lost Woods in ALttP is the same as the “Lost Woods” South of the Royal Valley in TMC. That would be silly, right? Hahaaa. No. I’m asking you to believe that it’s part of it. The Northwestern part, that is. Sort of. Around that area. Look, if some of these map theorists out here can swivel maps diagonally and flip them completely around to make them fit together, I can be vague about some thick woods, okay? (No hate, I love you guys, keep doing what you’re doing) *ahem* So yeah. 

Let’s zoom out from that tiny scenario I was describing earlier. The idea is that the first Hyrule Castle¹ is around the area where the “Bumpkin Family” house and the Eastern part of the Lost Woods is. North Hyrule Field would be South of that, and Hyrule Town, whether you want it to be the same as or separate from OoT’s Castle Town, would be just South of that (the road running East to West, under the fortune teller’s place, would be the same road as the one just South of the town gate in TMC)

Yes, this means that ALttP’s Kakariko is where the Trilby Highlands/Western Wood used to be (and a little bit where TMC’s Hyrule Town is), which ALSO means that Wind Ruins, Castor Wilds, and Mt. Crenel are just West of all that, putting it just outside the ALttP map² (conveniently out of the way - sorry I love all three of you, you’re wonderful, mwah). This also means that Veil Falls would’ve been just about at the Westernmost parts of that gigantic mountain range thing in ALttP they call Death Mountain, which I’m okay with. Also means the Minish Woods was around where the Sanctuary and Hyrule Castle are in ALttP. Ouch. But I mean, it’s not the most devastating thing the Hylians have done, so moving on. Also, the first Lon Lon Ranch would be in the Death Mountain foothills, to the West. 

So, why do I like this idea so much? First, it aligns pretty neatly with the idea that the Master Sword grove in ALttP is where the Temple of Time used to be - at least, to me. But I’m also of the opinion that the Temple of Time/Sacred Grove/Lost Woods grove area are all the same - meaning that’s also where the Sealed Grounds was - and it never changed. Um... No matter what other theories I come up with/entertain, that’s always gonna be the case, I can pretty much guarantee. I just don’t like the theory that the Temple of Time was moved. Granted, I’m more okay with that idea in this timeline than in the Child Timeline, because in the Child Timeline the Hero of Time prophecy still has never come to pass, it’s still a sort of messianic legend the people believe strongly in, and even though the royal family has been told of the whole time-travel shenanigans thing, ha ha haaaaaaaaa... I don’t think they’d be able to convince an entire society that there was no longer need for that five-piece seal. The descendants of the ones entrusted with the keys are probably still clutching them tightly to this very day... Actually what am I talking about? All that stuff is forgotten about, shrouded in the mists of time and whatnot. Whoops, guess this green and shining stone can fetch me a pretty penny at the pawn shop... ANYWAY. We’re here for the Fallen Timeline right now, so let’s FOCUS. 

Another part of all this is my old theory... hypothesis?... idea? that the Sealed Temple/Temple of the Goddess, and later the Temple of Time that was build where that used to stand, were somewhere behind/within the castle in TMC (not in the game, obviously, but you know how this works). The reason I believe this, is because TMC happens at a time when Hyrule is a young kingdom. It has literally one town and everything else around it is all wild lands, as far as they’re concerned. It’s obvious that they’ve only just settled there in the past few centuries, and I doubt they would stray far from the place where they first touched down. 

So. If the Temple of Time is where the Master Sword grove is later, that would put OoT’s Hyrule Castle North of the ALttP map, Market where the Lost Woods eventually grows, Hyrule Field/the second Lon Lon Ranch in the Southern Lost Woods plus where ALttP’s Kakariko is built and the surrounding area (which also means Ordon Village is around the second Kakariko area in the Child Timeline. Amazing. No matter what happens, that land WILL be repurposed into village land. Except in the Adult Timeline, it’s been destroyed, bye-bye), and mayyyybe the Desert of Mystery where OoT’s Lake Hylia was??? Although this also means I could’ve been wrong all these years about the Minish Woods: Maybe they ARE where the OoT Lost Woods are after all. Hmmm. Honestly I still personally prefer the idea of OoT’s Lost Woods being where the Eastern Palace area is in ALttP. Lots of deforestation no matter where my theories go... That’s depressing. Hylians, stop being jerks. At least they’re less jerks than humans have historically been to each other. So far. I can only prove their oppression of AT MOST three and a half races so far, so honestly, we’re looking at an improved world here.

Ummmm I think that was about it. Did I have anything else before I zoom into the notes? No? Alrighty let’s wrap this up! 

¹ When I first played TMC, I had no problem thinking that Hyrule Castle and the one in OoT were the same, Hyrule Town became Castle Town, and the Minish Woods are located in some indeterminate woodland somewhere between Castle Town and Kakariko. But like I said, I’ve become partial to the idea that the Temple of Time is behind/around the castle in TMC, not shown, out of sight, protected, so I theorized them building a new castle elsewhere. Then again, that idea comes from the idea of the Temple of Time being built over the Sealed Grounds, and that hasn’t been shown or said in-game yet, so both options are valid to me I guess. I love Historia, and I take its word with more salt than Encyclopedia, but still not enough to season my stuffed pumpkins on a Monday night. ...I still believe wholeheartedly that Hyrule Castle in TP is a completely different castle up North from where the original one - and the town, and the Temple of Time - were in OoT, and TP’s Lake Hylia is not the same Lake Hylia, and Arbiter’s Grounds/the more “Western” style Gerudo desert is North of the OoT desert, etc., and you’ll never be able to pry that belief out of my cold, dead, fingers, so don’t even try. Er... I mean... ... Golly, you guys, aren’t hypotheses fun? ^__^

² Which I’m thinking would mean Mt. Crenel is just North of Gerudo Valley, maybe even a mountain or cliff you can see in-game, and Castor Wilds would maybe eventually be the land the river runs through in the canyon below. Or... part of said land. Who knows. Ah man now I wanna make my Link (from Peace of Heart) jump down from the Gerudo Valley bridge with her Roc’s Cape and glide down to the Wind Ruins all cool and stuff! <<33 Just kidding, Gerudo Valley is no longer exactly there in that fic, in fact Gerudo haven’t been in that area in ages. It’s... a long story. In more than one meaning of the phrase. ANYWAY.

Alternatives: Smith’s House TMC is Link’s House ALttP - this is not a new idea, I don’t think. I’ve seen other people propose it, it’s a great idea, my idea is just this but like, scooched over a little. I’m sorry, I never claimed to be original. XDD The great thing about both of these theories is that they put Syrup’s hut pretty much around the point where it is in both ALttP and TMC, if you think about it. 

Hyrule Town TMC is Hyrule Castle ALttP - this also works? Kind of? Except it doesn’t give a lot of room North of the castle for the stuff that should be there (although that’s explain-away-able if you take the “the mountain formed over the ages” route, which I personally like, because I like the idea that OoT Kakariko was around where the Sanctuary/Graveyard is in ALttP and then a series of volcanic eruptions happened, resulting in the formation of the Westernmost mountain and also the destruction of the original Kakariko and the village moving Southwest. ...I’m sorry). 

That’s all I have for you today (I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss anything) and to my followers, I am really sorry I’m never around anymore. I have no excuse. Please forgive me. I’ll try to make some posts about my recent LoZ misadventures, but... No promises, okay? Let’s take it one day at a time. However, you CAN follow me here to actually watch some of those misadventures, so there’s that! ^__^

Until next time, have fun, stay safe, and drink water! PACE~

[symphonic-scream]

Difficult Times

Hibiki had been in Lit Class when the alarms sounded. His Mama had just instructed 1-A to pull out their reading homework from the night before when the lights cut out and the alarms rang out. The red emergency lights flashed, bathing the class in red light. They’d had three drills so far this year, so they all knew what to do. But it was the panicked look on Yaoyorozu Momo’s face that made Hibiki’s nerves surface. The class flooded for the door, but he hung back to look up at his Mama. “Is this a drill?” She shook her head, lightly pushing him out the door. “No, it’s not a drill, ‘Biki. Please, go to your dorm, follow procedure. Please.” The stress she put on her pleads made Hibiki want to cry, so he quickly embraced her before running after his class. Sero Chiaki was at the back with Hagakure Hiroki, who looked like he was hyperventilating. Ojirou Kazuya was glaring at anyone who looked back at him, while the class reps guiding the along the designated route. Once they were all inside the door to Alliance Heights, Hibiki flipped the lock, and joined his classmates in the living room. Someone had already drawn the curtains, leaving them in almost complete darkness, the only light coming from Himura Miyoko’s eyes. Hiroki was whimpering, clutching his head and curled into Chiaki’s side. “Is everyone here?” Akiyama Keiko whispered, leaning about to try to count everyone. “Hoshiko? You here?” “Yes.” A quiet voice  came from beside the couch. Hoshiko was hidden under Yoshida Fumiko’s arm, seeming surprisingly small despite being taller than the girl beside her. “I don’t remember another drill being on Pa’s schedule.” Bakushima Tadashi murmured, turning his red eyes to Hibiki. “Did your Mama mention anything? I saw that you left last.” “Well, I, uh.” Hibiki stuttered, trying to decide whether to tell them or not. “It wasn’t on her schedule, but it could be a special drill. I’ve heard of them running drills without telling the staff first before.” A click came from their door, and everyone turned to watch as it quickly opened, before shutting behind whoever had entered. Minata Yui, one of Awase Masuyo’s friends, waved, as she flipped on the lights. “Class 1-A, yeah?” “Who are you?” Keiko practically barked, standing defensively in front of the class. Yui held up her hands, smiling sheepishly. “Minata Yui, Class 3-F. I’m supposed to be supervising you guys.” “Then why did you turn on the lights?” Ishikawa Rai asked, squinting his cat-like eyes. It was against school policy to have any lights on during an emergency drill. “Look, this isn’t a drill, and due to special circumstances, you’re basically on house arrest, not emergency shut down.” “It’s not a drill?” Fujioka Katsumi squeaked, ducking behind Kita Tomoko. Yui sighed, taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs still set up from last night’s movie marathon. “Please, sit on a couch or something, and I’ll explain.”

-

So, things went from bad to so much worse. A terrorist group that had started in America had shown up in Musutafu today, attacking the city with all their might. All heroes, even those off call or teaching, were called in, along with the third year hero students. So, not only were both Hibiki’s moms out fighting dangerous terrorists, but his older brother was there too. If things went really bad, he’d have no family left. Hiroki was sobbing, clutching Chiaki, who was crying silently. Kazuya was sitting completely stunned on Hibiki’s right while Tadashi, on his left, stared down at his own hands. Tomoko was biting her lip, but was still comforting Katsumi. Tokoyami Hoshiko was hiding her face in Fumiko’s shoulder, and Hibiki, well, he wasn’t taking it too well either. He couldn’t get the image of himself sitting in Principle Aizawa’s office, his Uncle Tomohiro and his wife sitting beside him, as the news that he was orphaned and brother-less was repeated to him, over, and over, and over- He felt a warm hand enclose around his own, and raised his eyes to look at Tadashi. The black haired boy didn’t smile, but squeezed his hand, as if offering Hibiki support. Hibiki squeezed back, leaning into his best friend. Yui said it would be a long night; that when things were finally over, if any of their family were involved they’d be called down to be shuttled out to see them. Someone had turned on the TV, but had left it on the news. They were covering the attack, showing blurry shots of hundreds of heroes and students alike using their full power to keep the destruction where it was. Once in a while a green flash or explosion would go off, and once he swore he heard a blast of a Nickel Back song. Watching the footage was somehow both worse and better than not, until they watching one of the towering buildings begin to collapse. Yao-Managing Co.’s headquarters was falling fast, and Hibiki’s heart stopped. He knew deep down that everyone, including his Uncle Reiji and grandpa-Yorozu, had been evacuated hours ago, but he couldn’t help it. It hovered above on the spot for a spell, before slowly dropping to the ground safely. “Uravity.” He heard someone mutter in relief, before suddenly the footage was cut off. The class began to shout, before it cut back in. Half of the district was gone, leaving a large crater where downtown once stood. It was all too much for Hibiki, who ran towards one of the back rooms. He closed the door to the game room, hugging himself and panting, trying desperately to get the image of his family lying lifeless in that crater out of his head. Tadashi was by his side in a moment, tugging him close. His body ran warm, immediately chasing away the cold, chilling feeling that had settled in Hibiki’s stomach. “Hey.” He whispered, swaying slightly to a silent tune. “Are you alright?” “I don’t think so.” He mumbled, gripping his waist like a lifeline. “I just - why did Toshi have to go?” Tadashi hummed, dropping them both onto the largest beanbag. “I don’t know, Hibiki, but I do know he has Ryoko, and Daichi, and all our parents with him. They’re strong, and they took down the League.” Not once did Tadashi say things were going to be okay, and Hibiki suspected he understood that no one could guarantee that everyone would return in one piece. But he was right, after all. Toshiro was tough, as were Ryoko, Daichi, and the other teens he knew on the site. And the Pro Heroes, they had faced something similar and gotten out alive. “Thanks, Tadashi.” Hibiki whispered, cuddling closer to the warmer teen. He knew neither would be able to actually doze off, but sharing warmth away from the scenes of carnage on the screen was as close as they’d get. “Any time.”

-

It was maybe four hours later when Hadou Etsuko showed up to take them to the shuttle. She’d been in the school that day talking with Support Classes about career options,and as the oldest taking the shuttle, she was in charge. It wasn’t like anyone was going to misbehave. As they stopped by the middle and primary schools to pick up the others, the mood stayed dismal. When the youngest of Tadashi’s siblings, Takeo, had run onto the shuttle calling for his brother, Hibiki felt his heart sink. What would happen to Takeo if his dads were gone? He was only ten, after all. And losing his sister, the person he was closest to in this world? That would devastate him. When the shuttle pulled into the city’s main hospital, Hibiki froze. He knew that it would ruin him to find out his parents hadn’t made it, that Toshi was gone. Or, for that matter, any of his Aunts or Uncles. He couldn’t imagine Christmas without Denki dressing himself up like a tree. He couldn’t imagine Heroics class without Eijirou. He couldn’t imagine a world where Tenya didn’t patrol the halls, shouting at wandering students. A tug on his arm from Tadashi, and he was walking into the hospital, his family all around him. In the waiting room, Hibiki saw many of his brother’s classmates and his parent’s colleagues. He watched as Hiroki was being cradled by Tooru and Mina. How Hatsuko and Sachiko practically jumped Izuku, before doing the same to Shouto. How Sakurako was met by Tamaki, who hugged his daughter like the world was ending. Some didn’t seem to even find family members, like Kazuya, who was immediately led away by a nurse. It was crazy, like a zoo in the waiting room. And his vision tunneled when he saw his Mom. Hibiki practically rammed into her, tears falling down his cheeks. She grunted, but returned his tight embrace. He sobbed into her jacket as she rubbed his back, soothing him. “Hey, little man, I’m safe, I’m here. I’m okay.” “I love you so much, Mom.” He sniffled, squeezing her tighter for just a moment before releasing her, but not her hand. He needed the contact right now. “I love you too, Hibiki.” “Where’s Mama?” He remembered suddenly. “And Toshi? Mom? Where are they?” His Mom quickly grabbed his shoulders, halting his panicked word vomit. “They’re alive, buddy. Toshiro broke and arm and leg, and your Mama got a little scratched up. We can go see both of them right now, if you’d like?” Mother and son walked hand in hand down the white halls of the hospital, and Hibiki tried to tune out the pained wails of devastated families around him. Soon enough, they turned into a room, and the Yaoyorozu-Jirou family was reunited once more. Toshiro was sitting in a wheelchair, right arm and leg in thick, white casts, face covered in soot, a complex expression on his face. Their Mama was lying in the bed, cloak torn and hanging over a nearby chair. Her hair was down, and she was also covered in dirt and dust. And, the cherry on top, her stomach was covered in thick white bandages. “Hibiki!” She sighed in relief, reaching out for her youngest son. He darted forward, carefully falling into her embrace, watching for her wounds. “My sweet boy, I’m sorry if we worried you. I love you so much.” “I love you too, Mama.” He assured, once again feeling tears fall down his cheeks. “I love you guys so much.” He heard a squeak, and suddenly Hibiki was sitting on his brother’s lap, his uninjured arm holding him close. “Come here, ‘Biki, show your brother some love.” He threw his arms around him, just now noticing his costume was missing the large, thick jacket he used as protection. “Where’s your jacket, Toshi?” His smile faded, his grip tightening. “Ryoko.” This was worrying. Was she okay? She was practically Hibiki’s older sister with the amount of time she spent at their place, and it wouldn’t be right for her to be gone.” “Do you want to see her again, Toshi?” A gruff voice came from the door, and Hibiki turned to see his Uncle Katsuki, arms stained black, his costume torn up, his eyebrows completely singed off. Both his hands were heavily bandaged, and the tips of his hair looked burnt. Hibiki felt Toshiro nod, and held on as their Mom wheeled the two down the hall. Ryoko’s room was a place with a depressing aura. Eijirou was passed out on a small couch, body covered in scratches. Takeo was knocked out in his arms, leaving Tadashi as the only conscious one in the room. He was pulled right up to the bed, where Ryoko lay, connected to a slew of machines. Her hair was down, looking more like black than ashy blonde. Her lips were red and chapped, face looking a little raw. Her head was all wrapped up, and her left wrist was in a cast. She was wearing Toshi’s jacket, and her costume’s accessories were scattered over the furniture. Tadashi looked up as they entered, and Hibiki has never seen him look so lost. Katsuki left them to go embrace his son, literally pulling him out of his chair to get both of them comfortable. Hibiki got off of Toshiro, and watched as his brother wheeled right up next to father and son, placing his left hand on his best friend’s leg. There was some shouting from the hall, before a distraught Uraraka Machiko burst into the room, eyes wild until they landed on her girlfriend. “No.” She muttered, stumbling towards the bed. She looked like she had been crying already, but fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She stopped at the bedside, collapsing in the chair opposite the girl’s family. “What, what happened?” Toshiro shook a little, not looking up to meet his friend’s eyes. “We, me, her, Tarou and Ayumu, were fighting this one guy, and, the big explosion went off, and, it was really dark for a minute, and when I opened my eyes, she was on the ground, and they said she hit her head pretty hard, and I’m so sorry.” He broke down, his head falling forward as he sobbed. Tadashi leaned over, resting one of his warm hands against his back. “You did all you could, kid.” A new voice came. Tsuyu walked over to her oldest, her younger daughter asleep on her back. “No one saw that coming. We’re just lucky no one died today.” She was in hospital scrubs, her face and hands clean. Under her nails was a different story. They were dark red, still stained with blood. She let Taura off her back, laying the girl over the last couch before placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “She’ll wake up soon, too.” Tadashi muttered, watching the machines keeping his sister stable. “There’s only a small chance of amnesia, too. Some could say you’re worse for wear.” Toshi didn’t lift his head, but his sobs died off. Hibiki felt bad for his brother. He probably saw his best friend lying on the ground, believing she  was dead. It was probably going to bother him forever. Hibiki remembered his Mama telling them traumatic memories tended to be the strongest. “Is Ocha in surgery now?” Katsuki asked, looking at Tsuyu. She nodded, squeezing her daughter’s shoulders. “Yes, ribbit. They wheeled her in after the girls got a chance to see her.” Machiko was still crying, and she sniffled as she squeezed her eyes shut. “She was so pale.” She spoke, barely audible. “And she’ll live?” Katsuki inquired, shifting his son in his arms. “Yes, but there’s a 60% chance of paralysis.” Hibiki couldn’t help but feel awful for Machiko. She was probably having the worst day of her life. Her girlfriend is comatose, with a chance of waking up with no memory of her, and her mother might lose the use of her legs. Over the next few hours, tons of people came in to see Ryoko. Hadou Ayumu and Toogata Tarou, on their way back from seeing Tarou’s brother Yuudai. Iida Daichi, accompanied Kimiko, Hayate, Masuya and Misaki, their father, Tenya, leaving with a sad look. Even Shouto, who placed a singular daisy on the bedside table before leaving. It was quiet for a bit, safe for the faint noises of the machines hooked up to Ryoko. Hibiki almost thought everyone dozed off, but he knew better. The only way anyone was sleeping was going to be brought on by pure exhaustion. Soon, his Mom returned, taking him and Toshiro back to their Mama’s room for the night.

-

A week later, and things are only just looking up. Repairs to the city have started, led mainly by the Yaoyorozu’s company and funds, with large donations from many foreign aid programs. Many international support companies came to help build the city back up again, while heroes from other countries came to watch over the population while those involved in the fight healed. Ryoko had woken up two days after the attack, memories just a little fuzzy at first. She was going to be released tomorrow, alongside Ochako, who’s surgery had been a success, and was participating in physical therapy until further notice. Since most housing was destroyed, UA was closed for the month to house victims while temporary shelters and new homes were being built. Casualties were low, with only seven civilian deaths, and one of Deku’s sidekicks dying of his injuries just yesterday. With nothing better to do, Grandpa-Yorozu had offered to house every member of their UA family until the city got back on it’s feet, even going as far as to offer financial help to the Monomas and Awases, as their buildings were among those destroyed. While things were never going to be the same for the group, it was nice to have them all so close. Having everyone under the same roof was comforting, even if Hibiki was sharing Toshiro’s room with all the other children. The bed had been moved to Hibiki’s room, and mats, bedrolls, and sleeping bags were spread across the floor. Hibiki’s room was housing those like Ochako, who had received more severe injuries. Of the children, only Toogata Yuudai was in that room, as he’d been impaled through the abdomen by a stray beam. In Toshiro’s room, Hibiki could watch everyone. Kendou Moriko, who was sandwiched between her brother, Yuuto, and sister, Reina, both arms in casts. Even Tetsutetsu Isamu, who had Takeo and Monoma Yoshirou on his chest, Awase Kazuharu curled into his side. Machiko had barely left Ryoko's side since she woke up, even during sleep. Tadashi rolled over, elbowing Hibiki in the face. It was rather cramped having this many kids in one room, but it made it feel safer. Even if only six of them (excluding Yuudai) had been in the fight, it was a huge relief to have them close now. This was the life of Pro Heroes, Hibiki realized, pushing Tadashi’s arms away before curling into his best friend further. There were always going to be more battles to fight, and more aftermath to struggle through. They were lucky, having everyone come out alive. Next time, they might not be so lucky. The next morning, Hibiki sits with his Mama as they watch their UA family feast on the large breakfast that had been cooked up that morning. “Mama?” Hibiki asked, turning to look at her. She hummed, turning to face him as well. “Yes, Munchkin?” “Is it worth it?” She seemed to ponder it for a minute, watching Hadou Hideaki and Monoma Takara squabble over a bowl of potatoes. “It is worth it. Because without people fighting the good fight, mornings like these don’t exist. We fight so others don’t have to, Hibiki. That’s what heroes do.” He nodded. Yes, that’s what heroes did. It didn’t matter, in the long run, that Hitoshi had been slashed up, or that Izuku was almost crushed by a building. What mattered was that the group had been stopped, and the citizens could eventually return to their regular lives.