#and then i did and because autistic about the age of sail again

[abstractmelons]

true happiness is spotting jared harris in things and then watching two things wherein jared harris is in a lead role and getting to shine and then becoming more obsessed with jared harris and jared harris

[bearsinpotatosacks]

I feel like writing is taking me ages recently (with good reason, I'm working my first full time job, can't drive, am autistic, it's winter in the UK and I'm trying to get everything I need done to look after myself) but also want to tell people about my ideas (for Top Gun at least) so while I write them, here they are.

Foster Parent AU - Goose's family fostered, Goose lives but leaves the Navy and he and Carole become foster parents. This fic follows them taking care of each of the Daggersquad. Currently writing

Mermaid AU - Goose and Mav join a crew against their will (either this or they never sail again) that are Mermaid hunters. While scouring an island, they meet Carole, a mermaid who lures sailors to their deaths. Goose is enamoured with her and returns again only to get spotted by Tom Kazansky. He pressures Goose and Mav to take Carole hostage, they refuse and go on the run.

Various Goose Lives AUs - One where he has seizures and Carole hides her being pregnant again due to Goose’s accident. One where Rooster's still estranged but is brought back to his parents after Goose has a stroke in the early 2010s. One where Goose overworks himself as an Admiral and neglects his marriage, leaving Carole falling into depression. And a 5+1 of kids they could've had and 1 they did

Various resurrection AUs - Goose travels to the future and hears Carole calling him from beyond the veil. Goose and Carole coming back to life and Bradley realising he has mummy and daddy issues.

Some time travel AUs - The Daggersquad + Mav see Goose and Carole's memories because Rooster wishes on a star that he knew his parents better (just an excuse to write all my backstory for top gun while also having Bradley react to them). Also the Daggersquad travelling back to 1986 and shenanigans ensue

Goose ends up giving sex advice to the top gun guys who don't know how to treat a woman

The obligatory Star Trek AU - Thinking more AOS (reboots for those unfamiliar) where Mav is part-human part-romulan. His parents stopped some universal crisis but it happened in the neutral zone so is too secret, Mav was partially raised on Romulus before his mum died and he was sent to Earth. Iceman is Andorian, his name literally coming from him being from an ice planet. Goose is a simple ol' human, Carole's part betazoid. Just need to think of what Slider could be, please give your suggestions

Macheresin - Mav comforts Hangman after Coyote's g-lock thing. The all important "He's the only family I have" line is used

Slooserole- Bradley asks about their relationship. Icemav find out. Carole gets sick and Goose neglects his health but only Slider knows. A different timeline where Goose gets with Slider in Top Gun (with Carole's permission) but Carole falls for him too upon seeing him. Also a high school AU where Goose and Slider compete for Carole, Goose and Slider get into an argument and after Goose is away all summer with his grandad, comes back to see Carole and Slider are together

Slarole- A general get together fic. A later fic in the same timeline as previous where Carole gets pregnant and is unsure whether to keep it due to thinking she didn't want kids with Slider. A set up fic where Icemav set up Slarole with a massage. And a monster fic where Slider is assigned to be Bradley's monster (ala Monster's Inc) but finds out that the Bradshaws have way more hurt than normal humans (due to this being after Goose's death) and falls for Carole

I want to write most of these so no pressure to me 😅

[naruthandir]

Funny to me how for most people it's a LOTR->Linguistics pipeline but for me it was a linguistics->LOTR pipeline. I never really had an interest in reading Lord of the Rings because the whole thing used to struck me as very boring and I didn't really care but from ages 12-14 I was really getting into fantasy worldbuilding and conlanging "formally" (I did do that kind of stuff before that, but I didn't know it had a name or that there were comunities formed around it) and I said "Look if I am going to be a nerd about this I am going to be a full nerd about this I can't go around life calling myself a Fantasy Nerd™ when all I know about LOTR is that there is a fucked up goblin guy and Legolas has a bow" so I decided to bought the Fellowship of the Ring book in the bookstore because I am autistic and I have a hard time engaging with material I am unfamiliar with so I just picked the safest option and then I read it in a weekend. I came home, I sat down to read, and from the very start I was invested. Because Tolkien had THE BALLS to open his book with an extensive infodump about Hobbit culture and I was so into that. And the chapters in the Shire, they were a genuine delight for me. I thought the book would be boring but it was fun! It was funny! And hobbit culture felt so alive...

And when the final chapter of the Fellowship came I almost cried. Rightly, it was at that moment I realized that this was going to be a life-changing experience whether I like it or not.

Since I didn't have the rest of the books back then (and I wasn't really able to get them for reasons I don't remember) I did the most autistic thing: Right after finishing it, I decided to read it again, because I was that obsessed. I made so much silly cringy art of the characters as I imagined them and it was all I could think about in school. When I finally got my hands to The Two Towers and The Return of the King I decided to refresh my memory by reading Fellowship AGAIN and because it was summer I had the luxury to just sit down and read all day long and it was great.

I went into the books as blind as you could possibly go: I knew there were conlangs and lore, I knew there were elves, I knew the protagonist was named Frodo and the plot was about destroying a ring (there is also a being that calls the ring precious because its like a drug? Idk). But not much else. I didn't know Boromir was going to die. I didn't know about Galadriel or Elrond or Aragorn or Sam. Yes, I didn't know that Sam was a character. I was genuinely surprised at each turn the plot was taking. I was surprised about how GAY it all was (why didn't they tell me about this??) and I was absolutely shaken and emotionally destroyed with the ending. The Return of the King was an awakening of sorts for me, because I was expecting a whimsical fantasy story and instead I got to see The Horrors and I just couldn't believe the comic relief characters were dealing with suicidal ideation, out of all things.

And the last bit of Frodo's journey... Well, the scene in the tower of Cirith Ungol was genuinely rough (when Sam found Frodo, he was naked. And I just closed the book and stared into the ceiling for a while. I just had to take a break real fast) and the struggle with the ring as they got closer to Mordor and I was constantly almost-crying-but-not-quite and I knew, even though I went into the story un-spoiled, I knew Frodo wouldn't give up the ring. And then having him deal with the aftermath of it, and I was so distressed the whole time because finally, someone out there gets it. He sailed off to the west and I cried. I actually cried, right after finishing the book, yes, but for a few nights after as well. It was, well, a lot to process for 14 year old me. It had me looking up the diagnostic criteria of PTSD on Google at three in the morning because this can't be right. It wasn't that bad, surely I'm just being dramatic.

And it is very funny, that I was getting into the books expecting extensive sections of infodumping and lore and LINGUISTICS and I did get that, don't get me wrong, but I also got an emotionally resonant story that complelty re-contextuslized my lived experiences, helped me process stuff I had been shoving down the back of my mind because I didn't have the words to even describe it to myself, and lowkey turned me into a transgender anarchist. I was a changed man (just now fully aware that I was a man in the first place). It blew me away completely.

And it also reinforced my interest in linguistics! I often joke about this, but as a kid, I used to read the dictionary instead of paying attention in class. I liked words. Like, a lot. I liked the way words interacted with each other. I was like 9, perhaps, when I first attempted to create a made-up language, for a race of fictional mermaid race. I was really into My Little Pony at the time and I stole a lot of the story from there (don't forget I was nine) and my attempt at conlanging utterly failed, but still. LOTR felt pretty much tailored to me, when I finally gave it a shot. My favorite appendix was, of course, the one dealing with translation. If I was mildly interested in linguistics before this sent me down a rabbithole. I did my whole final school project for graduating on minority languages of Europe (though, due to the pandemic, I never finished it, which is a shame). I picked the literature course in high-school over the fine arts course because they had a morphology and etymology class. I named myself Beren, for fuck's sake, and I've been going by this name in real life for two and a half years by now. That's how important it was.

I really can't overstate how much this silly little book with silly little fairy people influenced my life. It's. Well, it's cringy, it's awfully, awfully cringy, embarrassing, mortifying. Isn't it funny, that we are shamed and made fun of for loving things so unapologetically? For genuinely connecting with art? Even though that's like, the whole point?

I just want to say. This is important to me. This means a lot to me. I keep talking about it but I can't help myself because it's hilarious. I went into this book out of a sense of responsibility and it completely changed my life.

This post wasn't meant to be this long. Uh. Sorry. I just wanted to make a silly joke about "Tolkien fan goes on to study formal linguistics, but it's not for the reason you think" but it turned into this whole personal rant. This is like a tendency of mine, no I don't know how to stop it. I'm sorry if this is in your dash lmao

[justawanderingbabbit]

Commentary on "I'm So Pretty" 1/??

I've been having thoughts about "I'm So Pretty", the comic-drama Liu Chang had a small but important role in.

And, having spent an afternoon doing screenshots from the show thanks to those thoughts, I'm going to inflict them on y'all now. At least in part because this is likely to need multiple posts to complete.

This is Song Qinghe. Photographer. Older brother to Song Shiyao, best friends with Shen Hao Chen, another photographer.

Notice the expression. You're going to be seeing it A. Lot.

That, btw, is where I think Liu Chang's showing both his acting skill and his ability to instill personality into his characters. You might think it's easy to be this expressionless, but when you're faced with characters like Song Shiyao or Shen Hao Chen, it's likely a strain. Especially given how giggly this man is in Real Life.

To continue. Song Qinghe is "waking" his little sister up so she can go to her new fashionable high school. He is not doing much of a job of it, however, as she's late and all he's doing is staring.

.oO(Should I poke her? Nah. Just sit here and wait. She'll wake up. Right?) She does, but she's running later than she should be and, well, her school is A Lot and if I actually liked that part of the plot I'd do a blog about it. I don't like it much so I won't.

Song Qinghe's relationship with baby sister is (I think) typical given their age gap. He looks in his early twenties and she's a stereotypical teenage girl, with her head full of makeup and, well, this man.

That's Wa'er, by the way, Liu Chang's roommate (at least he was at some point) and fellow cast member of Lost Tomb. (Waves at my Lost Tomb buddies because, yeah, this wouldn't have happened without Lost Tomb inflicting me with a serious Liu Chang obsession.)

As noted, Song Shi Yao likes likes LIKES Shen Hao Chen, to Gege's apparent irritation. (It can be hard to tell, given how little he emotes. Once again, more on which later.)

A demonstration of one of the ways Song Shi Yao tries to get attention. First a bit of leg, then....

*sigh* Yes, child. You like him and you want him to think you're pretty. But that... that's maybe a bit too much? At least Song Qinghe thinks so.

Big brothers can be such assholes.

By the way, Shen Hao Chen has been steadily dumping food in Song Qinghe's bowl and a bit more into Song Shi Yao's. A comparison. (Also a Ship is Launched).

Song Qinghe's bowl below.

And Song Shiyao's.

When Song Shiyao dumps her onions, she sets off a lecture from her brother.

One that goes on for a bit but in the end comes down heavily on the side of Onions are Important and Special and Should Not be Looked Down On. Throughout which, Shen Hao Chen is laughing up his sleeve. I have a feeling he's heard this before.

During another meal, where one of Song Shiyao's friends comes over for lunch, we're treated to a moment of tacit understanding as Song Qinghe and Shen Hao Chen have a conversation that never actually addresses its subject. (That ship is sailing out the harbor here!)

It's followed up by an abrupt decision on Song Qinghe's part to shower, which involves him knocking on the wall to get things like shampoo and this (below) from Shen Hao Chen.

I did not, totally did not, screen cap that shot just because of Liu Chang's hands. Absolutely did not. Nope.

Yeah, I did. Damn that boy has gorgeous fingers. (goes to get pencil and paper to draw.)

Anyway, having run out of image space, I'm going to close this post up in a moment. But first, my opinion of what Liu Chang's going for with this character.

I'm almost sure he's playing Song Qinghe as mildly autistic. He comes off as a bit of an asshole in the beginning, but as time goes on, and you see his reaction to life being thrown at him (wait for his modeling arc), you realize a lot of what he does seems to be due to simply not knowing how to react, or if he should react.

That onion lecture is another sign of where he was going with the character. The show is, of course, a comedy, so a diatribe about the importance of onions is natural. Except it's coming from the quietest, most serious, most untalkative character in the show. And fits beautifully with a not uncommon tendency for someone on the spectrum to have pre-recorded lectures on particular subjects.

He mostly avoids touching and emotes on such a subtle level that you might think he feels nothing. Except, this being Liu Chang, you see flashes of what's going on inside and there's depths to that character that we're never allowed to see. I sort of wish there was a side movie that showcased him, rather than the messy oddness that's the rest of the series.

Next post, when I get to it, will cover Song Qinghe's first photoshoot with Lin Xi, who I've seen described as his love interest. I disagree but I'll go into that in depth later.

ETA: Linkages Next

1|2|3|4

[autistic-paul]

Dumbass (With Love)

Summary:

Emma and Paul have different styles of communication, and Emma has a hard time being vulnerable. Also, she calls Paul a dumbass a lot. It works out.

Tags: Paulkins, Autistic Paul, Fluff, So much fluff.

AO3, or under the cut!

Emma wasn’t the most in touch with her feelings. Generally speaking, feelings belonged buried in her chest where no one could touch them, not even herself. Paul… Paul was not like Emma. Paul was open, he talked about how he felt, and he talked about how he felt about her. Watching him change as their relationship developed had been like seeing a flower bloom. He started spending more time with Bill, he smiled more, he seemed to find a purpose in life. Maybe it was something internal, him choosing to take what scraps of joy he could get, maybe it was as simple as Emma helping him realize that people could, and did, care about him. Emma decided it didn’t particularly matter. He was happy, and Emma enjoyed being around him, and she enjoyed the way he lit up when he saw her. She looked forward to him visiting her on this coffee break. She’s count down the minutes until it’d be time, when she’d turn around and see him standing there, waiting for the order that he no longer had to ask for. It’d be ready. As hard as it was to admit, Emma was happy too.

Their relationship had been pretty steady sailing from day one. Or at least, steady for them, given their clumsy start. They’d known each other for ages before anything had truly happened between them. Paul had come in for his shitty coffee every day, and every time, they’d strike up a conversation. It got out of hand far too quickly, Paul would have to run back to the office because they’d lose track of time. Zoey, that snitch, told Nora about Emma leaving the customers waiting so she could talk to the dude in the suit, because god forbid Emma get a few minutes to herself on the clock. The next day, Emma forced herself to tell Paul that she had to get to work. Their conversation about CRISPR would have to wait for another day. Paul’s face had fallen, the guy really didn’t have a poker face, and Emma considered telling Nora to fuck off. Before she could make a terrible decision, Paul spoke, the words running together like he hadn’t sorted them out in his mind. Only Paul Matthews would ask her if she wanted to get a coffee sometime while in a coffee shop. The second the words left his lips he closed his eyes, looking as if he was desperately begging for the ground to swallow him whole.

Emma was still surprised that she managed to keep a straight face. She simply slid Paul his cup of coffee, distantly realizing that once again, they’d talked long enough that it was no longer hot. If she’d had any doubts about her response, that cleared them away. Sliding him that coffee was as clear of a yes as she could manage, and it was a message. What made these daily conversations distinctly separate from dates? Other than the fact that she was at work, but damn, Emma didn’t give a shit about any of the other customers. She certainly didn’t chat with them, she was here to give them their cups of liquid sugar and get them out. Paul didn’t seem to get the hint, though. He seemed to think that her offer was a gentle rejection rather than a subtle yes. He was still busy purposefully not looking at her, his gaze on the floor, which made grabbing his coffee rather difficult. Needless to say, as he reached out to grab it, he misjudged how far away the cup was.

Emma had anticipated it, and before she knew it, her hands were over his, keeping the cup from spilling. Her damn heart had been pounding, and she cursed it. This wasn’t supposed to happen, it was such bullshit. She’d come to terms with the fact that she liked Paul a while back, but this? This was a betrayal. She was a grown woman, she could handle being asked out and a little physical contact without turning into a giggling schoolgirl. A thundering heart and rapidly warming cheeks were unacceptable.

Emma had reacted in the best way she could manage and drew her hands back, dropping them to her sides. Paul held his cup close, like it was something precious, and Emma nodded, though she suggested maybe a break from her workplace would be better. Paul pursed his lips and nodded, easily backtracking from his first suggestion. They’d settled on a movie, and that was that. It’d always been so simple for them from that point on. Conversation continued to flow freely, and the tension that Emma expected from a new relationship never showed itself.

They learned new things about each other every day, new ways that their methods of communicating could overlap or clash. Emma had to get used to his easy affection quickly, his tendency to press against her, his loving gaze, the way it seemed to be nothing to him to drop the casual ‘I love you’s. Of course, she wasn’t silent on the matter. She could say it back. It felt like closing her fist around her heart, pulling it free of her body and handing it to him. It felt like vulnerability . But she could say it. Showing her love with actions came much more naturally. Little favors, remembering things that he had a tendency to forget, asking him about his interests and listening to him tell her every little detail until she thought her ears would fall off, but enjoying every minute of it.

Paul was full of compliments, casually noting things that he loved about her. He wasn’t much for pet names, thank goodness, because Emma would have to draw a line if he started calling her sweetheart. He called her by her name, mostly. Or Em.

Emma called him by his name too, primarily. Or asshole. Dumbass. Motherfucker. Cocksucker. Babe, if she was feeling extraordinarily mushy. She didn’t think much of it, it was how she spoke to most people, and she was sure he knew that when she referred to him in those ways, it was with the love that she couldn’t express with any other words. Paul never seemed to react negatively. He responded to anything she called him. He knew her.

Still, it was a fairly new relationship, and Emma was struggling. She was sure she’d always struggle with her emotions, and especially, struggle with expressing them. Keeping up with Paul was a challenge, but she did her best. He deserved her very best.

Emma was worried about Paul. He loved Christmas, and she knew he’d rather be at home by the fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate. Instead, they had to go to his annual office Christmas party. Emma was already exhausted from the socializing, all the endless pointless chats. Emma simply couldn’t express just how little she cared about Ted’s holiday plans, or the trip to Barbados that Paul’s boss was planning. The bright lights were hurting her eyes, and Paul looked like he wanted to personally smash the speakers with a baseball bat. Was All I Want For Christmas is You playing for the second time, or was it just the songs blurring together? Paul was fidgeting with the ends of his red sweater endlessly, on the verge of fraying it past the point of return. Through her own stress, she could catch him fading out of the conversations, unable to focus. Once he started swallowing repeatedly, lifting his drink to his lips frequently in an attempt to hide it, Emma put her foot down. Fuck social obligation, this was miserable. She elbowed him in the side. He turned to face her, raising an eyebrow. “We should head home, it’s getting late.”

Paul took the cue and nodded. He turned back to Ted, who was rambling on about something or other, Emma hadn’t bothered to pay attention. She caught the word redhead and decided she’d rather stick to her own thoughts. Paul cut him off. “We’re going to head out now, I’ll see you soon, Ted.”

Ted smirked and winked. “Alright, you two have a nice night.” Neither of them dignified his implication with a response. Paul turned, heading towards the door.

“Hey, dumbass,” Emma said. Paul turned. “Coats? You planning on braving the walk to the car in just a sweater?”

Paul smiled sheepishly and made his way to the other room where their coats had been discarded. Emma was only waiting for a moment before a voice behind her drew her attention.

“That wasn’t very nice of you.” Emma turned. A woman with a festive red and green bow in hair was standing there, a glass of wine in her hand.

“I’m sorry?” Emma responded, still not entirely sure that the woman was talking to her. The woman… Charlotte! That was it. Paul had talked about her before. Charlotte looked like she regretted opening her mouth the moment Emma made eye contact, but she stiffened, steeling herself.

“I’ve known Paul for a long while, he’s a good friend of mine.” Guilt flooded Emma, she should have remembered Charlotte. “I don’t like the way you talk to him.”

Emma grew defensive. Sure, maybe Charlotte was a close friend of Paul’s, but who was she to tell Emma how their relationship should be? She hadn’t thought about her word choice until Charlotte brought it up, it had come naturally. Paul was used to it, it was fine. Wasn’t it? Emma was about to respond, but a hand squeezed her shoulder, then dropped down her side to close around her hand.

“You ready?” Paul said softly. He clearly hadn’t heard what Charlotte had said.

Emma was tired. It had been a long night, and she didn’t feel up to justifying her relationship to a woman she barely knew. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride home was silent, both of them recovering from the night. Emma watched the snow fall in the streetlights, the beauty contrasting the turmoil of her thoughts. Maybe Charlotte was right. She knew kindness wasn’t her strong suit, but she tried , at least with Paul. The words she used didn’t matter, the intent underneath them was clear. What if they weren’t, though? Social cues weren’t Paul’s strong suit, and he was always so forthcoming and frank with his words, and…

Emma wanted to groan. Great. She’d fucked everything up. Again. She knew she needed to apologize, have a genuine talk about it, but the thought alone made her feel sick. She combed through her words carefully the whole drive, and when they got inside, she closed the door a little harder than she should.

Paul got started with his evening routine, preparing for bed, and Emma wandered aimlessly, trying to put off the inevitable. She eventually made her way to his side in bed, and he subconsciously shifted to be closer to her as he read. Emma sat there and fidgeted, trying to get the nerve to start a conversation that she didn’t want to have. It would be rude to do it now, she thought. Not after he needed to wind down from the torture of the Christmas party. Or maybe it would be wrong to do so while he was reading, she knew he was enjoying that book. Excuses, excuses.

She took a deep breath. “Hey, I need to talk to you.” Paul looked up at her. “You know I don’t mean it, right?” She paused. Paul’s gaze darted away for a moment. She could see his brain processing, trying to figure out what the fuck she was talking about. “The names. Earlier this evening.” Great, right out of the gate and she’s already lost the ability to communicate in full sentences. Paul furrowed his brow. “I called you a dumbass.” Emma mumbled.

Paul was thoroughly concerned. He nodded slowly. “You do that fairly often, Em.”

Emma dropped her face into her hands in frustration. He was going to make her spell it out, then? “Yeah, and I’m sorry, alright? It’s not… Nice.” Her voice was muffled by her palms. She waited for a response, but she didn’t get one. Instead, a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling it away from her face. He twined his fingers with hers. Emma still couldn’t look at him.

“The first time I ever saw you, I was just trying out the new coffee shop down the road. As I was leaving, you called a customer an asshole for complaining about not getting whipped cream.”

Emma huffed. “He probably was an asshole.” Paul squeezed her hand.

“What I’m saying is that I know you, and I know the difference between a genuine insult from you and a pet name.”

At that, Emma whipped her head up. He was grinning at her, the motherfucker. “It’s not-”

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh, fuck. It is, isn’t it?” Emma grimaced, but relief was seeping through her bones.

Paul laughed, finally releasing her hand. He closed his book and placed it on the nightstand, switching his lamp off. He buried himself in his blankets and lay his head on the pillow, looking up at her and smiling softly.

The stress of the night followed by an equally stressful drive home finally caught up with Emma, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than unconsciousness. As she flicked the switch and plunged the room into darkness, she decided one more moment of painful vulnerability couldn’t hurt.

“Night. Love you.” She said, trying to force the meaning into the simple words.

“Good night, dumbass” Paul replied.

She laughed so hard that her sides hurt, and as she lay down, Paul pulled her close.

Emma wheezed a last giggle and let sleep take her, letting the anxiety of the day leave her, comfortable in Paul’s arms.

[shyperfectioncollectionme-blog]

Hello, all! 

Now I write a letter to the world, 

High school is over and done with. These last 4 years have left an indelible influence on my life. In the end, I was actually grateful for quite a few things I experienced.   The biggest thing I walk away with is now my present sense of self-worth.

It's easy to feel insecure in high school if it wasn't thousands of books, tv shows, and musicals wouldn't exist today.  I bore you with going my sob story about being bullied in high school because in some way or another we all have that story.  We were all are treated less than kindly by other students and we all did the same to each other. Part of that has to do with growing maturity levels and it doesn't help that we millennials were brought up in the information age.

After all the wrong and good I did, I realized that NOBODY is a professional at being human, normal, or respected. Whether or not you're the cutting edge of your peer group or just a shy autistic kid drawing alone in the lunch room; you are not a professional.  For four years I did everything I could in order to undo my image of being less than a loser. I failed more and more I soured in and out of cliques and social groups and nothing truly satisfied me. I cried and cried for things to change and nothing ever did. 

My senior year in high school, I finally did manage to make a change that I felt would make me the cool dude of my dreams. I got a job. I was a Bagger at a locally owned grocery store in town. This is was it, time to become awesome! I lasted one month. In the end, I called into work with a tear rolling down my face and gave a shaky excuse for why I couldn't keep coming in anymore. This was it, this was the thing that finally shattered my pursuit. I was broken inside, so like a miss-fitt toy, I sailed off to an uncharted island where nobody could find me.  I called this island my room. I locked myself inside and I was determined to stay there until the hurt was gone. 

When that would happen was anyone's guess, but graduation was fast approaching and I felt an urge that I gotta do something with my life. So I was prescribed some new medication and started attending a weekly therapy session. I figured since I'm such a screw-up I should do what all screw ups do, get help! In the beginning, I saw myself as the borderline mental patient, who was just reaching out for dear life.  But, I began to change in the most un-excepted ways!   

When I spoke to these doctors I felt something I never really had before self-worth. When I talked about my past traumas, my present insecurities, and my future hopes, they treated them like they had value. Like I have value. I would leave therapy sessions with an odd mixture of confusion and acceptance. Suddenly, I was just like everybody else made in the image of God beautiful, earnest, and just as capable of following my dreams as anyone else. But sooner or later a storm cloud would blow over my head again and I was right back to square one. Sh*t! 

This back and forth went on and on, until after graduation. When I finally held my diploma in hand a sort of invisible lightning bolt struck me on the side of the head and I finally realized what I had to do to be a happy person. Not a COOL person, but a HAPPY person. I had to marry myself. I was done dating me and decided to make an honest man out of myself and tye the knot. (I mean this figuratively!)    

For better or for worse I am who I am. As long as I try my best, I have no need to feel guilt or shame very long. I know I am a good person because of my actions and that doesn't change if I mess up because I said: "I DO." That means after every mess up, I dust myself off and keep going because I'm ok and I know the love I have for myself is not going to waiver. Because I can't lose my own being, can I? When I'm healthy I'm going to cheer myself on to keep going. When I'm sick, I'll play doctor until I'm back to health. I'll ask for help and doesn't make me less of a person, I'll talk openly and honestly about my autism as it is just a part of that makes more beautiful in the eyes of God. For better or for worse. I committed to myself until I meet my natural end! 

I know what your thinking. Another loser who is just proclaiming self-help as a way to fix all issues. We've all walked down the isle of self-help books and been confused by the jargon these people throw out. I am saying this as a human being. All things are transient, the world is cruel, and it goes by much too fast. So with these cruel facts of life as they are and not changing anytime soon. I say that if you lose everything else at one point or another if you stare up into the night sky and feel a void( as we all do) then making a commitment of love to the one thing you can't lose and the only thing you take into eternity: YOURSELF. 

Whether you believe you are worth it or not, you've all you got in the end. So take care of yourself. Love yourself as much as you can and do everyone else a favor by treating them as you like to be treated. You can't sacrifice others to yourself. If you do then your back on the road to self-destruction. Do the best you can, but the world is cruel. But as long as you love yourself you'll strive to the horizon. You'll get knocked down and know it's not always your fault then get back up.  You'll make personal changes to be a better person and it's not because of your a bad person. It's because you're a human being and you can attach a greater meaning to your life than just trying to pull yourself up by your boot straps and not mess up again(you will).  In short, you'll survive. 

Go to doctors and ask for help! They'll help you know and understand yourself and then you'll take care of yourself. Once you start taking care of yourself then you'll know truly at heart you are not a bad person. That you have the power to make decisions and decisions change your life and once you've changed your life you realize it can be almost anything you want it to be. You can be a happy person and you have the power to see the silver lining of any situattion.  This isn't permission to do others wrong, this is permission to give yourself the right you've all desired in life. The answer is YES to the question of can I survive as long as I love myself. But, you'll see as you change that now that you're married to yourself you know how to treat and care for others as human beings made in the image of God. So you'll reach out(at your own pace and find people that eventually suit you and help you grow. But in the end you only can rely on yourself, so make sure you've said: "I DO." 

SORRY, THIS IS SO LONG, I JUST GOT ON AN TANGENT AND THIS IS THE RESULT. IM NOT SAYING ALL OF THIS IS IS A PERFECT INTERPRETATION OF MY LIFE OR YOURS IT'S JUST THE BEST I GOT. I THINK MY FIRST POST SHOULD STATE MY CURRENT REFECTIONS ON HUMANITY. THIS POST IS ACTUALLY SHORT COMPARED TO ALL THE THINGS I COULD WRITE ABOUT BEING MARRIED TO SELF, BUT YOU REALLY WOULDN'T READ IT.  I AM NOT EVEN SO SURE HOW MANY PEOPLE WILL READ ALL OF THIS.  

Thank you all, you read this all the way through. I'll write again soon, about things probably not so personal.  I don't like being this candid so much. 

ByeBye!  

[the-heroic-changeling]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if this World Ends?

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

"What's Past is Prologue"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lurch.

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

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

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

Hiss. Hiss. Hiss.

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

Hiss.

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

Hiss.

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

Thump.

They had landed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Linkle meant that genuinely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Right," Mīfa nodded.

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

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

Buzz-Zap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What, what is happening?"

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

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

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

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

Chapter Three

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

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

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

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

Phew.

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

I began to dance.

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

Phew.

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

"Hello, Lunark?"

Phew.

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

"Why?"

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

"...You know magic?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"...What are you saying?"

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

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

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

"...Are you a priestess?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ya can do that?" He smiled wide.

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

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

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

"Aye."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Four

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

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

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

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

"Hi."

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

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

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

Splash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's not," the Rito pledged.

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

"Everyone needs sleep."

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

"Something wrong?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"—I want to."

"I want to too."

"Awesome."

"Yay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Linkle shuddered suddenly.

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

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

Chapter Five

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But then it's just semantics—"

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

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

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

"—Bad as them."

"—have to work inside the system."

"Maybe she will be reasonable—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lunark would not take a stand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you," Mīfa whispered.

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

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

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

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

"Heh. Heh heh heh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alone together."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello wee ones," he sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"...What does that mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Linkle quickly turned to Mīfa, who squeezed her shoulder. As she clutched Mīfa, the Zora asked the Goron, "What does Medli expect Linkle to do?"

"Um well," he glanced at Linkle's ever growing smile. Then he grinned warily, and laid his hand on her head and rustled her hair.

"I think da birdie expects ya to save us."

Linkle's hand danced across her compass's chain, her very fingers tingling with goosebumps. She shivered as she smiled, one hand on her love thing, the other clinging to Mīfa. She ... she could do things. She could save New Hyrule...

Chapter Six

...Linkle flapped her hands inside her thick thermal clothes, as she and Mīfa walked through the lunar surface. Her face was covered by her Dragon Scale, letting her lungs breath even in the barren wastes of the moon.

Mīfa signed suddenly, "Linkle do ... I've been thinking about what the Captain said? Do ... do you think I'm ... visible?"

"...Yes I can see you."

"No I mean do you think me being gay was ... obvious?"

"Oh no I was scared you won't like me like that. I mean I am not very good at reading people and I thought you might be interested, but I wasn't sure if I was just projecting. Why?"

"If ... if my family knew but ... if they knew I was gay, and they suspected New Hyrule was going to descend into this ... evil, if they knew that I would be at risk would ... would that be why they sent me up here, far away from politics."

"Isn't that good that they care?"

"Well yes but ... if they knew, if I was so easy to see, did everyone know? Were the Children of Hylia in particular watching me, plotting to kill me?"

Linkle offered her hand, and Mīfa squeezed it tight. "They won't hurt you, and won't let them," the Heroine promised.

There was silence, and then Mīfa pointed. In the distance sat a structure made of rock, a tiny grey thing that looked like it had been stabbed out of the surface.

They headed towards it in great leaps and launches of the Beetle Bracelet, and gradually Linkle recognized it as a hut summoned from the lunar stone. Closer they came until they spotted Medli, sitting along in the hut, her hands clutching her knees, her fingers rubbing against her kneecaps over and over.

"Hello?" Linkle sighed as Medli looked up. Medli smiled and stood up, before sweeping her wing in greeting.

"Come in," she offered, and the two followed her inside.

It was very empty, just a Spirit Radio and a collection of metal parts and goop. Some sculptures also filled the space, include a rock bed and a stone handheld harp. Medli tapped her foot done, and immediate the floor shifted to form rock mats.

Mīfa took the lead, signing, "we know you recognize Linkle."

"I am sorry."

"Why?"

"It felt selfish, and I felt like a stalker running right up to you right as you arrived. I have no excuse."

"...Have you been lonely?" Linkle asked, offering a smile.

"...That doesn't matter, it was still rude and I am sorry."

"Did you know Valoo?"

"I was his Attendant," she signed, smiling with her eyes drifting in memories, her head glazing over a little.

"Is ... is he truly dead?"

"...Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

Medli sat cross-legged across from the two of them, and rubbed her forehead, "I still feel him. I know in my heart my God still lives, still watching over my people. And I ... I have a connection to the divine."

"Can you hear him? Has he told you anything?"

"Fifty years ago I dreamt of him and my predecessor Laruto," Medli signed, "they urged me to go to New Dragon Roost, to protect the Moon City. So I came to do my duty."

"Do you see the prior Attendant much?" Linkle asked.

"Well um, no. Well, kinda. She was not the Attendant before me, she was the prior Sage of Earth, a Zora from before my people evolved. She became a ghost, and has mostly faded from the world, but I can still see her sometimes."

"Are you a ghost?"

"Yes. I possess this body through a special one-way Spirit Stone."

"Will you fade?"

"No," she laughed, "I will not die. I am too busy anyway."

"What do you do now?"

"Well right now I am trying to keep my distance so you don't get in trouble. But I am still making rounds to strengthen your home's foundation, and going to help unearth the dirty ice below the moon's surface."

"But what did you do in New Dragon Roost?"

"Oh, well my power comes from music, dance. So I would entertain the Rito, Fishmen, humans, and Bokoblins of the colony."

"I thought the Korok loved music?"

"They do, but most of them are not comfortable being so far from the Great Sea in a metal Lobster or being launched from a Space Cannon. So until we can find a way to warp Korok here to the domes, most of them decline to come."

"So," she gestured to the harp, "I play music and dance, and sometimes use a bit of my powers to make clouds of dust dance like an illusion."

"Do the Rito know you are the Sage of Earth?"

"I think most in New Dragon Roost suspect, especially since no new Sage has been chosen, and many of my songs are ancient prayers."

"Prayers?"

"The Sage of Earth and the Sage of Wind are destined to empower the Master Sword; the divine sword the Hero of Winds used to kill Ganondorf. When I pray, I am strengthening the Master Sword."

"But, the Master Sword was lost," Mīfa signed frantically, "do ... so you know where it is? Is it on the moon?"

"The Master Sword was left sealed inside Ganondorf's skull, permanently wedged into his head and turning him into lifeless stone," Medli said softly, "the Rito used to make a pilgrimage there, though it was since lost."

"But if it's sheathed in rock, why keep empowering it?" Linkle offered.

"...I fear Ganondorf may still live inside his petrified form. From what I have seen in visions he is an incarnation of a forgotten God, older than Old Hyrule and the equal to Hylia. He has escaped his seal before too, the Hero of Winds was not the first Hero, just as the Hero reincarnated so does Ganondorf. I worry if I do not regularly empower the Master Sword, or if it is removed or even rusted till it snaps, his spirit will be unleashed."

"Could it have happened already?"

"...My people know other Timelines, other versions of the World Below. In some, Ganondorf possesses the Queen of Hyrule."

"Hilda?"

"It might give her too much credit. But it is possible. And my people fear it too."

"What will they do if war is declared?"

"Reduce New Hyrule to the Stone Age," Medli closed her eyes, her hand quaking. Linkle grasped it, and she squeezed him tight. In that moment he could swear he saw her synethic eyes wrinkle and age.

"Could ... could your people do that?" Mīfa asked frantically.

"The Great Sea is home to many sea monsters, some almost common. To ... to lower their numbers to not overwhelm the oceans we ... we developed a weapon, the EM Bomb. It uses a carefully harvested Chu Chu battery to send a shockwave of electricity and magnetism for fifty feet. I-i-i-it fries everything alive, cooks them. And everything mechanical becomes deformed."

"...Fifty feet?" Mīfa leaned into Linkle.

"They are monstrous. In our vote, some of us suggested to engineer bigger more destructive ones, ones th-th-that could level whole New Hyrulean cities."

"Who? Bokoblins?"

"What does it matter? It passed, and a motion doesn't pass without Rito support," she dug into Linkle's hand, trying to draw strength from her squeezing.

"They ... they would use these EM Bombs on people?"

"Yes." Linkle realized that if Medli's body could cry, she would be sobbing right now.

"Lunark too?"

"No I ... some of us managed to convince the RotGS that attacking Lunark would be monstrous, it was a scientist expedition, it was mostly civilians, it was helpless against normal bombs, kept alone EM Bombs. And thankfully, New Dragon Roost and our faction of the Sea of Satellites ruled we would not support any attack on your colony or your satellites."

"They can do that?"

"We are not in the Great Sea, we are not completely bound by its laws. We have some self governance, and the bulk of us voted that we would not harm you. I ... It is not enough. The Sea would still have to bomb New Hyrule."

"How will they use the Em Bombs, I know you can be specific with usage."

"If New Hyrule launches a state sponsored attack, whether or not it is an official declaration of war, then  the Republic has decried it will drop EM Bombs. They ... we still only have the kind for facing Big Octos, but for the past hour or so my people have been designing newer versions, and I fear they may have some being built."

"Already?"

"My people are very quick. And I fear some designs were already dreamed up long ago, perhaps from when the Demon King briefly usurped the Zelda of that era."

"You were going to invade?"

"It has always been hard for me to tell what our goals were then. But I fear yes."

"You need to come with us back in Lunark right now," Linkle pulled Medli to her feet, "Marlon and the others need to know this right now!"

"You sure—" Mīfa began as Linkle pulled her upright too.

"Yes, they have to know what they are facing. Captain Marlon does not know."

"It won't be the best encouragement to secede."

"New Dragon Roost isn't really a part of the Republic of the Great Sea, neutrality and allying with them isn't seceding to the RotGS."

"It's a bit of a technicality—"

"Come on!" Linkle wrapped her arm around Mīfa, and launching into the air, soaring across the lunar surface. As they soared she glanced back, Medli had shot herself out of a rock catapult, and now was gliding above them.

Linkle couldn't explain it, but she knew she had to get back to Lunark right now. Because she just felt in her heart that if she did, everything would turn out okay. And the quicker she got there, the better things would be. She knew it.

Chapter Seven

The first thing Linkle spotted was the sweeping beam, reflected off into the moon's sky. It soared at an angle into the air, before dissipating from the sheer distance. Linkle froze as she saw the energetic beam, her blood running cold. It was ... it was the light of a Guardian's beam.

Linkle suddenly felt Mīfa squeezing her hand and shaking her shoulder. Linkle gasped wordlessly, Medli had flown ahead, gliding with all speed. The Heroine swallowed, and fired her beetle, latching onto Medli's leg. With a burst of magnetism Linkle and her girlfriend weee hurled after Medli, tumbling after her as she flew.

Finally the pair caught up, latching to Medli's leg. Linkle released, and from this high angle she fired, latching onto a roof of Lunark. Then with in a rush she and Mīfa were flung forward, tumbling into the expanse of Lunark.

As Linkle pulled herself up she saw a chunk of tan rock. She fell backwards, clutching at her mouth, trying not to gag. It was ... it was a patch of Goron hide.

Mīfa pulled on her, and Linkle stumbled upright. The Heroine shook her head and ran, racing towards were the beam emanated from. As they drew closer the beam sputtered and shook, sweeping about unevenly.

As they ran up Medli was dancing, drawing earth and rock from the lunar surface. The stone rose up like spikes, piercing into the gut of the Guardian. The Octorock like beast staggered on its many tentacles, aiming its beam at her. But she only danced, blocking the beam with a wall of rock. A rock cage surrounded the remotely controlled machine, cutting off its attacks from landing.

"Linkle, Mīfa," Medli signed in a brief pause, "you need to hurry. All your drones have turned on the camp, and are trying to kill your people, or at least the non Hylian ones. I can keep the Guardian busy, but Gorogroose was wounded reflecting the drone's attacks. I got here as he fell."

"What ... what can I do?"

"Find the Weldos I brought you, you should know how to program it. Have it target the drones, its laser is hot enough to weld metal, it could melt the drones still. As it does that protect your people. Mīfa, can you watch over Gorogroose?" She gestured beside her, were Gorogroose lay slumped over, his body ruptured by the beam of the Guardian. Mīfa nodded, and raced over to the Goron.

"Linkle, I trust you," Medli urged, summoning a spike through the Guardian's base. Linkle nodded, and ran towards the drone worship. That was where Linkle had left the Weldos, and no one really touched it but her.

As she ran a drone scuttled around her, chasing after her on its assortment of tentacles. It leapt from roof to roof, gaining on her. Linkle swallowed, and summoned her shield from her left bracelet.

As the drone leapt she twirled on her heel, letting the machine slam against her magnetic shield. it impacted the small collapsible shield, before being hurled off and smashed into a capsule. Linkle resumed running, as the drone collapsed.

Linkle dove into the airlock, stomping her feet as air hissed around her. Her hands jittered, before she began to run through the maze of tubes, she was close to the...

She stopped, spying a good seventeen Hylians all hiding in the workshop - Gorogroose and her workshop! She shook in rage, marching up to them, specifically to Spensal

"Ah Linkle I was wondering—" she punched him in the genitals, forcing him to slump over."

"Hey, we don't need more violence—"

"More!" She verbally shouted, making all of them flinch. Her hands shook, and she began to sign.

"People are dying out there, people - your colleagues and your fellow colonists are being slaughtered - and you are hiding in the shadows just letting them try to survive?" Her hands were a blur, signing.

"They ... they shouldn't have voted—"

"So they deserve to die?" She signed in a flurry of movement, "I saw a chunk of Gorogroose's skin fried off his body like a chipped geode. He was mutilated!"

"We ... we can't just rebel, if ... they will—"

"Turn on you?" Linkle signed slow and deliberate, "you know, Hylians love to talk about how progressive they are. 'Oh if I had been there in the time of the Hero of Steam, I would have helped him infiltrate the castle. I would have protested the enslavement of Bulblins. I would have hid my neighbors from Ganondorf. I would have been a good ally.' Will the time to be a good is now, and you all hide!"

"..."

"You would have allied with Ganondorf," Linkle signed, "you would have sided with him to save your own necks, no matter how many people had died. You think you are progressive allies, when push comes to shove you would only be collaborators."

She swerved on her heel, plucking up the Weldos. She pulled out her Sheikah Warparty knife, and began to screw and adjust it, tweaking it silently in the darkness.

Finally she released the canister, and it transformed, wings expanding from it, growing a vaguely avian head. It flew off, leaving Linkle and the collaborators alone.

"What is that gonna—"

Linkle walked away, building up speed to run through the passages of Lunark. She knew where she needed to head now.

She burst by the pool, the waters red. A Zora - Gluggle - stood in the water, her hands shaking and her body cut up. In her hands was a spyglass, dented and bent. In front of her was two drones, their bodies snapping.

Linkle immediately fired her beetle, smacking it between the drones. As the magnetize pulled her forward she swung her shield, crushing one of the drones under her defensive tool. She immediately turned and thrust her shield, knocking the machine across the water.

"Th-th-thank you Linkle," Gluggle cried, dropping her spyglass club, "I ... I thought that was it. Is ... is Mīfa okay?"

Linkle nodded and signed, "Medli is with her, and Medli is taking on the Guardian, she has access to divine magic. She can keep her safe."

" Are ... are you sure?"

"I love Mīfa, I would not leave her there if I thought she was unsafe. Are the eggs safe?"

"A cluster of them were ripped apart. One of two of those might live but they would be deformed. The other two clusters survived I ... I got there in time. But Puffafis..." she trailed off, and Linkle dove in the water besides her.

Linkle laid her hand against Gluggle's hand, squeezing her webbed fingers. The Zora squeezed back, her eyes welling.

Finally Linkle released, "I programmed the Weldos to fry the drones. It can fly and fire long range, it should be able to destroy the weaker drones, Medli believes so."

"But there are so many."

"I know," Linkle swallowed, then offered a soft smile, "but I ... I think we can win. I ... I have to believe it. Medli is powerful, I trust her."

Gluggle nodded, and dove underwater. She soon dragged up her spyglass, her hands quaking but ready to protect her race's future.

"...the Sheikah, do you know where they are?"

"They ... I think two of them were killed immediately with Puffafis. Captain Marlon rallied four of the Hylians and the other Sheikah to try to destroy the drones, while Gorogroose helped them escape the Guardian. I ... I feel like a coward—"

"You saved your people's future, that is not cowardice," Linkle promised, "can you handle being alone for a moment? I am going to try to find the twelve of them and lead them here."

"You ... you swear you will come back?"

"If I die I swear on the Golden Goddesses and Hylia that my ghost will guard you, Mīfa, and the eggs," Linkle pledged, crouching onto her knee.

Gluggle's eyes welled and she whispered, "hurry back." Linkle nodded, and began to run to an airlock.

As she dove out she hooked the roof with her beetle, hurling herself into the air. As she rose above the moon's surface, she spied them. Eight Sheikah and Hylians, fighting with an assortment of wrenches and hammers. Linkle hook the ground in front of them, and launched herself at them.

With a slam she hit the ground, smashing a drone with her shield. Immediately she fired her beetle, smashing it through the torso of a drone. It tugged her behind it, before she bashed another drone into shards.

"Linkle," a Sheikah said. Her name was Impa, she was built like a train, her legs like pumping pistons, "you made it back? Are you the one who sent the Weldos?"

She pointed in the sky, where the Weldos was firing a constant beam into a group of drones, shredding them in great sweeps.

Linkle nodded, "are ... are you—"

"We are the only ones standing besides those ------- cowards," Impa spat over the radio, "glad to know you are there for us Linkle, you have saved our lives."

Linkle smiled, then shook her head. Focus. "Gluggle needs your help. She's protecting her people's eggs but—"

"Blast it, how could I think she was hiding?" Impa cursed, "of course she was protecting the future— we are one our way."

"If you can spare someone, Gorogroose is down but I think he is alive. Mīfa is Guardian him. If you could help us haul him inside—"

"He lives? How I—" Impa clutched Linkle's wrists, "he ... how?"

"Medli arrived, she is using her magic to destroy the Guardian."

"Marlon told me as she fell," Impa said, "she's a Sage huh?"

Linkle nodded and Impa smiled, "glad to have you here, Heroine of the Moon. You have saved us all."

The Heroine blushed, her eyes wide, before Impa pointed to a Sheikah with a large monk tattoo under his space suit. "Oman, follow Linkle to Gorogroose. We are not leaving one of our to die. The rest of us are after Gluggle."

"Of course," he bowed, before Linkle led him across the rocky terrain. As they reach a capsule Linkle grabbed the monk's hand, and fired her beetle onto the top. The two of them launched into the air, before drifting down besides Mīfa.

"Linkle, I heard Impa over the radio," she said, embracing her, "the eggs are safe?" Linkle nodded firmly, while the monk crouched down over Gorogroose. He tore off bits of his own suit, using them to bandage the massive Goron.

"Help Medli," urged Mīfa, "the Guardian is mostly destroyed but..."

She trailed off, and Linkle looked after her eyes. In the sky was a massive mechanical ship, with two large pincers on its front. Linkle recognized it as a Lobster, one of the ships the Rito used to carry goods and supplies.

The Lobster's cargo hold opened, before twelve Rito swooped down, all dressed in heavily armored suits. The suits were orange, red, yellow, and with green wings, and looked like they were forged of metal. They slammed down, slicing the Guardians with their wings. The mechanical thing sliced up and broke from their cuts, as some of the Rito split off.

"Medli?" A Rito walked up, signing to the small Rito. She curtseyed low, as he kneeled.

"My name is Shetawk of the cargo ship Crustacean Wings. We crew spied the beams reflected into the sky. Are there still survivors?"

Linkle nodded and Medli added, "yes. Can you please help the Goron? I know you do not have medical supplies but—"

"I will help carry him aboard while my crew cleans up the rest of the job. Thank you Medli, you have done us proud."

"I barely did anything," she shook her head, pointing to Linkle, "this is the Heroine."

"Truly?" He walked to her, before crouching onto one knee, "thank you Heroine, you have saved many lives."

Linkle nodded as he continued, "New Dragon Roost has currently seceded from the RotGS in response to the EM Bombs being approved. We can help you as much as we can."

"Is the Great Sea upset?" Mīfa asked over the radio.

"They are a bit busy, New Hyrule has launched an attack, and they are moving to destroy their rivals," Shetawk tensed up, "I swear my crew will help you as much as we can."

Linkle nodded slowly and signed, "I am not in charge, I guess that would be Impa. But I ... we will need all the help we can get." As Shetawk nodded she saw a thump, as the Guardian collapsed dead.

Epilogue

"Still just static?" I asked. Linkle stood besides me, her hand squeezing Queen Mīfa. The pair of them had been busy try to keep New Skyloft afloat, we all had. Weldos were still sealing up torn open holes in the hulls of the base former called Lunark, and Rito and Bokoblins were still shipping ore.

The drones had been salvaged for parts, and two had been repaired, their Spirit Stones reconnected to some stones salvaged from their fellow machines remains.

Shetawk put down the long range Spirit Radio and nodded, "I just checked in with the rest of us again. Contact with New Dragon Roost is still easy enough, same with some of the outer satellites. But the bulk of the Sea, New Hyrule, every Lobster close below, and the Great Sea; there is nothing."

"It can't be just the EM Bombs can it?" I said softly.

The Captain rubbed his forehead, "the magnetic storm covering the planet is ... I don't know enough about the bombs none of us do. But ... to scale them so much — and the Great Sea is nowhere near New Hyrule, there is an ocean between."

"Do we ... do we know if any of them are alive?" Linkle signed.

"We do not know. The Satellites we still have contact with are sending us maps of the World Below, we can supply them with repairs and food indefinitely. From what we can see thick storm clouds have completely blanketed the World Below. We are completely cut off."

"A Dark World," whispered Mīfa.

"...I could projectile below," I whispered.

"I know," Shetawk said, "but not now. If your warning is true and an incarnation of Ganon is behind this Calamity, then we cannot risk you."

"I cannot die."

"But you can feel pain, whether it is grief or horror; we cannot ask of you to descend where our Lobsters would not. One day we will ask of you to descend, but it will be generations from now. And by then, our Lobsters may have enough defenses to reach the depths."

"...I could brave—"

Queen Mīfa shook her head, "we aren't ready. If ... if Ganon is awakened in this Dark World, we can't have him turning towards us. Not until we are ready."

"...I am sorry the Lesser Sea is saltwater," I offered my hand to Mīfa's shoulder. She accepted it, but she still smiled.

"My family was wise, sending eggs from so many families. There is still hope."

"They have grown so big," I grinned in turn. The tadpoles were still far smaller than a Zora, but they were beginning to grow their limbs, they were maturing, and Mīfa and Gluggle were good teachers. Linkle helped too, but she also have over work to do."

Linkle now wore a green hooded tunic when she was indoors, with a pair of red shorts underneath. Hair hair was short, save for a few braids that flowed besides her neck.

She also wore a pair of iron boots. After studying Rito tech for a few months, she had beautifully crafted these boots to release shockwaves of magnetism, letting her walk on any metal surface and to kick away meteorites.

Linkle saw my gaze and signed, "thank you for your teachings."

"Oh I just knew the basics, you made it your own," I shrugged, "and Impa is still okay with us sending teachers. I know some Hylians were wary."

"Screw those cowards," Linkle signed, "we need knowledge if we are to survive on the moon, not just supplies and repairs ... what are you calling your new nation?"

"I-it's mostly the old one," I swallowed, "There are some suggestions for names but nothing firm. I ... are you sure you don't think I should check?"

"Ganondorf would kill us easily. I know you fear for your people, especially the Korok, but  please just wait."

I ... I feared so much had been lost. Maybe there would still be survivors below the storms, I prayed they were. But I ... I knew their lives would be hard, hard and filled with dangers, away from sun. A magnetic winter had descended over the world, and there was no way to rescue them.

"I worry 'the Dark World' as you call it will suffer a dark age, without stable sunlight and contact of the stars, and with all the destruction we know happened, I fear almost all knowledge will be lost," Shetawk whispered, "worse than after the Great Flood."

"Do you think they will remember the moon was colonized? That we still exist?"

"I would be surprised if they remembered the Golden Goddesses," Shetawk admitted.

I shuddered, and Linkle offered me her hand. I took it, and gave her a squeeze. "We are alive, there is still hope. Now the war is survival, enduring Nd resisting the cold. And I ... I know we can do it."

[alt-ctrl-delete-f1]

*~*~OBLIGATORY TRIGGER WARNING~*~*

Listen, things are about to get messy so strap in. I’m going to cuss, I’m going to talk about frustrating, horrible, terrible, sad sad sad things. (Tags below) If you are struggling or feeling particularly fragile right now, please don’t read on, if you can’t. But this is true. And I’m writing it for two purposes:

1.    I need to. The story I’m about to tell is 100% true. And it 100% happened in MY life. This is cathartic for me because I’m at a point where if I don’t get it all out, I might actually explode in a glittery display of thoughts, feelings and fragments of sanity.

2.    If one single person reads this and realizes the permanence of choices, my work here is done. So I’m talking to you. The you who is nearly “there.” The you who is so exhausted and weary and tired and ready to just be done. The you who is desperately searching for one damn thing to hang on to. You may find it here.

As always, if you want to reach out, please message me privately. Please ask questions. Please comment, if you feel moved to do so.

And if you read no further, please know this: you are loved, you are worthy, you are special, you are beautiful, you are strong, you are amazing. I want you here. I want you to be your best you.

Ok, now seriously, I’m about to start.

Last chance.

[Soundtrack:]

Creep by Radiohead

Key lyric: “I wish I was special… but I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…”

Pieces by Sum 41

Key lyric: “This place is so empty; my thoughts are so tempting I don’t know how it got so bad…”

Sail by Awolnation

Key lyric: “Maybe I should cry for help, maybe I should kill myself, I blame it on my ADD, baby…”

Believe in Dreams by Flyleaf

Key lyric: “We laugh about the past, but secretly wish we could go back and save the child…”

Unsteady by X Ambassadors

Key Lyric: “If you love me, don’t let go…”

Prologue:

Unlucky

________________________________________________________

On Friday, April 13, 2018 at 1735, my twenty-year-old brother sent three text messages within the span of one minute. All three messages read, “I love you.”

One was to his girlfriend. She was sleeping (read: not actually sleeping) with a guy who was not my brother. She never responded.

One was to his estranged father. He, as usual, couldn’t be bothered. He never responded.

One was to our mother. She had just been released from the hospital in Toledo and was driving Lyft in the area in an effort to recoup lost wages from her hospital stay. She could not view her messages for nearly an hour. At approximately 1820, she responded and said “I love you too. Are you ok?”

My brother never responded.

He took out his composition notebook. The notebook where he’d listed appointments with his probation officer, things to do, errands to run. The same notebook where he’d written notes to himself asking,

“Why do you push everyone away? You have no family left, no friends left. You are a failure.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Why can’t you just stop it already?”

He scribbled a heartfelt note to his girlfriend and a single, half-hearted sentence to a broader audience and left the notebook open on the dresser then searched his messy one bedroom apartment and found his yellow karate belt.

He set his phone on one of the shelves in his closet and climbed up on the next one. He wrapped the belt around a hook that was about seven feet high and by 1800, his heart stopped beating forever.

Forever.

In the days and weeks that followed his suicide, myself, my sister and my mother would learn many things. Some things we can’t get out of our heads. And others, we can’t seem to place. As though our collective brains are protecting us from a heartfelt acknowledgement of this ugly truth.

Personally, I learned that on average, it takes roughly 3-6 minutes to die by hanging. And that when a six-foot-two-inch man-child hangs himself against a wall in his closet, it looks like he’s hiding from his girlfriend to jump out and scare her. The dim morning light casts just enough shadow that you can’t see that his feet are actually six inches off the ground.

Did you know that for me, knowing that there was a shelf less than six inches from his right foot only solidifies to me that he was 100% comfortable in his decision to die – and thatfact makes me feel all the feels and absolutely numb at the same time?

Or that going through your dead brothers Facebook messages and seeing how many people he tried to contact, with absolutely no success was physically painful? And knowing that he didn’t reach out to you fills you with the most dreadful sense of relief ever – EVER– felt? Because you know that you were busy teaching your two-year-old to sing the ABC’s and your phone was off so you could focus on your toddler and that not having a missed message from your suicidal brother actually makes it easier, in a way?

And that you can hate yourself for feeling any kind of relief in this situation ever?

There was something inside of my brother that was broken.

He was born with a congenital heart defect – a truly broken heart. By the age of four, he’d had more open heart surgeries than he’d had birthdays. He was on the ventilator on and off for pretty much the first two years of his life (read: oxygen deprivation).

When he was three, my mother and my brother’s father had another baby boy. He was born prematurely and survived for 99 days, never leaving the hospital. This effected Caleb deeply. Deeply. To me, it was two-fold. Caleb operated on a different plane than other people. He truly feltthe loss of Baby Cole. This is interesting because he was so young. Then there was the life that followed. You know, the one that is on the right-hand side of the chart you make when you see a therapist and map out your life.

The “After.”

“After” the event that rocked everything we knew. When Caleb’s dad left and mom became addicted and suicidal. When I started cutting myself and my sister retreated into a fantasy world and our house was decrepit and CPS got called. When everybody’s grades dropped and mom didn’t get out of bed and the curtains never got opened because sunlight physically hurt my mom.

By the age of five, Caleb was committed to the pediatric psychiatric ward for the first time. I didn’t even know they admitted children that young.

The first time he tried to commit suicide, he wrapped his belt around his neck and pulled until he blacked out. The only reason he lived past that moment is when he blacked out, his hand relaxed and he couldn’t put tension on the belt anymore.

By age 10, he was in a pretty serious car accident and suffered frontal lobe damage, effecting his impulse control and mood control.

He spent countless time in live-in facilities for youth, psych wards, JDC, cop cars, grown-up jail, hospitals, psychologist offices, psychiatrist offices, youth pastor offices, senior pastor offices. He was in early intervention, had an individual education plan. He was on and off meds including Abilify (an a-typical antipsychotic, and actually he had some of the most success with it), seizure meds, antidepressants, mood stabilizers. Some worked, some didn’t. Sometimes they didn’t work because he didn’t take them and sometimes they didn’t work because they weren’t right.

There were diagnoses of ADD, ADHD, Mood Disorder (NOS). The list went on and on.

In his early teens, he was tentatively diagnosed with Asperger’s, effectively the last of many that never quite fit. It still wasn’t a perfect answer, as he didn’t even truly fit the mold for that, but the treatments that worked for him fell in line with similar treatments for people on the spectrum.

He attended high school at the Center for Autism and Dyslexia, a year round school owned and operated by an amazing woman who seriously spent her life understanding the mind of the Autistic/Asperger’s/Dyslexic child – and formed education plans the help them succeed. Indeed, that school was a light in a dark time for my brother. He’d just come from public school where he was nearly expelled. What for, you ask. Not necessarily for being unruly. But my brother was a protector at heart. So if he or someone he loved was being bullied, he charged like an angry bull seeing red. He graduated, likely by the skin of his teeth.

But these are just his stats.

They don’t tell you truly who he was. They don’t tell you about how Caleb flew into rages. How, seven years my junior, he beat me to the floor with a vacuum cleaner cord once because mom wasn’t home and we didn’t have a lot of food and one box of Kraft Macaroni and cheese doesn’t adequately feed three growing kids and he was hungry. Or how he used to crawl into bed with me in the middle of the night because he felt bugs on him all the time and it scared him.

They don’t tell you about how once we woke up and found him in his bed covered in what looked like a really unhealthy amount of poop but upon further investigation turned out to really be Swiss cake rolls. How he made us laugh with ridiculous jokes. These stats don’t tell you how he fought his nature in the most heroic way I’ve ever seen, trying to seek and maintain a relationship with Christ. They don’t tell you about how he asked Jesus into his heart, or how two weeks later he walked into the living room and told my mom he didn’t know if he believed in God because he prayed every night for God to make him stop being such a disappointment and every day, he disappointed everyone all over again.

Caleb’s finger nails looked like he’d taken them to eighty grit sandpaper. He was particular about clothes because finding something that didn’t make his skin crawl was a challenge. He was a cat person. He loved real-cam anything and to hunt and fish and shoot. He once made a toy pistol out of PVC pipe and before he would even hold it by the “handle,” he made me buy the brightest neon orange spray paint, so nobody would think he had a real gun.He didn’t want to scare anyone.

He wanted to be a special education teacher, because for all his faults, he felt deeplyfor people. He would sob upon seeing a homeless person. He once stopped - without a coat - in a frigid Ohio snow storm to help two women with a flat tire. He saved countless animals. He built incredible things with Legos.

He was impulsive and loud and incredible and hilarious and sometimes, he was even mean. He was a God damn hurricane, complete with flying furniture, flooding tears and an aftermath that rivaled Noah’s rainbow.

And you know what? I would rather have him running up my cable bill, buying porn and stealing my change to buy me a damn gift than be left with pictures of a bare bulb in a closet and memories that will neverbe enough.

Because for all the things that I saw in him, Caleb, well, didn’t.

He wasn’t good enough.

Not good enough for his father to stay, for his girlfriend to love, for our brother to live, for his brain to work right. He wasn’t good enough for his youth pastor to help or for therapy or meds or jail to work. He didn’t just slip through the cracks, he was sometimes shoved into them by the very people who now stand at a pulpit or podium and tell people to bring their troubles to them.

And frankly, I don’t know that Caleb could ever feel our love. And because of that, you couldn’t experience Caleb (because he truly was an experience) and think that his behavior ever indicated how he actually felt about you. He treated his family like crap sometimes and he treated his enemies with respect and showed them love. But can you imagine what it’s like to not truly understand love? He was – for lack of a more appropriate term – frustrated, his entire twenty years.

And he was pissed off. And scared. And tired.

And on April 13th, my brother left this world the same way he entered it – heartbroken.

_______________________________________________________

If I could ask a favor: just take a second and say my brother’s name out loud. His name is Caleb. Please whisper it, yell it, say it in pig-latin. I don’t care. Just for a second, remember him for me.

Now do the same for yourself. That is your name. It is a single word that ineffectively, yet poignantly sums up your life experiences and who you are. Someone may have your name, but nobody has your life. Comment your name, and I’ll say it too. Nobody should be forgotten, dead or alive.

This is the part where I would tell you that if you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts and tendencies, please contact the Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-8255 and also link you to their website, and tell you that you can also text them at 741741if that’s your preferred method of communication. And obviously, I just did all that.

But I’ll also tell you this, I get it. Talking to a stranger is comforting to some and seems like an easy pass-off for others. On the one hand, knowing a stranger will never see your face and that you can spill your deep, dark secrets and obtain some semblance of unity with them can be comforting. Personally, it makes me mad because I don’t want to talk to a stranger. I want to talk to someone who knows me. But everybody has a preference.

But you can message me, and I WILL message you back. I know I’m not much different than someone on the end of the phone, except maybe far less qualified, but maybe we won’t be strangers when it’s all said and done.

I, however, am in no way a mental health professional. Talking helps, but there is also a time when you have to seek professional help. The links above take you to the direct websites where you can seek out help and resources in your area.

Tune in soon for Chapter 1, if you’re so inclined.

[enzaime-blog]

Jake’s Struggling Story from Autism

New Story has been published on http://enzaime.com/jakes-struggling-story-autism/

Jake’s Struggling Story from Autism

As the alarm rings, Jake awakes from his deep sleep, and thinks to himself, “It’s just too early to get up, I just need 10 more minutes.”  Like most teenagers, Jake rolls over, hits the snooze button, and goes back to sleep.  Thirty minutes later, Jake reluctantly rolls out of bed, hops into the shower, and gets ready for the day.  After a quick breakfast, Jake is off to school.  As he leaves the house, his mother tells him that he needs to come directly home after school because he has sailing practice.  He hops on his bike and rides to Nobel Middle School.

Walking through the halls, Jake can only think about all the great things that the summer will bring — there is the family vacation to Washington DC, riding his bike with his friends, swimming at the beach, Jr. Guards and his favorite activity, sailing.  As Jake continues to walk through the halls, he spots a group of his closest friends, and decides to join them before math class begins.  The conversation is the same as on all other days — talking about the latest movies, which teachers they currently don’t like, which girls they think are cute, and summer plans.  As Jake is talking, another alarm rings, only this one tells him that he must hurry up and get to class.  Over the next six hours Jake goes to and from class.  Jake is in the GATE program and begins by going to math, then science, history, orchestra class, where he plays the clarinet, and finally football.  While in class, Jake is usually paying attention to the teacher, but there are times when he daydreams instead.

When the final bell rings, indicating that school is over, Jake races home for a quick snack and then is off to sailing practice.  The rest of the night is filled with his regular routine — come home from practice, do homework, a family dinner, and then play video games, sometimes with his younger brother, Nick.

Jake’s story is like so many other eighth grade boys.  However, Jake is not like any average teenager.  When Jake was four years old, he was diagnosed with Autistic Disorder (DSM IV-299.00).  Fortunately for Jake and his family, he has been able to achieve what many people would consider a miracle.  It is what researchers have described as obtaining “best outcome” which is defined as not needing supports at school and being indistinguishable to his peers, his teachers, and others in the community.  And most importantly Jake is happy!  He is excelling at school, has a good group of friends and has a bright outlook for the future.  Though Jake has reached “best outcome” status, his path has not been easy.  It has taken a great deal of hard work from professionals, from his parents, and most importantly, from Jake himself.  This is Jake’s story.

The Journey Starts

The initial focus of therapy was to reduce Jake’s ritualistic play while expanding his language skills.  If we were able to increase his appropriate play skills and language, it would facilitate his socialization skills.  Obviously, we would be addressing those behaviors that greatly interfered with developing friendships as well as those that interfered with learning.  Therapists would play Jake’s favorite games but gradually they would change the way they played.  For example, they varied what color piece they used, who started and even some of the rules.  Continuously, therapists insisted that he use more language, facilitating his spontaneous comments as well as asking questions.  Early success occurred with intervention as Jake started to communicate more appropriately and engaged in less ritualistic behaviors.

Though success was initially seen, therapy also revealed additional skills that needed intervention.  For example, Jake was extremely competitive and would exhibit tantrum behaviors any time he lost.  Jake also became more and more non-compliant with his therapists and his parents, often refusing to participate in therapy or follow requests from his mother.  Intervention was implemented to address these issues. For example, Jake received his favorite reinforcers when he graciously lost.  He was also reinforced for compliance but would lose his turn when he didn’t follow instructions.  We also began a frustration tolerance program to help address his intolerance to losing, with the eventual goal of teaching him coping skills.  His competitiveness was simply creating social problems and therefore we felt we needed to address it directly.  But the biggest concern was starting to become apparent. Jake was a bundle of emotions.  He appeared to be angry and sometimes a very sad little boy.

Years Two & Three

The next two years of therapy had many up and downs for Jake, his parents, and his therapists.  There were wonderful successes but these were tempered with emerging behavioral challenges.  Although his language was exploding and it was extremely clear that he was bright, it also became clear that it was critical to even more directly address his disruptive behaviors.  Jake’s non-compliance and attempts to “control the world” were greatly hindering therapy and certainly the development of friendships.  Although Jake had outstanding skills, as long as he continued to refuse to listen and withdraw from peers it really didn’t matter!

Teaching Jake to become a better listener became a prime objective. To accomplish this goal a compliance hierarchy was established.  Instructions were assigned to one of three categories: those with the highest probability of compliance; those Jake would follow sometime; and those to which he would rarely respond.  If Jake complied with any instruction he received a great deal of reinforcement.  However, if Jake did not follow directions, staff would remain neutral and he would lose the opportunity to receive reinforcement.

This intervention resulted in drastic improvements. We then expanded the frustration tolerance program.  Initially, we taught Jake to recognize when he was feeling angry versus happy.  We believed that if Jake could become better at identifying his emotions he would be more able to cope with his frustration.  At the same time we taught him to use guided imagery when he felt mad.  Jake learned to think of his favorite cartoon character as soon as he started feeling the least amount of anger.  The enjoyment he felt by imagining his favorite character had the effect of reducing his anger.  Eventually the situations that triggered frustration were greatly reduced.

We also implemented an extensive play program to reduce his obsession with Star Wars (e.g., perseverating on the topic, insisting on only playing with Star Wars figures).  We believed by expanding his play interests and building new passions we would reduce his intense interest in Star Wars.  We picked interests that other boys his age demonstrated.  So soccer and baseball became our focus.  We hoped that this would facilitate the development of social relationships.  We more directly addressed his social development by increasing his skills in paying attention to his peers, following their lead and joining in on conversations.

Kindergarten brought on new challenges, new behaviors, and big changes for Jake.  The first issue that had to be resolved was whether support staff should go to school with Jake to help ensure success.  Although Jake had made tremendous gains and was rapidly approaching becoming indistinguishable, it was feared that inattention and noncompliance might again creep in and eventually set him apart.  Moreover, his fascination with Star Wars could emerge again without monitoring.

After much deliberation we determined that it would be in Jake’s best interest if staff were present.  However, staff were instructed to be as unobtrusive as possible.  There would not be any systematic contingency system, and assistance would only be provided as absolutely necessary.  Staff were given the analogy that they were to act as if they were a “secret agent”. They should only become visible in an emergency!  The students and their parents should never be able to detect that they were Jake’s shadow.  They should be perceived as a classroom aide that the school district generously provided for the entire class.

Intervention at school mainly focused on increasing Jake’s independence, ability to attend and learn within a natural group setting, and of course social relationships.  More specifically, targeted goals were Jake following group and individual instructions, paying attention to the teacher, staying on task, social interactions, staying in the group, and noticing what the other children were doing.  Intervention was quite successful.  Jake’s ability to learn in a group and pay attention to the teacher increased dramatically.  He also became quite independent in the classroom.  He was able to follow the class rules and schedule and complete tasks on his own.

Although Jake was having daily triumphs it was also becoming clear that Jake was having trouble simply being a child!  He was not socially interacting.  He would not talk to or even play with his peers.  Jake appeared to be disinterested and was unwilling to socialize.  It became critical that we develop programs to address these issues, to avoid him being stigmatized as a loner.  More importantly, if we couldn’t increase his social interest we risked serious repercussions that could ultimately affect the quality of his life.  Two other issues that were emerging were (1) Jake was growing tired of therapy and the demands that were being placed on him and (2) he exhibited a noticeably sad demeanor in school and at home.

The Elementary School Years

The course became clear!  We were no longer concerned about academics and cognitive functioning.  The mission was to concentrate all of our efforts on providing Jake the skills and interests so that he could develop meaningful friendships.  Our expectation was that this would successfully address his depression as well.

We began by exposing Jake to situations that would facilitate his interactions outside of school.  His parents arranged for play dates at their house.  Although it was not always easy to find the right peer and parents who were agreeable, they were persistent in their efforts.  This allowed therapists to work on social skills in a more structured setting than in school.  In addition, Jake attended a sports camp which provided Jake the opportunity to interact with multiple children in a less formal setting.  Finally, Jake started to participate in Little League and AYSO, which gave him additional children with whom to interact.

It was critical to develop individualized programs to help Jake learn the prerequisite skills needed to increase social interactions.  A “cool-not cool” program was implemented in which Jake had to learn to discriminate between behaviors that were socially acceptable (labeled “cool”) and those behaviors that were not socially acceptable (“not cool”).  Issues such as sharing, compromising and not perseverating were common targets.  To teach these discriminations, one of his therapists acted out a behavior that was either socially appropriate or a behavior that was socially inappropriate.  Jake’s job was to tell his therapist if the behavior was “cool” (i.e., socially acceptable) or “not cool” (i.e., socially unacceptable).  Jake’s next responsibility was to demonstrate the behavior in a “cool” manner.

Gradually, we began to see slight improvements.  Jake was less off-putting in the classroom.  However, during recess, lunch, or after school he still remained unapproachable. Nonetheless, we remained encouraged by the slight progress and continued in our efforts. Weekly, we started seeing Jake becoming more interested in social interaction;  both inside and outside the classroom.  As Jake became more socially engaged, peer approval became far more powerful.  His perseverative and highly competitive behaviors started to reduce.  Not surprisingly his peers became more accepting and then interested in him.  One peer, Andy, captured his interest.  His parents jumped on the opportunity and invited Andy for play dates and outings.

After Jake and Andy became friends we saw incredible improvements in Jake’s social interactions.  He was becoming more social during unstructured times (e.g., recess, lunch, and after school), he started to play more with peers, and was increasing the amount of time that he engaged in play.  In addition, the frequency of inappropriate behaviors that were often displayed during social interactions, such as gazing or slight body self stimulation (e..g, hand movements) decreased dramatically.  But the job was far from over.

It was the goal for Jake’s cognitive functioning to continue to stay at grade level despite the tremendous increase in academic difficulty.  At the same time, we wanted to decrease the assistance he needed to help him through the school day to avoid his being stigmatized by the additional attention he was receiving.  In order for Jake to remain successful in the general education classroom it was important to make sure his academic skills were on par with his peers.  Fortunately, Jake was a very intelligent child who had many strengths and was able to learn new skills and concepts quickly.  Although Jake was clearly an intelligent child, he did have some noticeable deficits compared to other children in his class.  As concepts became more abstract and therefore more difficult for him, he started paying less attention.  A majority of the time, Jake would engage in competing behaviors such as gazing, looking down at his desk, or engaging in other self-stimulatory behaviors.  If Jake did not pay attention to the teacher, clearly he would not be able to learn the material thereby requiring the need for a behavioral assistant, perhaps for the remainder of his education.

We contemplated many different programs ranging from subtle to quite intrusive.  We had always rejected being intrusive.  We simply did not want Jake to be identified.  But, we felt that he needed extremely comprehensive programs that would require his shadows to provide him constant feedback.  We rationalized that his behaviors were already distinguishing him as a student that needed assistance.  Also, he had true friends.  His friendships were based upon reciprocity and not because his friends felt they needed to take care of him or be nice to him.  They simply had common interests and wanted to be his friend.  So we were slightly less concerned about the repercussions of our being intrusive.  We conferred with his parents.  They had always been reluctant for him to be identified, but they understood the stakes and gave us their support.

The goal was to eventually decrease Jake’s need for behavioral assistance by increasing his attention span when presented with difficult material.  We also wanted to teach him to be better able to identify when it was important to pay attention and when it was not as important.  Most importantly, we needed to teach Jake to self monitor his attention. The foundation of the program was that he received tokens when displaying sustained attention.  These tokens were exchanged at home for reinforcers (e.g., watching extra TV, buying baseball cards, playing on the computer). It became critical for us to transfer assistance provided to Jake from the shadow to his teacher.  We desperately wanted to completely fade his shadows by the end of elementary school so that he could attend Middle School without any support.  A fading program was put into place so that instructional control could transfer from the behavioral assistants to the teacher.

The teacher gradually became responsible for providing all instructions as well as providing feedback.   Additionally, if Jake needed assistance, he was to ask the teacher and not his support staff.  If for any reason Jake needed help, the behavioral assistants were instructed to give prompts either through a gesture or a non-verbal prompt.  The third step of the fading program was for the behavioral assistant to walk around the room and help the other children in the class, forcing Jake to become more independent. We had gone back to secret agent mode.  As Jake’s success rate increased, the behavioral assistants started to fade out the time that they were in the classroom, gradually increasing the amount of time Jake was in the class without them.  Shadows were encouraged to systematically leave the classroom for prolonged periods of time.  Eventually, it was planned for them to be “sick”.

Once the shadows were away for considerable durations of time, a change was made in the reinforcement system that was being implemented.  It was determined that the token system that was being used was too cumbersome for the teacher and it needed to be changed so that both Jake and the teacher would be successful.  The token system switched over to a simple self-monitoring system in which Jake was responsible for monitoring his own behavior and the teacher would then agree or disagree with Jake’s self-evaluation.  The final component of the fading process was the removal of behavioral assistance all together so that Jake would be in the classroom by himself.  In order to make sure that Jake would become successful, behavioral assistants who were unknown to Jake would occasionally go in the classroom pretending to be a teacher’s aide, and would monitor Jake’s behavior.

In his last year of elementary school, he was able to attend the school’s annual tradition of sending the fifth graders to a mountain retreat for a week where they were able to learn about nature and the ecology of the mountains.  This was something his parents previously could only dream would happen.  Additionally, while in the fifth grade, Jake won the school-wide spelling bee. By the end of elementary school, Jake was able to attend the classroom without an aide and was above grade level in all subjects.  More importantly he continued to have meaningful friendships.  It seemed as if everything was going well for Jake, as he was excelling in most areas of his life.  However, Jake still continued to exhibit signs of depression. To help Jake with this concerning area, he started to receive behavioral counseling once a week after school from one of the behavioral supervisors at Autism Partnership.

The majority of the sessions were devoted to discussing Jake’s recognition of him being slightly different.  He realized that it was harder for him to concentrate than his friends.  Also there were times that it was hard for him to want to interact.   Perhaps his biggest issue was not wanting to have support because he was embarrassed and stressed by having people constantly focus on the things that were ”wrong” with him.  Jake and his counselor discussed various coping strategies he could use.  They also talked about the typical struggles of adolescents.  But perhaps the most valuable aspect was Jake simply being able to talk to someone about his issues.  What became clear was that it was imperative for Jake to understand why he was different and why he was receiving support.  We felt it was essential that he be informed about his diagnosis and therefore why we were “bugging him!”

Naturally, this was not our decision.  His parents had to not only concur but strongly support such a decision!

Revealing the Diagnosis

Since Jake was originally only going to be in intervention for a short time, his parents had hoped they would never have to tell Jake or others outside of the grandparents and a few close friends about his diagnosis.  They had started couples counseling in March 1996 when Jake was almost 5 years old to deal with the devastating issues that surround  a family who has a child with Autism: marital stress involving  differences in reactions to the diagnosis and prognosis, huge demands on time and reduced privacy, attempting to prevent people from knowing about Jake’ diagnosis and the isolation that creates and to just be able to discuss the emotions regarding the roller coaster ride  involved in watching your child go through this enormous struggle.  The decision to tell Jake required that Todd and Grace directly face all of their fears and sadness about the diagnosis.  Preparing them for being able to tell Jake in an open, supportive, and optimistic way was critical.

The parent’s therapist, Jake’s counselor, Todd and Grace all met to strategize about the best way for all to manage this undertaking.  Essentially a script was developed covering the information that Jake needed to be provided and points that his parents wanted him to understand regarding why this information had been withheld.  Everyone brain-stormed about possible questions that Jake might have and the best responses to those questions. Having a specific plan for the words to use in the discussion was extremely useful in helping Todd and Grace feel more in control of the situation. Work would begin on preparing Jake for the actual telling and the process that would follow.

In their sessions, Jake’s counselor had introduced the importance of being familiar with your strengths and weaknesses and understanding that everyone has areas that are difficult for them.  They were co-authoring a story that involved a character that was gifted with various super powers.  The counselor suggested to Jake that maybe they explore what it would be like if their character also had a learning disability. Famous people that also happened to have disabilities with specific labels were mentioned.

Presenting to Jake the reality that struggles, and figuring out ways to deal with those struggles, are a factor in everyone’s life was a focus during sessions.

When the agreed upon time came, Todd and Grace started the conversation with Jake in his bedroom and sailed through the previously dreaded process.  After all the anticipation, Jake had few questions and seemed satisfied with the explanation for why he had been receiving all of those annoying therapy sessions for so long.  Most notably, he later apologized to his counselor for thinking that the staff had been bugging him for all of those years and what a pain he must have been.  It was made clear to Jake that any time he wanted to talk about his Autism or had any questions, that both his parents and his counselor would be completely available.  The hurdle was passed which provided relief for everyone involved, especially for his parents.

Moving On

In June of 2003, Jake was promoted from elementary school.  Standing in front of all the parents, families, and other children no one was able to identify any difference between Jake and his classmates. Shortly afterwards, Jake went back to UCLA for another follow-up assessment.  This assessment revealed that he had above average intelligence.  But perhaps more exciting was that he was socially adept.  He was empathic, sensitive and socially wise!

Even though this was an exciting time for Jake and his family, it was also a scary time.  Jake was now going to be going into middle school, where he would be facing dealing with several teachers, rather than just one.  Middle school also brought more difficult classes, which would require that Jake pay even more attention.  Middle school would prove to be a very exciting and challenging time for Jake.

Any concerns we had were quickly alleviated.  Despite being placed in GATE classes and even without supports he was not only succeeding but was doing “A” work.  He was navigating the challenging world of middle school, getting to class on time on a big campus, and being the little fish in the big pond.

Conclusion

In June of 2006, Jake walked across the stage and received his promotion certificate from Nobel Middle School.  With a big smile on his face, his family taking pictures, and his friends giving him “high fives” on his way off stage, you could never have known all the hard work that made this moment possible.  From the initial assessment at UCLA diagnosing Jake as having Autism, to the initial meeting at Autism Partnership, to the countless hours of therapy, to the final assessment at UCLA showing that he had reached best outcome, having an IQ of 120, all seemed worthwhile.  Now at the age of fourteen, Jake will be heading off to a private high school without the support of Autism Partnership and without other than the typical worry of what the future will hold.  The future remains bright for Jake — four years from now he will be walking across the stage of his high school and getting prepared to attend any college of his choice — that is if he can keep from socializing too much!

[aion-rsa]

INTERVIEW: Brian Wood Returns to Rebels with the Next Generation

After a year-long hiatus, Brian Wood and Andrea Mutti are returning to Dark Horse Comics this spring for a second volume of their popular historical fiction series “Rebels.”

In the first volume, “Rebels: A Well-Regulated Militia,” Seth Abbott fought with a militant group known as the Green Mountain Boys to help his fellow Americans win their independence in 1775. Leaping forward two decades to 1794, “Rebels: These Free and Independent States” follows Seth and Mercy Abbott’s son John, who is coming of age in step with the birth of a new nation.

Set partly aboard the very real U.S.S. Constitution, one of Navy’s famous first six frigates, Wood told CBR the new volume, which launches on March 22, will also explore piracy on the high seas, the Quasi-War between United States and France, the abolitionist movement and the events leading up to the War of 1812. The second volume will also feature more adventures starring the fictional Seth Abbott, as well as a brash, young soldier named George Washington.

CBR: There were some reports that “Rebels” was canceled, but did you always know that you were going to come back to the series?

Brian Wood: I always made it clear that more “Rebels” was coming and there were no official reports of cancellation. Andrea Mutti and I always had the intention to make this thing run for as long as possible with multiple seasons. I found when I was writing my Norse historical series “Northlanders” that the longer it ran, the more stories you can tell, and the fuller a picture it paints of the history. I wanted that for “Rebels.”

Is a series like “Rebels” more or less relevant now that Donald Trump is President of the United States? Having read about your politics, he’s a man I believe that you would have voted against last year.

History is always relevant, and popular media is saturated with historical facts and elements. This saturation is evident not only in comics but in politics, television, video games, print media and Broadway musicals. The Tea Party Movement back in 2009 really went all in with the revolutionary imagery, often to a silly degree, but always with the intent on linking this history to right-wing politics, often to the exclusion of anything else. That bothered me, since I consider myself to be not only a lefty in the Bernie Sanders mold, but a patriot, a patriotic person. I’ve found that a lot of people assume those two things can’t coexist, so that’s part of the reason why “Rebels” was created.

What can we learn today from the men and women (and boys and girls) that built the United States 238 years ago?

Civics. You have to engage and make your voice heard. And posting to your personal choir on social media doesn’t count as civic engagement.

“Rebels: A Well-Regulated Militia” was powerful not only for its historical relevance and storytelling, but also because you provided an incredibly detailed and moving account of Seth Abbott’s life. While historical figures like George Washington and Benedict Arnold play minor roles in the series, why was it important for you to ground the series in a fictional character like Seth Abbott?

Creating Seth Abbot was partly to give myself a break – a fictional character allows us to tell the story we all want to tell without being trapped by historical facts and having my hands tied narratively. I mean, the Green Mountain Boys were real, as was Ethan Allen and the “noble train of artillery,” but I wanted to be control of the personal narrative of the main character. Seth needed to be a sort of everyman. I also wanted to be able to filter some of my own stories of Vermont childhood, the history that excites me, and the locations I know personally into that narrative.

Did you research the Green Mountain Boys and develop Seth as a composite character based actual members? I actually did a little research myself and found the name Seth Warner. Any relation here?

Seth Warner was a cool guy, and he’s actually going to make an appearance in a later issue of this next round of “Rebels.” Seth Abbot remains entirely fictional.

I was happy to learn that the Abbott family story continues in “Rebels: These Free and Independent States” with the adventures of John Abbott, Seth’s son. Is Seth still alive when the new volume opens?

Yes, and we see Seth and Mercy and that same house in the woods. When we left them, Seth’s son John was about 5 or 6 years old. We pick up again when he’s about ten.

What can you tell us about John now that he has become a young man? He was certainly a special young boy when we first met him in Volume 1. Is he like his father or more like his mother, Mercy Abbott, another powerful character?

John’s really his own person. He would absolutely have been somewhere on the Autistic behavioral spectrum, probably Asperger’s Syndrome if they’d had the knowledge to diagnose him back then. This new story will track John as he grows up and passes through some major historical events. However, his personal journey includes dealing with these events but also standing out, struggling to fit in, to communicate, to find his place, and to find a home for his talents.

In the new series, John signs up to defend his nation by joining America’s first navy, the Six Frigates. While so much of the first series was set in the Northern wilderness and the city streets of New York and Boston, is it safe to assume that much of this next volume will be set at sea?

I’d say half and half. John is apprenticed to the shipyard that built the U.S.S. Constitution — Old Ironsides — so we see that built and eventually sailed on. However, there’s much more to it than that. We have the great political divide of the day, often boiled down to the contrast between Hamilton’s Federalist stance and the more states-oriented Democratic-Republicans that Jefferson and Madison pushed for, manifesting in street rallies and back-of-the-pub arguments. We had the piracy in the Barbary states against American merchant ships, the Quasi-War in the Caribbean, John making a couple friends in the abolitionist movement, and the great lead-up to the War of 1812, America’s second war with England.

What do these new settings allow for you as a storyteller?

I was attracted to the idea that these people had this massive rebellion and beat a global empire for their independence, which is truly a unique event in the history of the world. But now they have to actually make a new country and run it, and in doing so, determine what the national identity actually is. In my eyes, a lot of our national identity was determined in the lead-up to 1812 with American’s defining their lines, what they would and would not tolerate, and testing this new political system. We see John Abbott grow up and find his way as a young America does.

I think it goes without saying that America is still trying to figure it out, the American experiment.

Will John be a crew member aboard the Constitution, or will he be manning a fictional composite frigate?

The U.S.S. Constitution. He was a young apprentice when the keel was laid down, and put his blood, sweat and tears into the thing. A big part of this story deals with what happens when he realizes he won’t be taking it to sea. He feels like he owns it.

Will this series contain done-in-one, stand alone stories like the first volume?

Yes, just like the first series, we’ll have the one big story, and then a few one-shots to help paint that fuller picture I mentioned. I’m still nailing down some of the details on some of them, but I can say one will deal with a young George Washington, well before he became that “venerated Virginian veteran” and was just this brash rich kid that single-handedly caused the French and Indian War. That’s a true fact!

Will Andrea be illustrating all eight issues, or will the series feature other artists, as well?

Andrea will do the main story, and we’ll get a couple guests in like we did in the first series. I really loved that about my time on “Northlanders” and on “Rebels.” A variety of story topics is great, but a variety of art styles really makes the anthology format sing. Lauren Affe will color the stories. Jared K. Fletcher is back to letter it, and Matt Taylor is doing all the covers for the series.

“Rebels: These Free and Independent States” launches March 22.

The post INTERVIEW: Brian Wood Returns to Rebels with the Next Generation appeared first on CBR.com.

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