#why are embedded links broken

[eternalgirlscout]

why is embedding links broken completely on this damn webbed site

[neverpathia]

I'm just assigning weapons to the voices and vessels because I am a fantasy nerd like that. [WARNING: LONG ASS POST]

(alternative title: watch nevvey lose his mind over random blades and not-blades, and lie about being esoteric for who-knows-how-long minutes straight. gets exponentially both longer and worse the more you read.)

(@/phospolipid-bilayer influenced too many of these things by accident thanks to their lobotomy corporation series thing going on)

(this is also mainly for my AU, I guess)

-- -- -- -- --

Hero - basic ass yee yee sword

Hunted - a kinda primitive cross between a mace and a spear? but it's really more like claws and teeth grafted to a sharpened stick. lord of the flies core and all.

okay i can also see him using a crossbow and bolts, or perhaps tribal darts. i don't really think he'd want to approach a potential threat up close. he'd prefer to shoot from beneath the concealments of foliage instead. singular fangs attached to splintered branches, whittled to straight implements of death, of defense. i kinda like this one more to be honest.

Beast/Den - no shit sherlock she already has pre-ordered weapons. claws. fangs. hack and slash and gore and tear.

Opportunist - switchblade. one that's small and easily concealed up his sleeve. the hilt is gilded with gold and embedded with emeralds because he's flashy like that. the thing's probably also soaked with some sort of venom for added inconvenience, though the blade is probably too small and thin by itself to actually be majorly dangerous.

(someone on discord suggested that he'd use a stiletto or cinquadea hidden up his boot instead and that's a pretty valid take, fuck that's cool as shit you brilliant brilliant fella, but i'm still kinda attached to my own take lol.)

Witch/Thorn - I mean she does canonically use her claws but I feel like I wanna lean more into the magic-user aspect of her. probably a sort of wand, that's also small and easily concealed up her sleeve like oppy's knife. greatest affinity with trees and roots and grass and the like. also easily smacked in someone's face and shoved down their throat or nose if needed. probably bladed at one end too, even if it does cut her a little when she's hiding it.

side note: she's definitely going to be amazing with poisons. would be able to pinpoint every single one of them, and she knows more specimens and symptoms than even the resident para(noid)medic. why? no reason. she's just a witch.

Wild - do I even need to. nerve root strangulation???

Skeptic - I mean he's a detective, so honestly?

OH. okay. good cop, I see you. cold harsh logic in the absence of the supernatural, I see you. LET HIM HAVE GUNS. specifically, revolvers, because I wanna stay loyal to the high fantasy aesthetics we have going on. he dual wields (something about covering every eventuality, blah blah).

(sigh now i'm getting an idea for a scene with stubborn, cheated, contrarian and broken playing russian roulette with skeptic's revolvers while the peepaw detective remains oblivious and wonders where the shit his guns went.)

Prisoner/Cage - GARROTE. GARROTE WIRE. YEAHHHHH BABY, ASPHYXIATION FOR THE WIN. like. she'd be a natural with the thing, she already strangles you with chains anyway. perhaps the thing is made of thin yet heavy chain-links with hooks at the ends, kinda like the chains in cage? a bit like a surujin, perhaps? maybe spiked? at this point i'm letting rule of cool drive all this.

although to be honest i'm also slightly enjoying the image of her using clinical instruments like a scalpel. she can share that with paranoid as a side thing, i guess.

or i can also see her using a weighted flail, because prisoner. god too many options

Drowned Grey - dunks you with water balloons and a super soaker. nah I'm just kidding, but I can see her using a sort of harpoon, perhaps?

at this point my brain is veering into Off Topic Land and proposing the headcanon that prisoner goes fishing. great. no thanks.

Smitten - for all his knight in shining armour rambling and shambling and garbling and warbling, fine. sword and shield. specifically, a grand broadsword and shield, both carved with very elaborate depictions of flowers and maidens and chivalry and the like. don't ask me how he's carrying both at the same time, each with one hand. he's probably freakishly strong, he's smitten after all.

Damsel/HEA - as damsel she's probably going to rely on smitten to protect her, but i like to think she picks something up after HEA. perhaps she gets a little rapier hidden up her skirts. plain and undecorated, unlike her opulent garments. sharp despite its small size. honestly i don't even think it'd be practical to get it out of there but i might also decide to redesign post-ending HEA for the sake of this thing. i do plan on redesigning the vessels anyway.

(also it took me this long to realise that technically she does have a weapon, and not a weapon, the weapon, the dinky little knife itself resting beneath her neck- nah. fuck it.)

I also love the idea of damsel with one of those crude little fairy godmother cartoon wands that's pretty much just a rod with a star on top. the one that's in all those transparent pngs and kindergarten textbooks. would be funny. wonder if she'd know how to actually cast with it, though? well, if it makes you happy.

Burned Grey - look, i absolutely adore the image of her just throwing around a flamethrower like there's no tomorrow. but i'm staying loyal to the high fantasy aesthetic so we sure as fuck can't have that. allow me to propose... yeah actually? i have no fucking idea. i'm going to google.

and one train of research and distractions later, i have been led to the handgonne which is pretty much a medieval flamethrower-esque kinda thingy. seems a little impractical. but hey, what with burning down both LQ and herself, which is sure to cause a LOT of inconvenience, the burned grey is all about impractical.

Stubborn - fists. do i even need to explain

Adversary - fists. do i even need to explain

okay but we do know that advy sort of has claws, but we don't really see her use them, though. and i like to think that stubborn attaches blades to his knuckles for maximum impact.

but in all fairness, when they don't use their fists, i like to think that they have matching sledgehammers. big and messy and violent. heavy. bloody. they love it.

Eye of the Needle - this is another one has who pre-ordered weapons free with her hands. claws. I'm not gonna bother. she probably retains the sledgehammer from advy though. or perhaps a gigantic battleaxe? don't know. probably has an entire arsenal because of how dang bloodthirsty she is.

Broken - would smack you upside the head with a bible while wailing and weeping. not funny, nevvey.

okay, he's probably the least combat-oriented of all the voices and I kinda see him as a sort of cleric? he's likely gonna be another magic-user like witch/thorn and paranoid. I can sorta see him wielding a staff like DnD-

WAIT. ALTAR KNIFE. ALTAR KNIFE. A FUCKING ATHAME. the thing's not even intended for genuine cutting, it's just there for ritual and channeling purposes. broken, I'm looking at you. PERFECT. and it's probably set in ivory and cracking porcelain and there's a bit of gold thread wrapping around it oh fuck yeah

Tower/Apotheosis - she would tell you that she doesn't need one, because her compelling voice is already enough. however, she is a girlfailure and you should never take her word for it.

I can low-key see her using a sort of scepter. something simple yet elegant carved from ceramic, radiating divine energy. yeah that's it. I don't really know. and she wouldn't stoop so low as to use a close-range bladed weapon, or anything that really uses a lot of physical effort at all. apothy's gonna need a HUGE one though

Fury - she can literally reduce you to subatomic particles. what need does she even have for a weapon? although I am SERIOUSLY digging the idea of her using a brutal bloody terrifying spiked club. way too large and way too many spines, perhaps ivory or bone. a bit of grisly membrane coating the material; a few fleshy tendrils travelling down its length. yeah. glances warily at body horror demon lady. would.

actually i can also see her using a meat cleaver because that would be kinda cute

Paranoid - FUCK YEAH I WAS WAITING FOR THIS ONE. staff. he wields a mage's quarterstaff. no question.

he definitely uses it for a ton of healing. the 'heart lungs liver nerves' mantra as a sorcerous incantation, fuck yeah. but paranoid is also really powerful and can probably use the same staff for minor transformative or conjuring spells.

now this one's probably been engraved all over with protective runes and symbols, to the point that you can barely even tell where one stroke ends and another begins. otherwise it's quite plain, but there's an orb at the top for better channelling. sometimes he uses it in conjunction with a grimoire.

it's also really handy for whacking annoyances upside the head as required.

side note: he uses a scalpel too. but he hates close-range, if he even needs to fight at all. he prefers to let hero or cold handle it while he plays support.

Nightmare/MOC - organ failure. why would i even need to elaborate.

well apparently i felt like elaborating anyway so i think she'd use...god, actually, this one is pretty hard.

OH, HOLD ON. Nightmare with oversized scissors/shears like a horror movie doll, all guro-lolita core. huh. that might be interesting. bonus points if the scissors are comically sharp. the handles are bone porcelain, smooth yet chipped, and painted with black-and-white patterns like her mask (so that I don't stray too far from the fantasy motif, because if i do, that would just completely break the rule of cool.)

Cold - well. phospo's (absolutely amazing beautiful splendid divine) cold wields a scythe and i am very extremely tempted to steal that concept from them. however, that would be plagiarism. and i am trying to avert plagiarism.

my original idea was always for cold to have a series of throwing knives and daggers like an assassin. i kinda see cold as someone who operates on stealth, shrouding himself in the shadows just as he shrouds his emotions. so he's just. throwing these things at you from out of fucking nowhere with deadly intent and precision. and he has excellent aim.

then again, this is probably really unoriginal but fuck cares

Spectre/PatD - does. a ghost. even need. a weapon?? how would a ghost even wield a weapon????

i'm gonna steal the flail from pris because she already has her nice little garotte and give it to spectre because it seems fitting enough. plus, i'm running out of ideas. sorry spectre.

although i like to think that patd gets a few avian features like talons and feathers in her hair, thanks to the switcheroo. so she can use those talons too, i suppose.

Wraith - OH. NOW THIS ONE. SPOOKY LITTLE SCYTHE, LIKE THE GRIM REAPER. no question. no question at all.

Cheated - so i apologise in advance because i am DEFINITELY committing plagiarism here. phospo, if you don't like me using your cheated-with-a-bayonet idea then i utter my sincerest regrets but. cheated. would use a bayonet.

i won't even talk about the fact that it's cool. but he'd also get it for the sake of maximizing his chances and for its versatility and, well, the fact that it is cool...and razor would still skewer him. not to mention it's not easy to use. so he'd probably attempt, and fumble, and attempt again, and just rage quit and smash the damn thing everywhere in combat like a berserker.

and it's probably just as fucked up and rusted and tattered as he is, but he still keeps it close, out of spite more than anything.

Razor - what are you talking about, she definitely isn't going to need a weapon, it's not like she's going to stab anyone anyway, it's definitely not like she's the weapon

discord said she'd use one of those disappearing trick knives. funny. nah, i think i'm giving that to...

Contrarian - you get the disappearing trick knife. and a nice rubber mallet. and a goose.

okay jokes aside i think he'd probably dual-wield as well, with weapons that have been specifically designed to be a pain in the ass for opponents.

personally i would give him a scimitar or khopesh because 1. i am OUT of ideas and 2. he's gonna have a lot of fun deflecting with the curved blades and using them to hook the opponents' weapons, then disarm them, then throw their blades out the window. then again, giving him a blade's a pretty bad idea. he'd throw it out the window himself-

wait. it's more like him to use a weapon that's not even designed to be a weapon. but that could be literally anything.

okay nevermind, contrarian is too hard to decide for. hell, he's a literal contrarian. fuck it, i won't be giving him a fixed weapon. he'd probably swap them out every two seconds and throw them out the window when he's done.

Stranger - oh shit. all five of her identities gotta have different weapons. this is the part where i'm getting lazy so i'll just steal from minecraft and go:

nondescript - bow

gentle - pickaxe

harsh - sword

evil - axe

depressed - spade

there we go. i suppose you can say she's multi-armed.

-- -- -- -- --

man this took way longer than i thought it would. what the fuck induced me to do this for like every single voice and vessel-? oh well it was worth it, especially now that i've given myself even more drawing and writing ideas especially for adventuring and fight scenes. yay.

[tahbhie]

Creating Aesthetic Posts On Tumblr! 🎨

Do you know the exciting thing about formatting on Tumblr? You get to do what you want with your post. 

However, if it's still confusing how you can make that happen, let's dive in right away. 

♡ 🌹 ♡

STEP ONE: Know your post.

Figure out what your post is about and get it ready. Is it a prompt, an excerpt from your story, your characters, or writing tips and advice? 

Ensure you already have the draft edited and ready.

STEP TWO: Major headlines or titles.

If your post has headlines, use the biggest font for the title. Examples:

⚔️ Five easy ways to get a novel done in 6 months.

Chapter 2: A Broken Mirror. 💔

👉Interview with my characters. 

STEP THREE: Minor headlines or subheadings.

If you have subheadings or minor headlines, use the bigger font. Examples:

✯✯Read books to be a writer. 

✯✯Attend local writing events. 

✯✯ Share your work for feedback. 

✯✯Write consistently

✯✯Set goals. 

STEP FOUR: Colour and highlights.

You can colour your text too, to prove a point, highlight an important message, or for beauty. Long press or highlight the word, phrase, or sentence you wish to add colour to. Example:

With the recent activity happening lately, it has been concluded that it's dangerous to go outside at night. 

Give me a reason why you chose to call at such an odd hour. 

Cats and dogs are great pets. 

Be my bestie!

STEP FIVE: Bold and italics

Long press or highlight your words to bold or italicize.  Example:

I can't believe she just said that. 

STEP SIX: Embedded link and link box.

If you have a link you want to share, you can do it in two ways.

👉 Embed the link in a text by long-pressing or highlighting the word, phrase, or sentence, clicking the chain icon, and inserting the link. Example:

Buy me a rose if you love what I do to support me.❣️

👉 You can also click on the chain icon to generate a link box, then paste the link in it, and click enter. It would show the content of your link. Example:

If you'd like to support me, buy me a rose. 

STEP SEVEN: Emojis.

Use emojis to enhance the beauty of your posts when you feel the need to. Example:

My beautiful plushies just arrived, guys; unbox with me!! 😍🧸

STEP EIGHT: Emoticons

Use emoticons. They are similar to emojis, but made up of signs and symbols. You can use them as emojis or as beautification. Examples:

✅ I pranked my brother with water balloons yesterday; now he hates me. :(

☞⁠ Some items my friend asked me to get for her birthday. ☜

☞⁠Heels

☞⁠Balloons 

☞⁠Dress

☞⁠Cake 

☞⁠Confetti 

☞⁠Donut 

☞⁠Punch bowl

STEP NINE: Use listicle

To organize your work and keep it clean, make use of lists. Examples:

Wake up in the morning.

Brush your teeth.

Wash your face.

Eat breakfast, and

Drink coffee.

OR

Wake up in the morning.

Brush your teeth.

Wash your face.

Eat breakfast, and

Drink coffee.

STEP TEN: Images and image descriptions. 

You can use images that are free for use on sites like Pexels, Unsplash, etc. Example:

OR

You create your own images on Canva. The image could be infographics, mood boards, etc. Example:

Image descriptions: To increase accessibility, click on the ellipsis on your image, click 'add alt text, then enter a description of your image. See examples above!

If you are an artist, your art can be added to your post where necessary.

STEP ELEVEN: GIF

Use GIF when you feel like it. 

STEP TWELVE: Memes.

Create memes on sites like Memix to add a comical side to your post. Example:

OR writing-related memes like:

STEP THIRTEEN: Polls. 

You can add a poll to ask the audience questions, giving them specific answers to choose from. You can also set how long you want the poll to last from the drop-down icon, and have up to twelve options.

To create a poll, click on the beach wave-like icon located in the lower right, next to the two human-like figures. Example:

STEP FOURTEEN: Music.

The headphone icon is to add any music to your post. Could be a music that speaks more of your character, etc. 

STEP FIFTEEN: Tags 

You can tag your mutuals, friends, or people you want to see a certain post. In most cases, writing games and challenges.

@tahbhie

Before posting your formatted post, add # to increase the visibility. There's an option under your post that lets you do that. Click the plus icon and you're on your way. Popular writing tags: #writerblr #writers #novel writing etc..

☞ You can mix all of these ideas to get what works best for each of your posts.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Friend, the link to the Spotify playlist is broken both in your recent post and your pinned post. It sends me to a tumblr page saying nothing exists. Would you mind sharing again? Happy New Year!!!

Thanks for letting me know!!! 💖💖💖💖💖

i have no idea why tumblr changed the url to redirect like that?? 😨 i removed the link and put it in again but tumblr did the same thing?! but putting the url as it is gives me that embedded playlist thingy so idk maybe it's just tumblr thinking that's how it's being a functional website 😭

Thanks again!!! 💖

[kikiiswashere]

Children of Zaun - Chapter 29 Sulphur, Saltpeter, and Charcoal

Pairing: Silco/Fem!OC

Rating: Explicit

Story Warnings: Canon typical violence, drug use/dealing, dark themes, smut

Chapter Summary: Things between Zaun and Piltover go from bad to worse. Katya's attempts to protect Viktor do not land as intended.

Note: Thank you all for your patience with this chapter. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, life has been a lot lately. I truly appreciate all you readers and am humbled by all the kind words this labor-of-love of mine has recieved. Y'all keep me going 💗

CW: Canon typical violence, police brutality, gun violence, murder, brief allusion to 69-ing

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 5.5K

Snowdown season ended. And with it, Topside’s patience.

A week after the skies dumped snow on Piltover and Zaun, three of the Children’s contraband runners were intercepted by Enforcers. Their usual route was gobbed up with snow and slush, forcing them to take a more travelled path.

They were stopped outside Augmentation Alley’s scrap pit. Enforcer’s pressed their fronts against the chain link fence, and searched them. Despite the cold, the air sizzled with the heat of tension. Each of the runners’ bodies was taut with anger and fear. Quivering like cornered dogs ready to bite.

The four Enforcers found bottles of clear Freljordian liquor tucked into their coats, shirts, trousers, and boots. They gently laid them in a snowbank nearby. Excitement bubbled beneath their skin over the find. Over what it might mean.

One of the Enforcers snidely asked for the stamped paperwork that was meant to accompany such product. Of course there was none, and the runners stayed tight-lipped, fuming and trembling.

“If there is no paperwork,” the Enforcer had said, his slippery voice hollow in his mask, “where did this come from?”

The other Enforcers pressed their batons firmly against the runners’ backs, the chain link biting into their skin. They said nothing.

“You steal it?”

No answer.

The Enforcer questioning them jerked his chin toward one of his peers. They knocked one of the runners to the ground – an older teen boy with shaggy blond hair. He grunted as he faceplanted into the dirty snow. The other Enforcers hauled him to his knees and found a revolver in his face.

“We can make it so you actually can’t answer.”

Feeling cornered shuts down one’s prefrontal cortex and the amygdala surges forward. Rational thoughts and actions get swallowed up by the primal need to survive. Which is why one of the runners, still held against the fence, flailed suddenly, her elbow threading the space between the Enforcer’s mask and chest, smashing into his neck. He choked and staggered, and she made to run.

Melee followed.

The Enforcer with the revolver shifted his attention and fired. The bullet embedded itself in the girl’s back, and she fell. The teen on his knees leapt up and tackled him. The third runner bucked against the hold of the Enforcer pinning them in place, thrashing out of their thread-bare coat and escaping. They went to scoop up the fallen girl, but her limp, heavy weight felt like death and they left her, darting for the hellish glow of Augmentation Alley. Two of the Enforcers streaked after them.

The tackled Enforcer and older teen wrestled on the ground, hands clamoring for control of the revolver. It went off without warning, without knowing its aim. The Enforcer’s back exploded in a warm, red shower and the young man gasped, kicking his way out from under the dead body.

The remaining Enforcer screamed, leapt forward, and bludgeoned the suspect with his baton. Between the twists of arms, mists of blood, and crunching of bone, another shot from the revolver blared and knocked the Enforcer back. He hit the fence and crumpled, chest gaping.

Shaking, bleeding, gasping, the battered runner gathered as many bottles as he could and crawled toward the nearest alley. He nestled himself in a snowbank, pouring the clear liquor over his wounds and down his throat. He waited for death to come.

It didn’t.

At some point, a pair of strong arms had hoisted him up. Voices murmured and glass clinked. Then there was warmth. The smell of stale beer and sweat. And astringent. The sound of a deep rumble and a rolling whisper. Something soft wrapped around his head. Something sturdy held his arm.

It would be a week before Dustin became remotely lucid. And even then, his eyes remained dark and drawn. Crazed.

The other runner managed to give the Enforcers the slip in the hot maze of Augmentation Alley. Ran appeared at The Last Drop a day later, covered in soot and burns, to inform Vander and Silco of what had happened. Their usual monotone speaking pitch turned jittery with anxiety.

The Children had been unable to retrieve the other runner’s body. The Enforcers that had pursued Ran came back to the crime scene before they could get to her.

There was a raid of Augmentation Alley the next day. Shops were turned inside out. Owners and their families lined up in the narrow streets while an army of Enforcers ransacked their livelihoods and homes.

Pok attempted to stop his shop from being destroyed, and was struck to the ground. Before Mek could come to his father’s aid, an Enforcer’s knee ground into the older man’s back and wrenched his arms around, slapping brass cuffs around his thick wrists.

“You’re under arrest for obstructing law enforcement.”

“You can’t do this!” Mek raged, advancing on the Enforcer.

“Leave it, boy!” Pok wheezed. Their eyes found each other. Even from the ground, Pok could pin his nearly grown son in place. “Leave it. Take care of things.”

The old augmenteer was hauled to his feet and led away. He gave Mek one last firm look, and his son was sure ‘take care of things’ did not just mean their shop.

Take care of Topside.

Pok was taken to Stillwater and never made it out.

The upturning of Augmentation Alley did not produce the suspect Enforcers were looking for. It technically did not reveal anything of note. But LeDaird had already been feeling Council’s pressure to act, to produce results. And now two of his own officers had been killed. The terrorist attack was already personal, but now the threat of the Children of Zaun had threaded beneath his ribs.

Screenings of goods destined for the Undercity intensified. Suppliers were searched along with their loads. New documentation became required. Small and fast skips patrolled wider and longer sections of the coastline, watching for any unusual activity.

Three weeks after the raid on Augmentation Alley, there was an unheard-of assembly at Rynweaver’s mine. Confused and agitated, miners and other employees shuffled into the facility’s cathedral. The space was rimmed with masked and armed Enforcers. The well-hewn walls glowed with strings of chem-bulbs and flood lights blared. Shadows of stalactites, stalagmites, and thin columns crisscrossed over the floor and walls. Atop the lead foreman’s trailer, Rynweaver stood. He looked coldly down at the Trenchers ambling in. Their dirty faces and dull eyes gazing up at him distrustfully.

Kat hung on the outskirts, shoulder brushing up against Silco’s. He’d positioned himself behind a craggy boulder, and had pulled the kerchief he wore around his neck over his nose. It was a habit he had developed the few times he and Rynweaver ever habituated the same space; born of his mother’s desire to keep her son separate from his sire. Lessening the chance of Rynweaver’s greedy gaze finding her boy in a crowd, and putting two-and-two together.

Sevika also stood with them, thick arms crossed over her chest.

Rynweaver held up a gloved hand and the crowd’s murmuring reluctantly dwindled.

“I will make this brief.” His cognac-smooth voice reverberated off metal and stone, sending vibrations beneath his audiences’ skin. “In light of the terrorist attack several weeks ago, the murder of Enforcers, and the raid recently, this mine will be doing its part to flush out the Children of Zaun. If anyone is discovered to be a member of this terrorist organization, they will be immediately fired and arrested. If anyone is found to have information of them and has not come forth, they will be fired and arrested. If anyone is found in support of the Undercity’s freedom, they will be fired and arrested.

“Thanks to these terrorists, the restrictions and protracted wait-time on imports and exports is causing the mine to lose money. To compensate for this unfortunate turn of events, all workers’ salaries shall be diminished by eight-percent – “

At once, the crowd erupted. They jostled and shifted like a school of fish, scales made of pickaxes and shovels glinting in the light. Kat’s stomach dropped, Silco stiffened. Sevika gasped and trudged forward, throwing her voice into the wails of complaints.

The Enforcers on the perimeter moved as one, stepping closer and herding the crowd with the slender but deadly bodies of their rifles.

“Consider this,” Rynweaver called above the din, “motivation for helping Council ferret out these traitors.” The angry swell of voices ebbed. “The sooner they are exterminated, the sooner this nation of Zaun nonsense is laid to rest, the sooner things go back to normal.”

“Normal is unacceptable!” Silco roared later that night at the Drop, standing atop the bar.

The Children rumbled their agreement. Over the course of the recent weeks, their faces had morphed. Once shining and hopeful, now darkening and angry.

“What is normal for Topside is us breathing smog, rationing breadcrumbs, breaking our bodies to service their needs!” A few of the growls rose into barked agreements. Others nodded, eyes hard and glassy. “Their normal will kill us!”

Kat watched him from her spot next to Enyd, heart pounding furiously. It was different than her first meeting. Her blood didn’t run cold with fear. Now, it boiled with indignation and fury. Her body thrummed with Zaunite pride and a disdain for their Sister City. Her chest swelled as Silco continued railing against Piltover’s abuse. Warm, slithering, smokey tendrils of awe filled the spaces between her organs and bones. His unabashed insistent belief and zealousness wafted from him, feeding her. Feeding the room. Their value, worth, and deservedness served to them on a silver platter with his words. And the crowd gorged.

Kat could even feel Enyd’s slight frame puff with pride at her son’s words and command of the room.

Vander leaned against the bar, watching and listening to his Brother’s ire. His face was a craggy series of lines and shadows, as if he’d been hewn from stone. His own fury was palpable. For the first time since overtaking The Last Drop, he hadn’t been able to pay the building’s rent, nor the other taxes Piltover burdened business owners with. It meant a yellow letter and a warning. Never mind the fact that the reason he’d been unable to pay in full was due to Topside’s chokehold on products coming into the Undercity.

Despite this, Vander listened to Silco and watched the crowd with a small amount of caution, ready to temper any hasty suggestions that would get their movement killed before any progress could be made. His eyes found Katya across the room, irritated that it was always her voice in his head when he thought of his responsibility to the Children. To the cause. To Zaun.

Since walking in on her and Silco, he’d avoided her the best he could. If he had to speak to her, his words were brief and colorless. He didn’t know if she thought he was still embarrassed and cagey, or if she was able to pick up on the undercurrent of envy coursing through him. In any case, she did not let on that she was aware of any shift in him. She appeared too preoccupied with the bombastic unfurling of her and Silco’s new relationship. Rarely was one seen without the other, their fingers tightly intertwined.

“We should gut any Enforcer that dares to step foot in the Undercity!” Tolder roared, leaping to his feet and throwing a fist into the air.

Lu jostled at his hip, giggling and tossing his own dumpling of a hand up. There was a small, angry swell of impulsive assent, frothing and spectacular in its heat. But most of the Children remained a dull sort of red. Their frustration grayed – caked and cracked by many heavy layers of unfairness.

Vander straightened at Tolder’s outburst. His heart hammered as he shot a glance up to Silco. His Brother folded his arms across his chest, lips thinning into a tight line.

“They deserve it,” Vander agreed, stepping forward. “But goin’ after Enforcers recklessly ain’ practical r’ wise. Silco n’ me – “

“So what? We’re just suppose’ta take it? What’re we doing here?”

“No,” Silco said firmly. “We will not take it. Haven’t you been listening?” He hopped off the bar and stepped in line with Vander. “We will not return to their status-quo. Nor shall we be stupid and hasty with how we move forward.”

Tolder blanched at his words, but Silco held the older man’s gaze. Then looked around the room.

“We are still in the cold season. Resources are always scarce. Now is the time to lean on each other. Stand shoulder to shoulder as Brothers and Sisters. We shall not be rattled.

“In terms of action, Vander and I have discussed the following – “

He laid out the development for new safehouses – places those in need could go if Janna’s Temple was full. It had been an endeavor spearheaded by Enyd. She reached out to her clients in the marketplaces and on the Promenade. Calling in favors and utilizing her likability to convince them to shelter Children who needed to hide, eat, or sleep. Thereby curling them into the cause.

Smuggling would continue. It had to. The change there would be security detail. Vander, Mek, Sevika, and other brawlers would flank the smaller, faster runners and take out anyone who stood in the way of their route.

Beckett would head a small crew of other Children – those specifically familiar with the docks – and sabotage Enforcer skips. Cutting fuel lines and puncturing hulls. There was also discussion of luring skips to the coast where a few Children would hide in the shadows of the craggy rocks, and use the few long -range rifles they had smuggled in from a Noxian trader to shoot them down. Although, the practicality of that plan was hotly debated. For one, ammunition was scarce. For a second, long-range marksmanship was a skill, and if the Children missed it would cost more than bullets and gunpowder.

“Katya can shoot,” Annie chirped.

Heads swiveled towards the medic, and while her shoulders stiffened, her eyes remained hard.

“I have never been trained. And firing a pistol is different than firing a rifle.”

“To-MAY-to, To-MAH-to,” Annie countered flippantly. “The ends of both go BANG, don’t they?”

“It is not that simple,” Katya replied, keenly aware that she was not scoffing outright at the suggestion. In fact, she felt annoyed by the idea’s pragmatic blocks. A frown formed on her face.

“We can make ammo,” Mek growled. Since his father had been hauled away, the teen had darkened and grown up fast. His voice had sunk and a heavy black cloud settled over his shoulders. His small eyes shone with rage. “Augmentation Alley can mold bullets.”

Katya swallowed, jaw setting. Her eyes locked onto Silco’s, still standing at the bar, before shifting back to Mek. “What of the gunpowder?”

Unsure murmurs vibrated through the tavern. Then, the most unlikely voice answered.

“The mines have gunpowder,” Enyd said.

All eyes fell on her, and she recoiled under the attention. But she took a deep, wheezing breath and stood as tall as her four-foot-eleven frame allowed.

She looked to her son and Vander before continuing. “The black powder used to blow apart the rocks there is the same as gunpowder. It is a fairly simple compound, too. Charcoal, saltpeter, and sulfur.”

Silco took a sharp breath in through his nose, remembering how that rotten-egg scent would linger on her clothes, in her hair.

“We have access to all of those things,” Vander said. “We could jus’ make our own. More work, yeah, but would be one less thing t’hafta smuggle.”

“We will do both,” Silco decided. His eyes shone as he looked at his mother. Possibility pulsed in his chest.

“There are sulfur pots deeper in the cave where the Springs are,” Kat said.

She nuzzled closer, her cheekbone rubbing against Silco’s neck, her left hand idly playing with the fingers of the arm wrapped around her shoulders. A low hum vibrated in his chest as he brought his other arm behind his head. He stared up at her bedroom ceiling in thought.

“Charcoal is easy enough to come by.”

“So is saltpeter,” he added. “It’s crusting every smokestack in Zaun.”

Silence fell between them. Then a thought curled Kat’s lips.

“It is ironic that Topside would shove us underground, only to give us the tools for their own undoing.”

A darkly amused sound huffed in Silco’s chest.

“They’ll choke on their own blood and hubris,” he whispered. “We’ll show them.”

The same warmth from the meeting swelled in Kat’s chest. It felt weighty with righteousness, her lungs struggling a bit under the emotion.

Suddenly, she sat up and made to straddle Silco’s waist. He started at her abrupt movement, but quickly settled back into the pillows. The blazing earnestness in her eyes held him in place. She hinged forward and kissed him, and he reached up to touch her cheek. When she straightened, the hand ghosted over her bare breast and rested on the ribs beneath it. She smiled at him, the dim green glow of the streetlamps outside cutting her into a beautiful shape. Then her smile lessened. Her eyes broke from his gaze and looked to the window.

“What is it?”

Silco watched the muscles in her jaw flex under the chartreuse light as she decided how to articulate whatever she was thinking.

“I have to get Viktor tomorrow.”

A low, short hum rumbled in Silco’s throat. His thumb swept over the mole beneath the swell of her breast. Kat disappeared from his side when she had her brother under her wing. He saw nothing of her between Friday afternoon and Monday morning.

“I will not lie,” she said, “the tenser things between Zaun and Piltover become, the more I am worried. I know there is no way forward without violence, but I am scared something may happen to him.”

Silco gently pet her flank, trying to decide what was best and truest to say.

“You cannot hide him from this forever.”

Kat’s brows pinched. “I am not hiding him. He knows there is unrest – “

“That’s not what I am talking about.”

She said nothing for a long moment. Then sighed, “I am not ready to tell him that I am a part of this. I am not ready to tell him anything.”

Her eyes sheepishly found his in the dark, the subtext of that statement settling heavy between them. She did not want Viktor involved in this part of her life – not the Children, not Enyd, not Silco.

Not yet.

Silco did not fight her on it. It wasn’t his decision to make. Viktor was her family, her responsibility. If Kat felt it was safest for him to be kept separate for the time-being, it wasn’t his place to insist otherwise.

Even so, he asked: “When will you?”

“When our freedom is on the horizon,” she said with a smile. Then, her expression sobered. “Or when I absolutely have to.”

Silco’s lips thinned and he nodded once, his eyes breaking away from hers. Kat reached out, running the back of her fingers down his cheek and over the scar on his lip.

“He is eleven. I want him to be a child as much as he can be. I know it is a privilege most Zaunite children do not get to have, but if I can offer some semblance of youth to him, I will. I want him to have better than I did. In every way. You understand?”

He did. Of course he did. A long sigh softened Silco’s body, and he leaned into her hand.

“I understand. I am selfish, and miss you on the weekends.”

Kat’s mouth quirked into a grin. She leaned over to kiss him, her hand threading through the ebony tangle of his hair.

How easily they fell into one another. Her plushness and his angles slotting together perfectly. How much sweeter would it be once Zaun was free, when their angst lifted and floated away on a sea breeze?

She could not wait.

“I miss you, too,” Kat whispered, pulling back. Then that mischievous, secret glint flashed in her eyes. “Shall I give you something to remember me by?”

Silco’s own eyes darkened, his pupils swallowing any of the faint light filtering into the room. A wolfish grin lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Like I said: I am selfish. I will gladly take whatever you’ll give me.”

“And then some.”

“And then some,” he agreed.

She matched his smile before spinning around, diving head first beneath the covers. Silco’s large hands gripped her hips firmly, and pulled her to his mouth just as her lips wrapped around him.

There was a promise of warmth on the edges of the breeze that fluffed Viktor’s hair. He and Miss Ivy stood by the Bridge’s attendance hut waiting for his sister. He hoped the warm season would begin sooner rather than later, if for no other reason than that he could take his lunch outside again. During the cold season he had no choice but to eat in the cafeteria with the rest of his class. They would shoot him prying stares and whisper about the stitches on his uniform and worn shoes. About how the button-up beneath his vest was a dingy grey color, instead of their pristine, crisp white ones. They’d hiss about how he was from the Undercity, and therefore made him a novelty. Not a novelty to be coveted, but one to be gawked at, poked and prodded. The other-ing had only gotten worse since that airship crash several weeks ago. The boys and girls in his classes plied him with taunts thinly veiled as questions. In more extreme cases, he’d be harassed as he walked across campus: older students yelling slurs at him, gesturing rude things.

He didn’t mention it to anyone. Professor Heimerdinger may have been willing to listen, but nothing would change. He had not seen Councilor Bone since before Snowdown. He didn’t tell Katya because . . . because something was off.

The sense of something being amiss he had had several weeks ago hadn’t ebbed. For weeks, his sister seemed a shell of herself. Attentive enough to keep his needs met, but there had been no light in her eyes. None of her smiles brightened her face. Then, the Friday after the Snowdown holidays, something had changed. Katya was bright again, but it didn’t warm him. She seemed happier, but still distant. Like her mind was elsewhere.

When she did not appear distracted, Katya was bubbling with frigid indignation about Piltover’s recent treatment of the Undercity. In the past, she kept their heads low and made a point to skirt around Enforcers. Avoiding them was not an option any longer, and Katya’s nervousness about them had transformed into anger. She kept her face hard when they walked through the Lanes back to the Sump, the grip she had on Viktor’s shoulder commanding and tight.

They had been stopped for questioning a couple of times. Where were they coming from? Where were they going? Had they seen anything suspicious lately? Katya’s answers had been short and sharp. Not rude enough to set the Enforcers off, but she left no room for them to think she would be any kind of helpful.

They’d been searched once. A perfunctory pat-down of Katya and a search of Viktor’s duffle bag. For a split second, he thought she might actually lash out when one of the Enforcers gently patted his body down. Of course, they had nothing on them, so they were allowed on their way. The rest of the evening, Katya stomped around the apartment, pots and pans clanging, her eyes – stuck in a perpetual glare – continually shot to the door and to the windows. As if she was expecting to see something there. She also kept lifting the collar of the shirt she was wearing – one he did not recognize – up to her nose, and breathing deeply. As if it brought her some sort of comfort.

The increased Enforcer presence in the Undercity also meant that he and Katya spent most of the weekend holed up in the apartment. No trips to the docks, the Oases, the Springs, or any of the marketplaces. And despite the close and constant quarters with his sister, Viktor battled a persistent, creeping sense of alienation.

His young heart twisted painfully in his chest as the ability to find solace on either side of the River dwindled.

“Here she comes,” Ivy sighed suddenly, pulling Viktor from his heavy thoughts.

He blinked his gaze back into focus, and saw Katya striding across the Bridge. She beamed at him, and Viktor desperately wished he could feel it. The gate attendant lifted the barricade, allowing him and Ivy to step through.

As usual, once Viktor was within arm’s reach, Katya gathered him up against her chest in a tight hug. Her nose buried itself in the fluffy folds of his hair, and her lips pressed against his crown.

“I missed you.”

Viktor knew she wasn’t lying. Yet, the sentiment seemed to bounce off his heart, unable to sink in.

“I missed you, too.”

She drew back and pet a hand through his hair. Her eyes gleamed as she took him in, an intense look of pride that strangely left him feeling lacking.

“Come. Let us go home.”

As had been the case for the past several weeks, Katya only acknowledged Ivy enough to take Viktor’s duffle from her.

“Have a nice weekend, Miss Ivy,” he offered before limping away.

The aide smiled sweetly at him. “You as well, Viktor.”

“Come along.”

Katya gently tugged on his coat, encouraging him to step away from Piltover. He gave Ivy a meek smile and she waved good-bye.

As they slowly traveled toward the conveyor car station, Viktor eyed the artwork and graffiti that now decorated buildings, walkways, fencing, and lampposts. Blue birds and ‘Zs’ scribbled in varying art styles and detail. Slogans of ‘FREE ZAUN,’ ‘WE ARE THE STORM’S FURY,’ and ‘FUCK TOPSIDE’ were written in manic zig-zags of chalk. It made him feel nervous. Dread brushed gently against his stomach.

The pair stiltedly ascended the few steps up to the conveyor car, and Katya flashed her Academy-issued badge. She and Viktor took their seats, and he fished out one of his steno pads from his school satchel. His sister smiled as he reviewed the notes he’d made that week in Professor Heimerdinger’s robotics class. Sketches of gears, cogs, and possible engine designs covered the pages.

“Still planning on a boat?”

Viktor nodded. “We will get to start constructing in a few weeks. We have to get designs approved first.”

Katya nodded. Her body jostled as the conveyor car began to slide down into the Undercity.

She pet a hand through his hair and said, “I am sure you will have no problem getting your plans approved.”

“I want to make an engine that is not reliant on traditional fuel. Like wood or coal,” he said, eyes glued to his notes and drawings. “Something that is sustainable and renewable. That way, maybe, it is something that can be transitioned to a larger scale. To help out the fishermen at the docks.”

Katya’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and drew him close. She kissed the crown of his head.

“That is a marvelous idea.”

Viktor kept his notebook close the rest of the night. Skimming through pages, adding notes and annotations. Adjusting sketches and scribbling new ones.

Gnawing on his lip, he sat back in his chair at the kitchen table. Katya stood at the sink, washing the dishes from dinner. He looked at his notebook, then Katya, then the living room window, then Katya again.

“Kat?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s getting warmer out. Do – do you think that we could go out this weekend to try and find materials for my boat?”

Katya stilled, the soft scrubbing of her sponge silencing. Viktor watched as her shoulders slumped. Disappointment began smoldering in his belly before she even turned around.

“I thought the Academy was providing materials,” she said, turning to face him. A hand on her hip, her mouth fighting a frown.

“They are. But . . . I want to use things from the Undercity. We could go to the scrap pit by Augmentation Alley. Just get scraps. We don’t have to even spend any money.”

Katya lost the fight with the grimace trying to spread across her face. Viktor held her gaze, but he could not understand why her emotions were being so fickle. He knew things were precarious in the Lanes as of late, but he was so tired of spending his weekends holed up in their apartment.

“Viktor – “

“Please!” he burst. “Please? Nothing will happen. We will not draw any attention to ourselves. Enforcers won’t bother us. Please? I want to go out. I want to find things for my boat.”

A heavy sigh blew through Katya’s lips as she hung her head. Viktor watched as the fingers on her hip tightened, the skin on her knuckles pulling white. His lower lips tucked itself under his incisors as he waited for her verdict.

“We can go – “ Viktor sat up and gasped “ – but if there are more than two Enforcers skulking about, we will come home.”

Her brother nodded emphatically, unwilling to press his luck. Katya’s eyes did not soften, and he tried to not let it bother him. He turned back to his notebook, pretending that his sister was just as excited as he was.

After a beat, Katya wiped her hands on the rag hung over the kitchen faucet before stalking over to her coat, hung on the peg by the door. Surprised, Viktor looked up as she whipped the garment around herself.

“What are you – “

“I need to go take care of something,” she answered, shaking the collar out around her head. “If I am not back before nine, get ready for bed. Yes?” He nodded slowly. “Good. I love you. I’ll be back soon. Do not open the door for anyone.”

Viktor’s brow crumpled as she whisked out of their home. The sharp sound of the door clattering into its frame echoed in his ears. It vibrated against his bones. It inspired loneliness to press against his chest. And frustration to bubble beneath his skin.

Katya kept her promise and they visited the scrap pit the following day. Relief sagged through Viktor’s body when he counted only two Enforcers in the immediate area. Eagerly, he scurried toward the bent and barbed metal gates. His eagerness was quelled as he saw a small pile of candles and trinkets piled against a section of fence a few feet away. There was a framed picture of a young girl leaned against half-melted pillar candles. Dread swiped a cold finger over his stomach. He ignored it and pressed onward. Clumsily, he sat before the nearest tangled heap of metal, and began scouring through it.

Katya lingered behind him, arms crossed over her chest, eyes continually scanning their surroundings. Her lack of interest made him feel self-conscious. A small voice in his head sneered that he shouldn’t have pushed for this. But when his hand landed on a large, uncorroded gear, that voice was drowned out by excitement.

“Kat! Look! I think this will be the perfect size for the motor’s main driver!”

Her head snapped back to look at him. Her eyes were wide and blank, confirmation that she was not actually there with him. She blinked and her gaze focused on the cog in his hand. She smiled.

“Very good. Are you going to put it in your satchel?”

He nodded. “It would be great if I could find another one. Or, at least, one of similar size. Will you help me look?”

The small pull at the corner of her mouth sent a bolt of shame through his chest. But before his face could fully fall, Katya knelt beside him. She held her hand out, and he gingerly placed the gear in her palm.

Inspecting it closely, she asked, “Do the teeth need to be the same, or just the size of the gear?”

“Ideally both.”

Together, they dug through piles of metal. Just beyond the scrap pit’s ridge, Augmentation Alley smoked and burned, its forges in full-force. When the wind picked up, Katya instructed Viktor to pull his scarf over his mouth and nose. The boy grimaced, but complied. He was already sweating. The day and activity proving too warm for the coat and scarf Katya had been insistent on. But his annoyance waned as they continued to sift through scraps together. Every now and then, she would present a particularly interesting looking twist of metal or clean gear, and ask for his opinion.

Slowly, carefully, ease dared to flicker in Viktor’s chest. The interaction between him and his sister leaning much more familiar than they had in several weeks. He held to it tightly, even when they would shift to a new pile, and her eyes would lift and the energy of her presence slipped for a moment. When she hunkered down again, Viktor would sneak a peek in the direction she had looked, expecting to see an Enforcer. There was none. Instead, a slender silhouette swaggered back-and-forth just beyond the scrap pit’s fence.

For some reason, that pricked at Viktor’s nerves more than any Enforcer.

Comments, reblogs, and recommendations keep me and other author's motiviational fires burning! We love to hear what y'all are thinking.

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Coming Up Next: Bone pays the Children a visit

Next Chapter

Taglist: @pinkrose1422 @dreamyonahill @sand-sea-and-fable @truthandadare @altered-delta

[enby--ghost]

I'm making a new post because I think this is genuinely a predatory practice under the guise of stopping AI

Today I received an email from youtube stating this

This seems to tell me that I am losing access to a handful of features such as pinning comments on my videos or embedding links in the descriptions of my videos for one of 2 reasons. Either I don't have sufficient channel history or I have violated a community guideline.

To my knowledge, I haven't broken any guidelines, as I have received no warnings. As for channel history, I have been using the same account since July 7 of 2013 and began regularly uploading to this channel on August 30 of 2024.

So, I decided to look into this further, and this is what I have found.

Under the settings of youtube studio in the "Future Eligibility" section, I was able to find the full list of what these "Advance features" really are.

This includes things such as appealing content ID claims, daily upload amounts, testing different thumbnails, and even your eligibility to apply for monetization.

Now, I can fully understand putting these systems in place to stop the increase in AI channels and content. However, I do not know if this is even the case, as this is what one person told me in a discord server I talked about this in. So I may very well be wrong. However, if this not related to stopping AI, then this is even worse.

In order to access the advance features, you need to do one of the following

either take a 6 second video of yourself, take a photo of your ID or build 2 months worth of channel history. Now, we already established that my channel has existed and been uploading longer than 2 months, so this must mean 2 months from NOW.

Now, while that is annoying, but the other 2 options are downright predatory. They want a photo of your ID that they say they will keep until one of the following.

Either 2 years has passed

Or you meet the 2 months of channel history.

So this means Youtube will have a photo of YOUR ID for a MINIMUM of 2 months.

Now you might be thinking, "Well why not choose the video instead."

Because that is just as sinister when you look into what exactly they are requesting.

They want you to follow the prompts you are given to get a full view of your face. Something that, at least to me, seems very similar to collecting facial information to build a database. Especially because they want you to do things like looking up or down, therefore getting a better look at your face.

This is BEYOND unfair to small channels. This is downright predatory behavior. Under no circumstances should youtube be requesting anyone's ID or videos of their face in order to prove anything. At BEST this is a horrible attempt to root out AI channels and content in order to get rid of them. However, with the current climate of America and the interests of big businesses as a whole, I find it much more likely they are trying to gather more personal data from it's users. For what purpose, I don't know, but this is disgusting nonetheless.

Please, I know I am just a nobody online, but this NEEDS to be seen by more people.

This cannot be tolerated.

[the-delta-42]

Remember

Remember

“Don’t look away,” Growled Ganondorf, “you-”

“You don’t remember.” Said the Hylian, Link, frowning at Ganondorf.

“What?” Sneered Ganondorf, livid at being interrupted.

“You don’t remember.” Repeated Link, sighing with the Sages staring at him in confusion, “We’ve been through this time and time and time again. Since the dawn of the world and across the timelines. We know each other, more than you think.”

“I don’t know what your blathering about.” Snarled Ganondorf, as Link quietly pulled a spring from a Zonai capsule.

Link sighed, “Okay, let’s see what you do remember, because I don’t want to fight someone who doesn’t know why he’s the biggest prick in the world.”

Ganondorf went to grab his sword, when the ‘sword of legend’ flashed.

“Calm down, Fi, we’re still going to kill him.” Dismissed Link, frowning at Ganondorf, “You’re still going to die, do you remember being stabbed in the head by a child in green?”

Ganondorf stared at Link, getting another sigh, “Obviously not, how about nearly being disembowelled by an angsty looking wolf?”

Ganondorf just unsheathed his sword.

“Alright, how about drawing your sword from your servant’s chest and vanishing into another plane?” Said Link, drawing the Master Sword.

Ganondorf froze, suddenly finding himself in a throne room launching an orb of energy at a young man in green, while a princess hung in a pink crystal suspended above them. He then felt a searing pain in his chest, the man in green looked different, vastly different, but he could tell it was the same person.

“You’re starting to remember,” Mused Link, readying for the impending battle, “good.”

Ganondorf felt himself getting up from the ground, the man in green different once again, glaring up at him. He glanced at his hand, freezing at the sight of a triangle on the back of it. He shook his head and snarled at Link, “Get out of my head, you welp!”

Link dodged the swing, parrying the blade away from him.

Ganondorf was at the top of a castle, water pouring down around him, fighting two children, a princess aiming a bow at him, while a boy in green launched himself into the hair and ramming his sword in his forehead.

Ganondorf yelled, throwing himself at Link and the Sages.

R

“Link?” Asked Riju, looking at him as they examined Ganondorf’s lifeless body, “Two questions, how did he turn back? I thought the dragon-ifying thing was permanent, and what were you talking about back there?”

“Just some old history Rij.” Dismissed Link, looking at the back of Ganondorf’s right hand, “Things between him and I just span more than one lifetime.”

Zelda prodded Ganondorf’s eye with a stick.

“Zel, I’m waving his hand around, I’m sure he’s dead.” Protested Link, as he accidentally nudged the hilt of a broken sword. Ganondorf’s body twitched, getting a scream from some of the assembled crowd and an arrow to the eye from Tulin.

“For the love of Din, he’s already dead!” Groaned Link, as Tulin looked at him.

“He twitched.”

“He twi- Of course he twitched,” Yelled Link, grabbing the hilt of the broken sword, “He’s got a sword embedded in his nervous system!”

Ganondorf’s body twitched with each movement of the sword.

[lofi-writes]

🛠️✨ Welcome to Stories of a Stray

Hi hi! I’m Lofiriell von Reverie, but you can just call me Lofi, a chaotic story gremlin fueled by chill beats, coffee and bread, found family angst, and too many emotions about fictional characters.

Welcome to my cozy little corner of the internet, where I share:

✍️ Original fiction (mostly my main project Eyes of Novality).

📚 Fanfiction about shows/anime/manga I'm currently obsessing over.

💭 Worldbuilding notes, character breakdowns, lore drops.

🧃 Occasional memes, chaos, and soft screaming into the void :)

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🌌 About Eyes of Novality

“What if the gods weren’t gods at all, but eldritch—and one decided to hijack your brain, ruin your life, and attract way too many government agents? And somehow, in the middle of the chaos, you end up with a family in the last people you expected? Yeah, wild.” - Kasey

Eyes of Novality is a science-fantasy novel set in Novality City, a futuristic metropolis where the sky-high elites of Aerith rule over the struggling underground district of Lurith. In the shadows of this world, remnants of the past—eldritch beings once worshipped as gods—have begun to stir again.

🌀 The Core Premise

Kasey Collins is a scrappy orphan from Lurith who just wants to fix his broken hoverboard, avoid trouble, and prove he’s worth more than the world says he is. But when he accidentally awakens an ancient Eye embedded in his forehead, marked as a vessel for something far older than humanity, he’s thrown into a war he never asked to be part of. Hunted by factions, feared by elites, and reluctantly protected by a tired soldier who didn’t sign up to be a father, Kasey must survive in a city where eldritch gods are real—and they might not be the real monsters after all.

💜 Why read this?

✔ One feral orphan, one overworked soldier, and one eyeball-shaped eldritch nightmare.

✔ Kasey wanted a hoverboard, not a judgmental god sharing his consciousness. Too bad.

✔ Found family, but with more sarcasm, trauma, and poorly cooked meals.

✔ An ancient Eye has opinions. Kasey does not care. His guardian definitely cares.

✔ No prophecies, no destiny—just bad luck and worse decisions.

🌟 What to expect:

✨ Eldritch entities with unsettlingly judgmental stares.

✨ A tech gremlin MC who bites off more than he can chew.

✨ Exploding hoverboards and cyberpunk chaos.

✨ Soft, painful family bonds (no one will admit).

✨ And one exasperated soldier dad who really, really needs a nap.

📖 Where to read?

✒️ Right now there is no official publication date since the story is still a work-in-progress.

✒️ I want to write up a buffer of chapters so that you as a potential reader can get consistent chapter releases!

✒️ I'm planning on releasing Eyes of Novality on Ream.

✒️ There will be a link available further down on this post and also under the page "Read My Stories" which you can find here.

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🔖 Tags to Follow:

🔹 #Eyes of Novality -> Used for sorting all Eyes of Novality related posts.

🔹#EoN updates → Main story updates! Stay in the loop on chapters, announcements, and general chaos.

🔹 #EoN lore → Worldbuilding, occasional secrets, and interesting Novality facts. (Some things Kasey should not know, yet here we are.)

🔹 #EoN characters → Art, vibes, quotes, and unhinged character rambles. (Expect a lot of suffering.)

🔹#EoN gremlin files -> Fun small snippets of character interactions.

🔹 #lofi-writes fanfic → My side chaos aka fanfiction nonsense. (It will be a time.)

🔹 #writing rambles → Me aggressively yelling at my own WIPs, struggling, and occasionally dropping fun ideas.

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💌 Let’s Be Mutuals!

This blog is 50% emotion, 30% gremlin chaos, and 20% an unhinged music library that swings between hauntingly ethereal ballads, gut-punching battle anthems, and guilty pleasure pop bangers you’d scream in the car at 3 AM.

Eyes of Novality is a work in progress, meaning you’ll get live worldbuilding updates, character deep-dives, fresh chapter drops, and plenty of unfiltered writer struggles. Feel free to send asks, scream about characters, or tag me in things—I love talking shop, sharing weird ideas, and hyping up fellow writers. Whether it’s deep lore dives, writing struggles, or just chaotic rambling, I’m here for it.

The world is still being built, but you’re welcome to stay. 💜

Grab some tea, settle in, and watch the story take shape. 🍵

. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

🔗Links to My Works

AO3 - The main place for fanfiction!✨

Wattpad - Alternative place for fanfiction and some original works.🏵️

Ream - Where I plan to release original works. Also a place if you wanna get special inside information and early access to stuff by supporting me :D (no link yet so hang in there)💜

[lutethebodies]

OC Deep Dives: Olini Cuel (Part 2!)

Tagged by @trappedinafantasy37 (whose OC deep dive is here), who rolled a 4 on the LTB-Tav-d8. That result yields a second helping of my ranger Olinitza "Olini" Cuel, in what we'll call "Horizon Walker 2: Ethereal Step Boogaloo." Images are mostly from BG3's endgame because she finished today—since September 2023, only my 4th time and only my 2nd Tav to do so! For more about Olini, see some links (deep dives, mood board, Minthara's judgment, Tav Tuesday). I'll also open this up for whomever wants to do it after me. Dive deep below the cut:

Phobias and other fears: I mentioned in a previous deep dive how Olini might be the one Tav of mine who fears nothing. A few days later I snapped this image of her staring down Ansur, so I think I'm gonna hold her to that utter fearlessness.

Pet peeves: Olini hates waiting. She's impatient with, for example, the slow slog of institutional bureaucracy. Part of why she takes on the thankless task of repeatedly petitioning authority for justice is that she hates the idea of procedural roadblocks preventing essential action. She's definitely not a "respect the process" person, which I'll grant is a weird trait for someone with an investigator background, but remember—just because a character has a given background doesn't have to mean they're good at every aspect of it.

3 items found in their bedroom: A small spyglass, which she keeps as a (usually failed) reminder to look before she leaps. A sending stone, one of a pair she shares with her younger brother Teya (a gleefully petty criminal and Olini's only living relative). An insignia of rank from her old armed forces unit, in which she served undercover while investigating their alleged war crimes and from which she was expelled once her prying was discovered (she usually affixes it to whatever wall is closest to the privy).

First thing they notice in a person: Guile or lack thereof. Just because she's a less-than-great investigator doesn't mean she can't read people effectively. That high ranger WIS score's gotta mean something, right?

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance? I'm gonna say 8 or 9, which is higher than most of my characters, and which I base on the fact that (as mentioned in a previous deep dive) she's the only one of my characters who's almost died. Seriously, she was down to 2 HP and still kicking. Olini can take it, folks.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Yes, but as a ranger she's trained herself to harness that and use it as the situation requires. Also, as a teleportation-specialist Horizon Walker, she can do "flight" a bit easier than most, so "fight" usually comes first. I did say she could take a hit or two.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? As mentioned above, Olini's younger brother is her only surviving blood relative. Her mother died in a self-inflicted magical engineering accident when Olini was a preteen and her father (who was also a ranger) went missing on the frontier when she was a young child. I know the whole "parents are long-gone" thing is a background cliché but I don't care. Read a little more about them in the accent answer below.

What animal represents them best? You'd think a speedy one, right? I'm not so sure. I'd instead maybe choose an elephant, for their deep memory rather than their size. Olini never forgets anything, and she can hold a grudge for decades. She can also tank if she needs to, so maybe that tracks a bit.

What is a smell that they dislike? Perfume of any kind. To Olini perfume smells like wealth, privilege, arrogance, and denial. It may or may not actually be any of those things in a given situation, of course, but she's experienced that conflation enough to have it embedded in her psyche.

Have they broken any bones? I laughed at everyone's answers that said "yes, but never their own bones" to this one (because yeah, that's funny!), but as someone who's broken my fair share, I've gotta give Olini some too. So how about her fingers/knuckles, say once or twice, from decking someone extra hard for abusing their power?

How would a stranger likely describe them? Depends on the stranger. Authority figures would either decry her as disturbingly loud and uncouth or sidle up to her as obdurate but useful. Powerless people she's defended might admire her as righteous. Her companions would call her stubborn to the point of foolishness, but also commendably comfortable in her own skin. Shadowheart wishes she knew herself as well as Olini knows Olini.

Are they a night owl or morning bird? I think being a half-drow (on her mother's side) qualifies her as a night owl here.

What is a flavour they hate and a flavour they love? Olini can't handle rich or creamy foods. It's like her gut is (needlessly) prejudiced against what it feels are snobby upper-class foods. Conversely, she loves and almost craves salt—which I'll justify with her hobby below. Food is fuel; a gourmand she ain't.

Do they have any hobbies? Yes, in a previous post I mentioned she's an avid runner. Regular exercise keeps both body and mind healthy, which I've found to be true and so she has too.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Probably with embarrassment, which is (if all her friends are there) quickly replaced by happiness. For someone so superficially grouchy her inner loyalty always wins out when friends are involved. Individual relationships she chooses (companions, friends, friends of friends) mean much more to her than obligatory or quasi-obligatory ones she's saddled with (work or, often, family).

Do they like to wear jewelry? Nah, it feels ostentatious and a little like deadweight to her—but she'll certainly gift jewels to friends or lovers who do enjoy it. However, less-showy ornamentation such as leather or stone accessories doesn't really feel like "jewelry" to her, so well-made stuff like that she can appreciate and wear.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Neat, because when she's writing investigation reports for higher-ups who may or may not have time to read them, legibility is one less reason for those folks to dismiss her findings. They may ignore her anyway, but it won't be for sloppy reasons.

What are the two emotions they feel the most? Skepticism and bravery. Skepticism: Olini's been disappointed by so many things that she was taught (via nature or nurture) would never do that, so skepticism (and at worst, suspicion) is second nature to her. That can cut both ways—beneficial when she's solving a mystery or problematic when she allows it to become knee-jerk cynicism. Bravery: Her sense of righting wrongs is strong enough to overcome anything. Like I said, she fears nothing.

Do they have a favourite fabric? Leather, canvas and denim for utility/outerwear; linen and wool for everything else. She's a passable seamstress, but usually only for mending rents and tears—not for anything stylish or artistic. Not that there's anything wrong with sartorial specialization, mind, but like with food, she's not a connoisseur.

What kind of accent do they have? In BG3, Olini's speech has been Baldurianized from years spent with the Fist (both in town and abroad in Chult). In childhood, though, she spoke Common with a wildly irregular accent, a result of her immediate family's ad-hoc combination of Calishite (via her human father), Drowic (via her mother, a native of Guallidurth beneath the Lands of Intrigue), and Undercommon.

As always, thanks for the ask! Roll that LTB-d8 again if the muse moves you.

[aeolianblues]

Goddd, love my luck that whenever I start up some project that is actually important to me and that I'd want to do well, SOMEHOW all my links and redirects get broken. No clue how. I had the most timepass wordpress blog in the world back in my teens, its SEO is so tip-top that you could google certain snippets from it and it would still show up as the top result. I had a secret poetry blog I hid from everyone bc cringe right. It's still the first search result when you look it up. I was like 'say what you will, wordpress' SEO works.'

Then I made the music magazine! You could literally put the entire site URL into google and you'll never find it. You might even find tumblr posts linking to it! My tumblr is literally set to 'discourage search' bc I don't want IRL people finding me here, but what do you know! SEO on it is TOPS. You can find the IG account telling people to go read it, though lord knows why Instagram decided links were anathema and outlawed them. But crucially. You cannot go to the site from Google. i.e. the way most people GET to things. (I asked in the wordpress forums, no one can help with it. The Search Engine Moves In Mysterious Ways.)

Also my radio show podcast is on Acast but CANNOT BE FOUND BY ACAST LISTENERS. Incredible. The internal discovery DOES recommend my show to people who like similar stuff automatically, but the link is then BROKEN. Fun times. They've found my show but can't listen to it. I've asked customer support and heard chirping crickets.

So idk, I'm just fucking annoyed at my luck. These were the things that mattered to me. These were the projects I want to like, build a career on. It's so crushing that it's happened twice. I don't know what to say. The discovery section is so important for a small journalist (media producer? Music journalist? 'Creator'? Bleh) to be able to find any audience at all.

You know what's so interesting in light of all that, is how much being on Tumblr has oddly helped me 'grow'. It's sort of just been about finding likeminded people and we all just enable each other, don't we? Surprisingly, me doing no promotion at all has been the thing that's found me the best music fellas. Though obviously I understand why bigger shows cannot hope to build a sustainable following off of that.

Anyway, I'll be here ranting, I'm just going to try and polish up a few more articles that no one can google and I'll try and send them to a real magazine and see if I can write for them in my town. They get federal grants, so I can try and pull them up over their lack of coverage of our city's music scene. let's see.

In the meanwhile, if you are someone who has previously seen and liked my music takes, maybe just organically follow along?

Here's the correct link to the podcast, it's available on a bunch of streaming platforms. There's a show Spotify playlist (and Bandcamp links if you want to buy an album) for every artist played on the show, and the part of the show I can include in podcast form (copyrigiht stuff around recorded music prevents the actual songs from being in there) is centred around telling you all about the fantastic artists I play, same as I do here but in audio format once a week. Check it out if you like what I yap about here.

Embedded link if you listen on Spotify

And well, there's the music magazine that you won't find on Google. We'll have to word-of-moth it. I've also got @soundslivemagazine here, which, would you believe it? Shows up on Google.

Here's the magazine

[floq]

I was modifying my bio and something happened and now embedded links don’t work anymore and I have no idea how to fix it :c why is this website so broken

[tojisun]

Yeah I was wondering why I count tap on your links it’s very confusing…

no literally like 😭 there was this video i was tryna watch bc op embedded the link in one of their sentences and istg i thought my phone screen was broken so i was fighting with it so bad

[kafkaoftherubble]

破蛋日快乐！你的礼物是：为什么龙会戏珠？//

Happy Hatching Anniversary! Your present is: why do Longs hold pearls?

@secondhanddragon So, you wanna know why?

To be honest, while I was trawling for information, I realized that not even that many Chinese sites talk about the pearls. Such might be the nature of folklore—everyone gives their own interpretations, which are then spread orally. Tough to find "academic sources." And of course, wonky citations with broken links and poor reference points are always a hindrance.

"神龙戏珠" (The Divine Dragon Playing with Its Pearl) is a motif that has a few variations. It could be a single dragon (单龙戏珠), two dragons (二龙戏珠), three dragons (三龙戏珠), and even multiple dragons chasing one single pearl (多龙戏珠) [1].

In this figure, you can see five dragons chasing a single pearl. [1]

-------

#1: The Pearl... Really Is a Pearl!

Pearls are formed by living shell mollusks—which are members of the "aquatic tribes" [2]. They are hard to come by, lustrous, pretty as fuck, and very beloved in Chinese culture.

Chinese dragons, unlike the Western ones, are associated with water, right? That's because Long is "the king of the ocean" and it "rules over all aquatic tribes" [2]. If your dime-a-dozen clam could produce something as precious as a pearl, why can't the King itself produce the most beautiful and precious pearl that triumphs them all, huh?

This appears to be the genesis of the concept of the "Pearl." But naturally, as time goes on, more and more meanings are embedded in it!

----------

#2: The Pearl as an Egg

Long is a chimera of sorts. It's an amalgamation of, inter alia, a fish, a crocodile, a snake, a boar, a horse, an ox, a lizard, and a deer [1] [2]. Fishes and the reptilian reps in this group lay eggs. The crocodile's egg is even kinda big—way larger than a pearl.

Do you see? The egg is seen as a pearl and vice versa [1] [2]. Eggs are the source of life for crocodiles and snakes, and therefore, egg-pearl represents life in dragon arts [2]. When the dragon is "playing with its pearl," it's actually playing with "life." This motif embodies the dragon's status as a protector and caretaker of life [2].

Almost like a parent would...

---------

#3: The Pearl as a Symbol of Love for the Dragons' Children

Now, some might think that all Longs are male, as the mythical creature symbolizing women is often the Fenghuang (and so one might think that all Fenghuangs are females). That's not true. Dragons and Fenghuang both have two, uh, sexes.

This figure shows two dragons "playing" with a pearl. [1]

The "Two Dragons Chasing a Pearl" motif is popular in classical Chinese artwork. One of the dragons is male, and the other is female. The Pearl symbolizes egg/life, as stated in #2, which means the Pearl also comes to symbolize "a child" [1] [2].

In other words, Papa Dragon and Mama Dragon are playing with—and stealthily protecting—Anya Pearl.

An important note that isn't stated in any of my citations, but is nonetheless relevant: Chinese people may call themselves 龙的传人, "The Dragon's Heir." It means—as mythical origin goes—the Chinese people identify as "the children of the Long." Now connect this to what you learned in #3.

-------

#4: The Pearl as the Sun

Sometimes the Pearl is ON FIRE!!!

This is especially predominant in the aforementioned "Two Dragons Chasing a Pearl" motif. The Pearl looks more like a fireball than an actual pearl. Below the Pearl, then, one may find a depiction of the sea.

"The Pearl leaps out from the ocean." What does that connotate? The rising sun [2]!

Now, what does it have to do with the dragon? Well, have a little detour.

The Four Symbols (四象)

You might have already heard of this, but in case you didn't: each cardinal direction has a "guardian."

东方青龙 // Azure Dragon of the East

西方白虎 // White Tiger of the West

南方朱雀 // Vermillion Bird of the South

北方玄武 // Black Warrior (or Black Tortoise) of the North

They represent more than just directions—they have their own traits, backstories, virtues, etc.

Who's the Guardian of the East? The Azure Dragon!

Now, drawing our discussion back to the Pearl, you can see why the dragon chases after it now, right? The Pearl is the Sun; it rises from the East. The Guardian of the East plays/chases after it as an emblem of ancient Chinese worship of the Sun [1] [2].

-------

#5: The Pearl and the Dragons Representing Chinese Aesthetics [1]

Chinese art loves "wholeness" and "pair."

You often find a pair of things in Chinese culture: a pair of Door God, a pair of Chinese duilian (poetry of sorts; used for blessings and wishes), the likes. Chinese culture also really loves things like the full moon, because "roundness" symbolizes the whole, unity, and consummation.

Two dragons form a pair. In front of them, an orb—a round, whole object. Hence, the motif is well-beloved as it features two of the Chinese culture's favorite aesthetics [1].

Kinda hard to tell, but two dragons are playing with the pearl here.

------------

And that concludes the answer to your hundred-year enigma, haha! To the best of my ability, anyway. I sure hope it's been a blast to read.

More importantly, happy birthday, @autistic-beanmonster2!

I have been saving this up for a ramble just for you, but I couldn't find the time to write it. I'm sorry; I really planned to show this to you the moment the time struck 12 am in your time zone through the power of "scheduled post," but... let's just say I've been hit by a hindrance. Oops!

Well, does it matter if I'm just a bit late?

Thank you for reading my ramble!

-------------------

Citations:

神龙戏珠，所戏珠子为何？("The Divine Dragon Plays with Its Pearl; What is that Pearl?") by 徐崇良工作室, essay on Sohu.com [in Chinese]

龙的嘴里为什么要含着珠子 (Why does the dragon have a pearl in its mouth") answered by an anonymous user on wenwen.sogou.com [in Chinese]

The question that produced this ramble is originally found here.

[silentprincessandsweethibiscus]

Four Minus One: Chapter 5: More Questions Than Answers

There is one thing every Link does and does well, sticking their nose into other people's business, and with Four missing and Vaati to blame, it was only inevitable that their snooping turned towards the smallest Link. Oh boy this chapter took me way longer than i anticipated. sorry about the wait guys. that being said, i am pleased with how it came out, and though i am admittedly still not out of the hole i dug myself into with the slight change to the plot last chapter put me it, i do have a direction now. so enjoy this one, and at least for the time being i think i can safely say we are back to our regularly scheduled saturday chapters!

Vio cursed, jumping forward to protect their new brother from Vaati. They had let their fear and confusion freeze them for too long, and Sky had been hurt as a result. Vio would not let Vaati and his nonsense take another person they cared about. Sure, the last time they fought Vaati one-on-one they where still just Link, but with or without their siblings to back them up, Vio still had new tricks up their sleeves.

As the fight went on, however, it became clear that Vaati did as well. Vio was struggling to get an advantage over the mage, while also keeping him away from his unconscious friend. After one blow got them to close for comfort Vio decided it was time to change their tactic. It was easy enough to fake getting captured by Vaati, the mage was to self-absorbed for his own good. Vio was a bit disappointed to have dropped their sword in the process, but at least it would be here with Sky and the others.

“What a shame, I really thought you’d put up a bigger fight, Violet.” The mage laughed, not even trying to hide his gloating. That was fine with Vio, they would knock him back down a few pegs as soon as Sky was no longer at risk. The wind began to pick up as he spoke again. “Now to dispose of the other hero, and you and I can discuss business in peace back at the lair.”

There was a flash of darkness, like a blanket quickly being tossed over their heads, followed by a tugging feeling in Vio’s gut, and the clearing disappeared from under them.

Sky woke with a throb in his head and a pit in his gut, and as he sat up he remembered why. The area of the woods he was on the edge of looked more like a clearing now, and despite the clear signs of a fight, it was eerily quiet. The sun had fully set now, and if the rest of the group hadn’t been searching for him and Four already, they certainly were now.

Four.

Sky jumped up, needing to pause for a moment as his head throbbed and his vision spun. Hyrule would definitely need to check him for a concussion, but first he had to find Four. They had to be nearby. The world tilted every time Sky moved too fast, but he pushed forward, following the pattern of destruction left from Four and Vaati’s fight, desperately searching for any sign of his friend, calling their name the whole time. It felt like it took hours to follow the path to its end, but judging by the nearly stagnant position of the moon it took maybe half an hour.

Someone finally responded to his calls as he reached the fight’s end, but not the someone he needed to answer. It sounded like Twilight. Twilight was not Four. Not the owner of the Four Sword. Discarded in a pile of broken branches. Tip slightly embedded in the ground as if it had fallen from a distance. Amethyst gem sparkling in the moonlight.

Sky was only aware that the others entered the new clearing when he felt Hyrules hands gently pressing on either side of his temples. Sugar sweet magic flowed around his senses, and the less his head throbbed the more he felt the tears flowing down his face. Sky was waiting for one of the others to scold him for the two of them leaving. Or for getting hurt. Or for failing to protect their sibling. He knew he deserved it. “Sky,” All he got was Hyrule, very softly, as if fae was afraid Sky would break at the question. “What happened?”

And maybe Hyrule was right to be worried, because as soon as fae broke the silence a sob wracked through Sky’s body, and he collapsed, Warriors jumping forward to help Hyrule move him gently to a sitting position. “They thought it was in trouble. He lied to them.”

“Who did Four think was in trouble, Sky?” Twilight spoke barely louder than Hyrule, worried about Sky’s possible concussion. “Who lied to them?”

“Sunrise. It was Vaati. He tricked Four into thinking Sunrise was in trouble.” And the others all understood now, why the two had left town without them. Four had been given hope that his mysterious lost love was alive, but in trouble. That was enough to drive any of them out into the open.

“Warriors and Hyrule, bring Sky back to the inn, the rest of us are going to search for any clues to their whereabouts.” Time got to business quickly, setting the remaining Link’s up in groups.

Sky had no intentions of fighting them on this. He knew Time was right, and clocked that he likely had a concussion the second he woke up, but he did push past them a bit to hand the Master Sword to Twilight. “Hopefully, if she’s up to it, she can lead you to them. Or at least some kind of clue.”

Twilight nodded, taking the sword from Sky with a determined look. “We will find them Sky.”

Sky simply nodded and turned to follow Hyrule and Warriors back into town.

It was just after sunrise when the others returned, notably without their missing Link. Several of the younger Links looked like they had been told they would be getting heart containers for their birthday, but Twilight looked less enthused.

“We found them!” Wind darted in the room. “Well. Kinda. Twilight knows where they are!”

“This is not as good of news as the sailor makes it out to be.” The older Link sighed. “Yes, I am fairly certain I know where Four is, but, I’ll be honest, I have no idea how to get them back.”

Warriors raised an eyebrow at that, having looked up from the book he had been reading while the three confined to town had waited, when the others entered. “What do you mean?”

“Its a very long story.” Twilight started.

“We know where they are. That’s a start.” Time interjected. “We were all up all night. Everyone should get some sleep, and then in the afternoon we will head to where they are, and hopefully with all our expertise we can figure out a way to get them back.”

With some grumbling the Links all made their way to their rooms. Sky was bunked with Hyrule and Legend already, so luckily didn’t have to move. Once the others all left Legend walked over to Sky and handed him back the Master Sword. “Here. I don’t know what she did, but she sure led Twilight right to the answer.”

Sky smiled. “Thank you. Who has the Four Sword?”

“I do.” Legend paused, and checked that the door was closed, before dropping his voice. “Don’t tell the others, but I know what she does. I won’t tell, its not my story, but the magic in her. I don’t trust someone who doesn’t know about it to handle her.”

Hyrule hummed in agreement from fear’s spot on the other side of the room. “I donno what she can do, but that is some powerful magic she’s got. Probably best not to let someone unprepared touch her.”

Sky just nodded in agreement. At his silence Legend frowned. “Alright, spill. What’s eating you, bird brain?”

Sky paused for a moment before answering with a sigh. “Nothing I think I can say.”

“How do you mean?” Hyrule’s head was tilted in confusion.

“Just, some of the things Vaati said. I need answers to, and I think Four’s the only one who can give them.” He paused again, before mumbling. “Unless we somehow find Sh-Sunrise before we find Four.”

There was a questioning hum from Hyrule’s side of the room, and Legend raised an eyebrow. “Sh? Sky, do you know Sunrise’s name?”

Hyrule perked up at that, grin on fear’s face. “No way! When did they tell you? What is it!”

“They didn’t. Vaati did.” Sky looked pointedly at both of them. “And frankly, I think I understand now why Four was keeping it to them self.”

Legend sat on the bed, flopping his stuff down haphazardly, though Sky noted the Four Sword was still secure on his back. “You know. There are rumors in my time, if you know where to look, about the hero of the Four Sword.” Much gentler, he took the Four Sword off and placed it down. “You can never be sure how true these kinds of stories are, passed down as they have been, but there are a few that I believe to be true. Especially now that I’ve met them.” Hyrule had moved over to the other two, and Sky raised an eyebrow. “There’s a temple I traversed on my first adventure, called the Palace of the Four Sword. I looked into it sometime after my second adventure, and while we know it was built to keep the Four Sword safe, the stories are a bit muddled on who exactly built it. One theory suggests it was Shadow Link. It’s usually brushed off, on account of Shadow having been a known enemy to the Hero of the Four Sword on at least one occasion, however, some people claim-”

“It switched sides.” Sky cut him off. Legend grinned and Hyrule turned fae’s confused expression to Sky now. “Vaati seemed real pissed about that.”

“Four convinced their Shadow to change sides?” Hyrule looked amazed. “Sunrise is a Shadow Link?”

Legend chuckled. “Fours dating a Shadow Link.”

“Engaged.” This time it was Legend’s turn to look surprised. “Vaati called Shadow Four’s fiancee. Well, technically he called Four Shadow’s fiancee, but you know, same deal.”

“I know Four says they're not as young as the look,” Hyrule spoke up, “But really?”

Sky nodded. “Really. That’s like, one of the few things Vaati said that Four didn’t try to defend or dispute in any way. And honestly, I can’t see a reason why he would lie about that anyways.”

“How did they even end up in a relationship with their Shadow anyways?” Hyrule’s curiosity won out and fae tried to dig further.

“No idea.” Legend shrugged. “Even the scholars who agree that it was Shadow disagree on how the two came to be together. Some think Shadow became enamored with Link while watching their journey to save Hyrule, some think it grew tired of taking orders, some think it was a well-timed speech by the hero. Hylia, some even claim Shadow was the one who convinced Four to join it.”

Sky raised an eyebrow at that, and Hyrule let out a noise that was almost a laugh. “Somehow, I don’t think it was that last one. Though I will say, this does explain why Four knows Abyssal.”

Sky’s face made a few odd turns as he processed the new information. “Oh, i didn’t even think of that!”

“Honestly, that was one of my first clues that the rumors about Shadow where true.” Legend shrugged. “Rumors claim Shadow Link, Princess Zelda, and some sweet girl they met on one of their quests. I started to figure it was Shadow almost as soon as they started talking about it.”

“It could,” Hyrule frowned, “I mean, it could still be one of the others as well. If Shadow really is gone.”

“Eh, I’d agree with you,” Legend shook his head, “But Sky and Four dealt with Vaati today, and he was supposed to be dead too.”

Sky nodded in agreement. “Yea, with everything else going on, it’s gotta be possible for us to help Four get Shadow back.”

“Yea! Definitely!” Hyrule grinned in excitement for a moment, before deflating. “Although, sounds like we still have to find a way to get Four back first.”

“Twilight already knows where they are,” Time spoke from the doorway, “Let's have some faith.”

All three of the gossiping Links jumped at the sound of his voice, and it was Legend who spoke up first. “Fuck! A little warning old man!”

“How much did you hear?” Hyrule inquired.

“Enough to know you three should go back to calling it sunrise. You all seem remarkably relaxed about this.”

“I trust Four.” Fae responded with a shrug.

“Me too.” Sky added. “If they trust sunrise, then so do I.”

“Who am I to throw stones.” Legend glared at Time, daring him to say something negative. “Ravio is from Lowrule, he is technically a dark world version of myself in a ways.”

Time nodded. “I also trust Four’s judgment. That being said, not all of our companions may feel the same about this particular topic, so I think it’d be best to keep it to ourselves.” After waiting for a nod from all three of them, Time smiled. “Good. Now then. Stop gossiping about our missing friend and get some sleep.”

“We were not gossiping.” Legend challenged. “Something was bothering Sky. I was making sure he was okay.” He paused. “And comparing notes.”

Even Sky raised an eyebrow at that. “I don’t think you’re helping our point Lege.”

“Eh, probably not. Whatever. We’re going to sleep now.” He shrugged as he got up to usher the older hero back out of their room. Hyrule chuckled a bit behind him as the other two got ready for bed. The next thing he said was just above a whisper, but he knew all four of the others heard him anyways. “Tomorrow we find a way to get Four back. When that’s done, Sunrise. And after that, we go kick Dark Link’s ass all the way back to Demise.”

[galaxicide]

GALAXICIDE : an independent and sequels critical ( not hating ) writing blog for BEN SOLO / KYLO REN from STAR WARS. ● highly headcanon based ● divergent from movie canon ● embedded in GOTHIC LITERATURE themes and tropes ● iconless ● est 22 / 09 / 2023 ● written by frankenstein ● adult ● gmt ● previously at SOLOSBOY in 2020. please read all of my carrd information before acting, it's important.

affiliated with: @walkpathe

other blogs: @goldenngore & @munsontm

A STUDY IN...

the broken family, doubling of the self, haunted by the past, the burden of legacy, the monster is just a man, consumed by rage, fear, the internal struggle of good vs evil, the byronic hero / villain, reaching for godhood, abuse trauma, experiencing abuse, the voices in your head, chaotic evil, little boy lost, war, the longest road to redemption.

LINKS...

CARRD / ASK / SUBMIT / SPOTIFY / PINTEREST / PERMANENT STARTER CALL / HEADCANONS / IMPORTANT CANON DIVERGENT POINTS

A FEW NOTES...

🔈 My divergencies WILL affect some other major character's canon. Hence, why it's important to read my whole carrd.

🔈 My fc is Matteo Martari as opposed to Adam Driver, just as a little treat.

🔈 I am not a sage of Star Wars lore, so I ask kindly that if I am wrong about something, you kindly correct me.

🔈 I don't care about fandom drama and will not get involved.

🔈 My canon is ALWAYS a work in progress. I may even call Benlo my oc one day, who knows?

🔈 Do NOT soft block me. Live hardcore and hard block me...or pay my rent. (  kudos if you get this reference  )

[relaxxattack]

I don't know why people actually think the 'logged in for anon asks' feature solves things. sure for non logged in anon need to get an anon ask to ip ban them but you need to get anon hate to block a person using logged in anon as well? people on this website send anon hate and have forever so I don't know why people insist needing an account will stop it? and according to some posts i've seen people are even just making burners now to avoid possible shadowbans. Just using burner emails to make burner tumblrs solely to send anon hate from. so all I see is the negative side of this meaning tumblrs becoming like the rest of the internet, a walled garden unsearchable outside the reaches of its own site that bullies you into getting an account to participate or share content from it. Leading to what it usually leads to, way more creditless content ripping. no one embedding links that don't embed right elsewhere, and perfectly nice people who just don't want to deal with the way this site (in particular the apps) is broken and terrible a lot of the time having zero way to send love to creators they like. it doesn't do much to actually stop anon hate that's just the excuse.

yeah that's along the lines of how i think about it, well said