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sophaeros · 3 months

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arctic monkeys for q magazine, june 2011 (x) (x)

ARCTIC MONKEYS: Inside Alex Turner's Head

Words Sylvia Patterson Portrait John Wright

The day Arctic Monkeys moved into their six bedroom, Spanish-style villa in the Hollywood Hills, where the first-floor balcony looked over the patio swimming pool, they knew exactly what to do.

"From the balcony, you could get on t'roof and jump in't pool," chirps the Monkeys' most gregarious member, drummer Matt Helders, in his homely Yorkshire way. "We looked at it and said, That's definitely gonna happen. So by the end, we did a couple of 'em. Somersaults in t'pool, from the roof. At night time."

In January 2011, as Sheffield and the rest of Britain endured its bitterest winter in a century, Arctic Monkeys capered among the palm trees, eschewing hotels for a millionaire's Hollywood homestead as they recorded and mixed their fourth studio album, Suck It and See.

The four Monkeys, alongside producer James Ford and engineer James Brown, lived what they called the "American man thing": watched Super Bowl on giant TVs, played ping-pong, hired two Mustangs, cooked cartoon Tom And Jerry-sized steaks on barbecues on Sundays, had girlfriends over to visit, all cooking and drinking around the colossal outdoor kitchen area featuring a fridge and two dishwashers. Living atop the Hills, they could see the Pacific Ocean beyond by day, the infinite glittering lights of downtown LA by night.

Every day, en route to Sound City Studios, they'd travel in a seven-seater four-by-four through the mountains, via bohemian 60s enclave Laurel Canyon, blaring out the tunes: The Stones Roses, The Cramps, the Misfits' Hollywood Babylon. For the sometime teenage art-punk renegades whose guitarist, Jamie Cook, was once ejected from London's Met Bar for refusing to pay €22 for two beers, the comedy rock'n'roll life still feels, however, absolutely nothing like reality.

NICK O'MALLEY: "It were really as if we were on holiday. When we came back it's the most post-holiday blues I've ever had!"

JAMIE COOK: "It's hard to comment on that. It were just really good fun."

MATT HELDERS: "We always said, As soon as things like that feel normal, we're in trouble. But it's just funny. You might think it would get more and more serious as you get older but it's getting funnier. We've done four albums now and I'm still only 24, I'm still immature to an extent. So who cares?"

Alex? Al? Are you there?

ALEX TURNER: "Yeah, it were good times. But we were in the studio most of the time. So there's no real wild Hollywood stories. Hmn. Yeah."

Wednesday, 16 March 2011, Strongroom Bar, Shoreditch, East London, 11am. Alex Turner, 25, slips entirely alone into an empty art-crowd brasserie looking like an indie girl's indie dream boy: mop-top bouffant hair which coils, in curlicues, directly into his cheekbones, army-green waist-length jacket, baggy-arsed skinny jeans, black cord zip-up cardigan, simple gold chain, supermoon sized chocolate-brown eyes.

Almost six years after I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor became the indie-punk anthem of a generation (from the first of Arctic Monkeys' three Number 1 albums), and nothing prepares you for the curious phenomenon of Alex Turner "in conversation". Unlike so many of the Monkeys frenetic early songs, he operates in slow motion, seemingly underwater, carrying a protective shell on his back, perhaps indie rock's very own diamond-backed terrapin. The most celebrated young wordsmith in rock'n roll today talks fulsomely, in fact, only in shapeless, curling sentences punctuated with "maybe... hmn.. yeah", an anecdotal wilderness sketching pictures as vague as a cloud. He is, though, simultaneously adorable: amenable, gentle, graceful, and as Northern as a 70s grandpa who literally greets you with "ey oop?".

"People think I'm a miserable bastard," he notes, cheerfully, "but it's just the way me face falls." Still profoundly private, if not as hermetically sealed as a vacuum-packed length of Frankfurter, his fante-shy reticence extends not only to his personal life (his four-year relationship with It-girl/TV presenter Alexa Chung, whom he never mentions) but to insider details generally. Take the Monkeys’ Hollywood high jinks documented above: not one word of it was described by Turner. Before Q was informed by his other Monkey bandmates, Turner’s anecdotal aversion unfolded like this:

Describe the lovely villa you were in. AT: "Well... we certainly had a... good view."

Of what? AT: "Well, we were up quite high."

The downtown LA lights going on forever? AT: "I dunno. It was definitely that thing of getting a bit of sort of sunshine. Is it vitamin D? If you can get vitamin D on your record, you've got a bit of a head start. So we'd get up and drive to the studio."

What were you driving? AT: "Nothing... spectacular. But yeah, we'd drive up the studio, spend all day there and sort of, y know, get back. To be honest... we had limited time. So we spent as much time as possible kind of getting into it, like, in the studio.

So your favourite adventures were what? AT: "Well, they were really… minimal. We were working out there!"

Any nightclubs or anything, perhaps? AT: "You really want the goss 'ere, don't you?"

Yes, please. AT: "I could make some up. Nah!"

And this was on the second time of asking. It's perhaps obvious: Alex Turner, one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation (four Monkeys albums and two EPs in five years, The Last Shadow Puppets side-project, a bewitching acoustic soundtrack for his actor/video director friend Richard Ayoade's feature-length debut Submarine), is dedicated only to the cause – of being the best he can possibly be. He simply remembers the songs much more than the somersaults.

Throughout 2009, Arctic Monkeys toured third album Humbug – the record mostly made in the Californian desert with Queens Of The Stone Age man-monolith Josh Homme – across the planet. While hardly some cranium-blistering opus, its heavier sonic meanderings considerably slowed the Arctic Monkeys' live sets and on 23 August 2009, Q watched them headline the Lowlands Festival, Holland and witnessed a hitherto unthinkable sight – swathes of perplexed Monkeys fans trudging away from the stage. With the sludge rock mood matching their cascading dude-rock hair it seemed obvious: they'd smoked way too much outrageously strong weed in the desert.

"Heheheh, yeah," responds Turner, unperturbed. "That's your theory. You probably weren't alone."

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Turner's arm is now nonchalantly draped along the back of a beaten-up brown leather sofa. He ponders his band's somewhat contrary reputation…

"I think starting the headline set at Reading with a cover of a Nick Cave tune perhaps was a bit contrary. D'youknowhat Imean?! But to be honest, that summer, at those festivals, we had a great time. And I know some fans enjoyed those sets 10 times more. And you can't just do, y’know, another Mardy Bum or whatever. Because how could you, really?"

With Humbug, notes Turner, "I went into corners I hadn't before, because I needed to see what were there," but by spring 2010 he wanted their fourth album to be "more song-based" and less lyrically "removed". He was "organised this time", studied "the good songwriters" (from Nick Cave, The Byrds and Leonard Cohen to country colossi Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline), discovered "the other three strings" on his guitar, and wrote 12 songs through the spring and summer of 2010, mostly in the fourth-floor New York flat he shared with Chung before the couple moved back to London late last summer (the New York MTV show It's On With Alexa Chung was cancelled after two seasons). The result: major-key melodies, harmonised singing and classic song structures.

At the same time he revisited the opposite extreme: bands such as Black Sabbath and The Stooges ("we wanted a few wig-outs as well"); he was also still heavily influenced by the oil-thick grinder rock of Josh Homme, who is clearly now a permanent Monkeys hero. After four months' rehearsals in London, on 8 January the Monkeys relocated to LA for five swift weeks of production and Homme came to visit, singing backing vocals on All My Own Stunts. Tequila was involved.

"Tequila is probably me favourite," manages Turner, by way of an anecdote. "But it takes a certain climate... It's not the same... in the rain. Yeah. [Looks to be contemplating a lyric] Tequila in the rain."

Vocally, he developed the caramel richness first unveiled on The Last Shadow Puppets' Scott Walker-esque The Age Of The Understatement, finding a crooner's vibrato. "Everything before was so tight,” he notes, clutching his neck. "Probably just through nerves. That's just not there any more." Suck It and See contains at least four of the most glittering, sing-along, world-class pop songs (and obvious singles) of Arctic Monkeys' career: the towering, clanging She's Thunderstorms, the summertime stunner The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala, the heavenly harmonised title track and the Echo & The Bunnymen-esque jangly pop of closer That's Where You're Wrong.

Elsewhere, in typically contrary "fashion", there's preposterous head-banger bedlam (Brick By Brick, the rollicking faux-heavy rock download they released in March "just for fun", featuring vocals by Helders; Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair, and Library Pictures). News arrives that the first single proper will be Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair. Q is perplexed. Brilliantly titled, certainly, but arriving after Brick By Brick, the new album will appear to the planet as some comedy pastiche metal album for 12-year-old boys.

You've got all these colossal, summery, indie-pop classics and you've gone for... The Chair? AT: [Laughing uproariously] "The Chair! I'm now calling it The Chair, that's cool. Well for once it weren't even our suggestion. It was Laurence's (Bell, Domino label boss). And I were, Fucking too right! He's awesome. It'd be good to get a bit of fucking rock'n'roll out there, won't it? It's riffs. It's loud. It's funny."

If you don't release The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala as a single I'm going round Domino to kick Laurence's "awesome" butt. AT: "I think it'll be the next one!"

The record's title, meanwhile, could've been more enigmatically original than the un-loved phrase Suck It and See. The band, struggling with ideas due to the opposing sonic moods, invented an inspiration-conjuring ruse: to think of new names for effects pedals in the style of Tom Wolfe, Turner being long enamoured with the American author's legendarily psychedelic books The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby, "cos that just sounds awesome".

"There's the Big Muff pedal," he elaborates, "That’s the classic. I've got the Valve Slapper. And there's the Tube Screamer. So we came up with the Thunder Suckle Fuzz Canyon. And… wait till I assemble it in me mind… em… it'll come to me… The Blonde-O-Sonic Shimmer Trap. So we were going for summat like that."

A wasted opportunity?

"Nah. Because some of those things ended up in the lyrics anyway. Suck It and See was just easier."

Alex Turner, rock'n'roll's premier descriptive art-poet, still writes his lyrics long-hand in spiral-bound notebooks. "Writing lyrics is a craft that I've practised a bit now," he avers. "In me notebook it looks like sums. Theories. There's words and arrows going everywhere. There's always a few possibilities and I write the word 'OR' in a square."

For our most celebrated colloquial sketch-writer of the everyday observation (all betting pencils, boy slags and ice-cream van aggravations) the more successful he becomes, the less he orbits the ordinary. "I'm not struggling with that, to be honest," he decides. "In fact I'm enjoying writing lyrics much more than I did. Stories. Describing a picture. Um. There's quite a bit of weather and time in this one. Which is probably not reassuring. 'Oh God, he's writing about the weather.' Maybe leave that out!"

There are also some direct, funny, romantic observations: "That's not a skirt, girl, that's a sawn-off shotgun/And I only hope you've got it aimed at me..." (from the title track).

Some of your romantic quips, now, must be about Alexa. AT: "Right. Yeah. Definitely. Well... there's always been that side to our songs, when we weren't writing about... the fucking taxi rank. It's kind of inevitably... people you're with." [At the mention of Chung's name, Turner is visibly aggrieved, head sliding into his neck, terrapin-esque indeed.]

It must have been very grounding being in a proper relationship through all this madness. Because if you weren't, girls would be jumping all over your head. AT: "Em. Hmn. Well, of course that helps you to... I don't really know.. what the other way would be."

Does Alexa wonder if the lyrics are about her? AT: "Oh there's none of that. Yeah, no, there's no looking over the shoulder."

She must be curious, at least. "Maybe."

Did you ever watch Popworld? AT: [Nervous laughter] "Em! Now and again."

Did you ever see the episode where she helps Paul McCartney write a song about shoes? AT: "Ah, yeah I think so, maybe I did see that."

Well, if I was you, I'd have been thinking, "She's the one for me." AT: "Well. Yeah... maybe that would've... sealed the deal! Hmn. But maybe that wasn't when i got the ray of light. When was? Nah [buries head in hands]. I might have to go for a cigarette..."

Q can't torture him any more and joins him for a snout. Turner smokes Camels from a crumpled, sad, soft-pack and resembles a teenager again. As early song You Probably Couldn't See For The Lights But You Were Staring Straight At Me says, "Never tenser/Could all go a bit Frank Spencer…”

In January 2006, when Arctic Monkeys' Number 1 album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not became the fastest-selling debut in UK history, inadvertently redefining the concept of autonomy and further imploding the decimated music industry (& wasn't their idea to be "the MySpace band", it was their fans': the Monkeys merely kick-started viral marketing by giving away demos at gigs), the 19- and 20-year-old Monkeys were terrible at fame. They weren't so much insurrectionary teenage upstarts as teenage innocents culturally traumatised by the peak-era fame democracy.

To their generation (born in the mid-'80s) fame was now synonymous with some-twat-off-the-telly a world of foaming tabloid hysteria where renown and celebrity meant, in fact, you were talentless. Hence their interview diffidence and receiving awards via videos dressed up as the Wizard OfOz and the Village People. Which only, ironically, made them even more celebrated and famous. (“That were a product of us just trying to hold onto the reins," thinks Turner today. "Being uncooperative.")

Q meets The Other Three one morning at 11am, in the well-appointed, empty bar of the Bethnal Green, Bast London hotel they're staying in (all three live in Sheffield, with their girlfriends, in their own homes). First to arrive is the industrious, sensible and cheerful Helders, crunching into a hangover-curing green apple. He has recovered from last year's boxing accident at the gym, which left his broken arm requiring a fitted plate. Now impressively purple-scarred, the break felt "interesting" and the doctor couldn't resist the one-armed drummer jest: "D'you like Def Leppard?"

Currently enjoying an enduring bromance with Diddy, he still doesn't feel famous, "it just doesn't feel that real, there's no paparazzi waiting for me to trip up." He and Turner, during the four-month rehearsals last year, became an accomplished roast dinner cooking duo for the band. "I reckon we could have us our own cookbook," he beams. "Pictures of us stirring, with a whisk."

O'Malley, an agreeable, twinkly-eyed 25-year-old with a strikingly deep voice and a winningly huge smile, is still coyly embarrassed by the interview process. A replacement for the departed original bass player Andy Nicholson in May 2006, he went from Asda shelf-filler to Glastonbury headliner in 13 months and still finds the Monkeys "a massive adventure". His life in Sheffield is profoundly normal – he's delighted that his new home since last October has an open-hearth fireplace: "Me parents had electric bars." He has also discovered cooking. “I’m just a pretty shit-hot housewife, most of the time," he smiles. "I cook stews, fish combinations, curries, chillies. I made a beef pho noodle soup the other day, Vietnamese, I surprised meself, had some mates round for that."

Recently, at his dad's 50th birthday bash, the party band, made up of family and friends, insisted he join them onstage "for ...The Dancefloor. So I were up there [mimes playing bass, all sheepish] and it were the wrong pitch, they didn't know the words or 'owt, going, Makin eyes... er..." He has no extra-curricular musical ambitions. "I'm happy just playing bass," he smiles. "I've never had the skill of doing songs meself. It'd be shit!"

Cook, 25, is still spectacularly embarrassed by the interview process. He perches upright, with a fixed nervous smile, newly shorn of the beard and ponytail he sported in LA: "Rockin' a pone, yeah, because I could get away with it." With his classic preppy haircut and dapper green military coat (from London's swish department store, Liberty), he looks like a handsome '40s film star. (Turner deems Cook "the band heartbreaker" and had a word with him post-LA: "I said to him, Come on, mate, you've got to get that beard shaved off. Get the girls back into us. Shift some posters.")

His life in Sheffield is also profoundly normal. He still plays Sunday League football with his local pub team, The Pack Horse FC (position, left back), remains in his long-term relationship with page-three-model-turned-make-up-artist Katie Downes and "potters about" at home, refusing to describe said home, "cos I'll get burgled".

A tiler by trade, he always vowed, should the Monkeys sign a deal, that he'd throw his trowel in a Sheffield river on his last day of work. "I never did fling me trowel," he confirms. "Probably still in me shed." He's never considered what his band represents to his generation. "I'd go insane thinking about it, I'm pretty good at not thinking about it… Oh God. I'm terrible at this!"

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Alex Turner is cloudily describing his everyday life. "I just keep meself to meself," he confounds. He mostly stays indoors and his perfect night in with Alexa is "watching loads of Sopranos. And doing roast dinners".

No longer spindle-limbed, he attends a gym and has handsomely well-defined arms – "You have to look after yourself."

Suddenly, Crying Lightning from Humbug rumbles over the bar stereo. "Wow. How about that? I was quite happy the other morning cos Brick By Brick were on the round-up goals on Soccer AM. It's still exciting when that happens. It was like Brick By Brick is real."

He spends his days writing music, "listening to records", and recommends Blues Run The Game by doomed '60s minstrel Jackson C Frank ("who's that lass?... Laura Marling, she did a cover recently), a simple, acoustic, deep and regretful stunner about missing someone on the road.

Lyrically, he cites as an example of greatness the Nick Cave B-side Little Empty Boat [from ‘97 single Into My Arms ], a comically sinister paean to a sexual power struggle: "Your knowledge is impressive and your argument is good/But I am the resurrection babe and you're standing on my foot."

"I need a hobby," he suddenly decides. "I'd like to learn another language." Since his mum is a German teacher (his dad teaches music), surely he can speak some German? "I know how to ask somebody if they've had fun at Christmas." Go on, then. "Nah!"

Where Turner's creative gifts stem from remains a contemporary rock'n'roll mystery; he became a fledgling songwriter at 16, after the gift of a guitar at Christmas from his parents. An only child, did his folks, perhaps, foresee artistic greatness? "I doubt it!" he balks. "Cos I didn't. I wasn't... a show kid." Like the others, he doesn't analyse the past, or the future.

"You can't constantly be thinking about what's happened," he reasons, "it's just about getting on with it." The elaborate pinky ring he now constantly wears, however, a silver, gold and ruby metal-goth corker featuring the words DEATH RAMPS is a permanent reminder of he and his best friends’ past. The Death Ramps is not only a Monkeys pseudonym and B-side to Teddy Picker, but a place they used to ride their bikes in Sheffield as kids.

"Up in the woods near where we lived," he nods. "Just little hills. But when you're eight years old they're death ramps." The ring was custom made by a friend of his, who runs top-end rock'n'roll jewellery emporium The Great Frog near London's Carnaby Street. Ask Turner why he thinks the chase between his writing and speaking eloquence is quite so mesmerisingly vast and he attempts a theory.

"Well, writing isn't the same as speaking," he muses. "Not for me. I seem to struggle more and more with... conversation. Talking onstage... I can't do it any more. Hmn. I'll have to work on that."

The ever-helpful Helders has a better theory.

"Since he's been writing songs," he ponders, “It seems like he’s always thinking about that. So even when he’s talking to you now, he’s thinking about the next thing that rhymes with a word. Even when he’s driving. We joke he’s a bad driver, his focus is never 100 per cent on what he’s doing. Which is good for us cos it means he’s got another 12 songs up his sleeve. I think music must be the easiest way for him to be concise and get everything out. Otherwise his head would explode.”

The Shoreditch.com photo studios, 18 March. Alex Turner, today, is more ethereally distracted than ever, transfixed by the studio iPod, playing Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, a version of I’d Rather Go Blind. Occasionally, he’ll completely lose his conversational thread, “Um. I’ve dropped a stitch.”

The first to arrive for Q’s photoshoot, he greets his incoming bandmates with enormous hugs (and also hugs them goodbye). Today, Q feels it’s pointless poking its pickaxe of serious enquiry further into Turner’s vacuum-packed soul and wonders if he’ll play, instead, a daft game. It’s called Popworld Questions, as first posed by someone he knows rather well.

“Oh, OK. Let’s do it,” he blinks, now perched in an empty dressing room. He then vigorously shakes his head, “Um…I’ve gotta snap back into it.”

Here, then, are some genuine “Alexa Chung on Popworld” questions (2006-2007), as originally posed to Matt Willis, Amy Winehouse, Robbie Williams, Pussycat Dolls, Kaiser Chiefs and Diddy.

Why do indie bands wear such tight jeans? AT: “Um. I supposed they do. They haven’t always. When we first were playing I was definitely in flares. You need to be quite tall to get the full effect, though. So, that's why this indie band wears such tight jeans, cos we've not got the legs for flares."

What makes you tick in the sexy department? AT: "Wow. Pass. What do I find most attractive in a woman? Something in the head? That's definitely a requirement. Well... Hmn. I'm struggling."

Tell us about all the lovely groupies. AT: "No!"

If dogs had human hands instead of paws, would you consider trying to teach them to play the piano? AT: "Absolutely. I'd teach Hey Jude."

How many plums d'you think you can comfortably fit in one hand? AT: "They're not very big. [Holds small, pale, girly hand up for inspection] It's a shame. Probably three. Diddy only managed two? Maybe not then. I can carry a lot of glasses at once, though. If they're small ones I can do four."

Are you cool? AT: "Not as much as I'd like to be. There's this clip where Clint Eastwood is on a talkshow and he gets asked, Everybody thinks of you as defining cool, what d'you think about that? And he gets his cigs out, takes one out, flicks it into his mouth, lights it and says, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Here, Turner locates his Camels soft-pack and attempts to do a Clint Eastwood. He flicks one upwards towards his mouth. And misses. Flicks another. And misses. "Third time lucky?" He misses. "I'll get it the next time." And succeeds. "Hey. Fourth time. Don't put that in! So there you go. I'm four steps away from where I wanna be."

Thank you very much for joining me here on Popworld, here's my clammy hand again. There it is, let it slip, hmmn. You can let go now. AT: "OK! Were you a Popworld fan, then? It was funny. Cool. What were we talking about, before?"

Blimey, Alex. What must you be like when you're completely stoned out of your head? AT: "Stoned? What d'you mean, cos I seem like that anyway? Yeah. A lot of people... tell me I'm a bit... dreamy. But I like the idea of that. Of being somewhere else."

Two days earlier, Turner had contemplated what he wanted from all this, in the end. Many seconds later he gave his deceptively ambitious answer.

"I just wanna write better songs," he decided. "And better lyrics. I just definitely wanna be good at it. Hmn. Yeah.”

—

RUFUS BLACK: AKA Matt Helders, on his ongoing bromance with Diddy

Matt Helders has known preposterous rap titan Diddy since they met in Miami in 2008. “He goes, Arctic Monkeys! Then he said summat about a B-side and I was like, He's not lying! I just thought, This is funny, I'm gonna go with this for a while." Last October Diddy texted Helders, suggesting he play drums with his Diddy Dirty Money band on Friday Night With Jonathan Ross, to give his own drummer a day off. “I were bowling with me girifriend at the time. In Sheffield, on a Sunday." On the day of recording, says Helder, "We had a musical director. That were one of the maddest times of my life. Next day Diddy said, Why don't you just stay? Come along with me. So I went everywhere with him." Diddy had "a convoy of cars" and made sure Helders was always in his. "He'd stop his car and go, Where's Matt? You're coming with me! So I'd get in his car. Just me, him, his security, driver." Diddy, by now, had given him a pseudonym - Rufus Black. "He kept saying, I don't wanna fuck up your image. And I'm, I don't think it's gonna do me any harm!" He stayed in Diddy's spectacularly expensive hotel. Some weeks later, Helders almost returned to the Dirty Money drumstool for a gig in Glasgow. "But we were rehearsing in London. I were like, I might come, how are you getting there? And he were like, Jet. Jump on t’jet with me. But I had to stay in Bethnal Green instead.”

Love’s young dream: Diddy (left) with Helders

#arctic monkeys #alex turner #matt helders #nick o'malley #jamie cook #sias era #interview #q magazine #my image id #bands #this is such a funny interview honestly shfjwjs #self proclaimed housewife nick my beloved......#also why did the interviewer describe alex's hands as small pale and girly HELPME #btw im missing page 93 it's probabky just a photospread but yeah #i managed to find the dead links' images on vk #eye contact #not my scan

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bonefall · 6 months

Note

If the cats dont make camps in human structures, then where's TC at in the lake territory? In canon there's a giant stone wall on one side

It's not a "wall" as in a human structure, it's an abandoned quarry. It's rockface.

[ID: A sandstone quarry, which is a layered pit dug into the side of a hill with sheer, steep rock walls dropping down like steps.]

ThunderClan is not aware that this was built by humans, unlike ruins which are clearly not natural structures.

[ID: Wayne McLoughlin's illustration for the cover of Twilight, which features the ThunderClan camp quarry wall. It's vibrant orange stone with cats nestled on the ledges, with American badgers looming in the foreground.]

Wayne drew it as more of a "canyon" (and also drew the wrong badgers but thats not important), but it's always been some sort of open-air quarry. In BB this area has been abandoned for almost 70 years, and it was a sandstone quarry responsible for tons of slurry being dumped into the Lake which lead to the ancient Lake Kinships abandoning the area.

Anyway, no BB!ThunderClan's camp is going to be in the same spot. It's not the kind of wall you think it is.

#ThunderClan #Quarry

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breannasfluff · 8 months

Text

Last Day

If I knew this was going to happen, I would have woken up earlier. I wouldn’t have slept in and I wouldn’t have been late packing. I would have cooked wildberry crepes for breakfast and I wouldn’t have pushed away Wind’s hug.

I thought today…was supposed to be a nice day.

~~~

The enemy marked on the map isn’t a stone talus. It’s a white-maned Lynel and it greets them with a fireball that carves a path through the snow.

“Run!”

The group sprints and then scatters as arrows rain down from above.

“Shields!” Time yells, and the group scrambles to hold up protection. “Wild! Where can we go?”

Wild risks a glance behind him. The ground shudders with the thud of giant hooves. “I can take him?” It comes out as a question instead of a statement.

“No way, cub! You’re not taking that on without backup—duck!” Twilight nearly tackles Wild, pulling him out of the way of an arrow that hits his previous positions. “Better plan, get us out of here!”

Where can they go? The Gerudo Highlands are stepped with rocks, making it difficult to descend quickly. There’s little out here except the Yiga Hideout—

Wild abruptly changes directions. “Follow me!” It’s not close; not close enough for peace of mind, but it's closer than anything else out here. The lynel will let them go if they can get out of its sight.

The group trails after Wild, scrambling to accommodate the change of direction and still avoid arrows. Then they’re slipping and sliding down the first slope; snow cushioning the landing.

An arrow lands on the short plateau; still too close. “Keep going! Time!”

The last is because the old man has paused by Four, who’s swaying. An arrow is stuck in the shoulder of the tunic and, while it stopped the worst of the damage, when Time pulls it free it comes out red.

Wild curses, pausing to pull out his bow and shoot back at the lynel. It won’t be enough to take it down, but enough to distract it, at least.

Then Legend’s there, yanking on his arm and nearly ruining the shot. “Wild! You’re the only one who knows where we’re going!”

Torn, Wild glances at the lynel and then over his shoulder. “We’re heading to the Yiga hideout!” He lets off another arrow, then spins to wave a hand in the right direction. “We’ve got to descend a few more of these rock steps before we reach it!”

Legend yanks until he starts moving. “Then lead! The rest of us can watch for the others.”

Wild starts moving.

The next few minutes are a blur of calls and shouts, scrambling feet, and cold rock under his fingertips. They bunch up at one part, needing those with hookshots to anchor themselves and descend with another. Sky can use his cape and Wind pulls out a Deku leaf.

Unfortunately, the pause means the lynel catches up again and an arrow catches Warriors in the back of the thigh. He grunts but doesn’t slow down.

They finally hit the ground, panting and limping, in some cases. Four moans, sliding to the ground. Hyrule rushes to his side, wrestling with the Snowquill armor to check his wound. Warriors grimaces as Time pokes lightly at his wound, checking the arrow.

“I can pull it out, but it’s going to hurt. I’ve got a potion, though.”

“When don’t arrow wounds hurt,” he grumbles back but accepts the bottle. Hyrule has Four covered.

“Wild?” Sky catches his eye. “You said something about a hideout?”

He nods, and signs because his chest is still heaving with exertion and adrenaline. ‘Yiga hideout. Well, an old one. I helped the Gerudo clear it out after the Calamity. We can rest there and be out of the cold before we figure out a plan forward.’

Time frowns, patting Warriors as he chugs the potion. “Are you sure it’s empty?”

Nodding, Wild manages a weak smile. ‘Very sure. Riju was motivated.’

“Well, that sounds like our best bet, so lead on.”

With a final deep breath to steady his heart, Wild turns to lead them further up the canyon.

“Isn’t Wild’s world exciting?” Wind pipes up.

“If you call near-death experiences exciting one more time, I’m going to re-screw your head on for you.”

Read the rest here!

#linked moments #hurt/comfort #lu wild #lu time #lu sky #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu four #lu wind #linked universe #linkeduniverse #breannasfluff #my writing #yiga

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ladytabletop · 11 months

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If I may be so bold as to request two: a 1d10 list of heroic deeds a barbarian must accomplish to prove his/her honor. and 1d10 Dwarven folk tales.

Heroic Deeds as Tests of Merit

Climb the highest peak and retrieve a single egg from the snow eagle's nest. Raise the eaglet until it is grown.

Set aside weapons of all kind and traverse the continent from one end to another.

Hold up a waterfall.

Construct a bridge to unite two villages. Accept no help. Use no tools.

Race a cheetah and win.

Retrieve the shield of an ancient warrior, long sunk beneath a deadly whirlpool.

Slay a dragon and carve its skull into a cottage.

Find the bog witch and live with her for a year and a day, doing whatever she bids.

Find a fallen star and bring it to the king.

Scale the Tower and discover what is hidden within.

Dwarven Folk Tales

The Lady of Under is a figure of myth every dwarven child knows about. They say she comes from the deeps, from the very center of the earth, covered in the glitter of mineral and the dust of stone, to grant sweet dreams to those who are sleeping.

Have you heard the tale of the Lovers of Malachite? The trio separated by distance and politics? Their story is a tragic one, for when their knocked messages were heard by the kings of their respective nations, they were locked away forever.

Shadowmoles aren't real. They aren't! They're a made up creature used to explain away miners losing things in the tunnels. Some even say depth sickness is blamed on them.

They say there was once a dwarf so talented on the guitar that even tallfolk were enchanted. If you are lost and hear music, know that it is his songs guiding you.

Efri the Rash was a dwarf so strong and so quick to anger, they say she carved the vast canyon we now live in in a fit of pique after her prize badger was slain.

If you're very quiet near a tunnel's entrance, and the wind whistles across it, you can hear the weeping of a king under the mountain, now long dead. His spirit wanders above ground, unable to return home because of a curse.

Dwarves once were able to swim in the lava flows found deep underground, but a trickster god in the form of a tunnelworm robbed them of their fire immunity. That's why tunnelworms can now swim in lava lakes.

If legend is true, twas a dwarf that hung the moon and the sky. She so loved the stars that she gifted them a great rock to be near them. Some say her bones lie at the moon's center.

If ever you fall into a sinkhole, you have been chosen by the earth to hear and interpret her words. They say you will come back stronger and wiser - but forever changed.

The glowlark flowers that bloom in the caves only grow where a giant's tears have fallen as it laid down for final rest to let its body turn to stone.

all d10 random lists

#d10 random list #these were fun but do please send lists separately!#it's easier to answer if I only have to do one at a time and not keep the ask open #guess I could have done a separate post for the second one

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afanofmanyhats · 6 months

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The air was suffocatingly thick with despair. Lesovikk tightened his grip on the cliffside as he slowly shimmied across the stone. Below him a group of Manas rumbled as they swung fierce blows at each other. Whether it was a genuine fight to the death or simply a way to pass the time, Lesovikk couldn't tell. He simply thanked Mata Nui that his Faxon gave him the lizard-like camouflage and climbing ability to make it past them. The last time he had tried to infiltrate Karzahni had ended with several bruises and a crushed pauldron due to bad tactics on his part.

What else is new, he thought darkly. It wouldn't be the first time my plans got someone killed.

His foot caught onto a loose stone. His weight shifted, and he managed to grab a better foothold just as the shale fell down to the roiling mass of Rahi below. He held his breath as the rocks pattered against a monster's shell. It didn't bother to look up as a different Manas had just slammed a claw into its treads. Lesovikk let out his breath and continued, even more careful this time.

It was slow going. The mountains that ringed Karzahni were blackened from soot, and the ash-choked wind made it hard to breathe. At the same time he was chilled to the bone; no warmth would be found here. Yet he kept climbing, his mind burning as he made further progress into the domain of the damned.

When the Manas were beyond hearing, he finally lowered himself to the canyon floor. He sat for a moment and caught his breath. The air was colder, but clearer. The pain in his throat somehow revived him, and he soon stood back up.

I won't turn back this time. Sarda, Idris, Piruk- everyone, I won't leave without you.

He kept his camouflage, his armor blending into the rough grey and cold black of the rocks. He followed the canyon's passage until he finally saw an opening into a wider space. At the edges of the wall he spotted two figures on either side. He moved to duck out of sight until he realized they were too small to be Manas. Matoran, maybe?

He crept forward, cautious of any traps Karzahni or his minions may have set down. He detected nothing. As he drew closer, his caution turned to curiosity, then to confusion. They were statues. Rather than depicting guards, as he would have expected, they were Matoran. Bizarrely shaped, gangly Matoran, but Matoran all the same. They sat on rocks, one holding a pickaxe and the other a chisel. Their expressions seemed weary beyond all belief.

They must be a warning to what awaits the Matoran who come here. Toil without reward.

As he passed, Lesovikk got the uncanny feeling they were watching him.

Lesovikk felt his heartlight dim as he surveyed the land before him. The sky was black with soot, illuminated only by the red glows of flames scattered throughout the region. Far in the distance he could see a twisted black metal citadel. Smoke billowed from countless chimneys, and the light glowing from the windows made it seem like a many-eyed monster was staring back at him. A giant gate opened its maw, and he could see tiny figures scurrying in and out of it.

Closer to him, the land was dry with pale sand, only broken up by rock spires, more statues resembling the ones he had just encountered, and twisted plants that didn't seem living. Further away, a collection of huts haphazardly grouped together were centered on a gloomy lake. They were Matoran-sized.

Could it be...? They look like the huts back home!

His pulse rising, Lesovikk began to hurry. If his hunch was right, then his journey would soon be over. Maybe he would be able to start his redemption properly. Even if he couldn't bring his team back, surely he could rescue his Matoran from the bowels of this hell.

One of the statues suddenly jerked up. Lesovikk stumbled in surprise and drew his blade. He leveled it as the figure creaked its joints, its mask turning to face him.

Lesovikk felt his blood freeze.

"Turaga Vrikol?"

He could hardly believe what he was seeing. The Turaga's limbs were crooked and thin, their movements jagged from lack of muscles. His hands were curled in, weakly grasping at air. His purple armor was pitted and rusted. What was most horrifying to the Toa of Air were the dull black pits where his eyes and heartlight were supposed to be.

"You... what are you doing here?" Lesovikk felt anger replacing his horror. The last he had seen this corpse, Turaga Vrikol had been babbling about how all the Matoran under his guidance - under Lesovikk's protection - had been flawed. Had been lazy, wasting their time with music and talking. Lesovikk had left him alone to wallow in an empty village.

The Turaga's head jerked up at Lesovikk's words. Lesovikk swallowed his disgust. He had never seen a Mask of Undeath working before. He never wanted to see it again.

The Turaga's voice was a husky, flat whisper, grating from an empty throat like a dull dagger drawn from its sheath. It was miles away from the soothing rich tones Lesovikk had once loved and respected.

"Gone. Sent away... I sent them away. And they were gone..."

"The Matoran? I'm getting them out of here. Do you know where they are?"

"Gone... I was gone. I was lost. I was sent away to seek the lost... I was lost... I was gone..."

"Turaga!" Lesovikk snapped. "Don't waste my time. What time you have is borrowed as it is. Tell me where they are!"

"Gone... Lost... Sent away... Gone... Lost... Sent away... Gone. Lost. Sent away."

Turaga Vrikol's voice began to change. It grew louder and deeper with each repetition. Lesovikk wanted to walk away, but he felt rooted in place like one of the statues. The Turaga began slowly stepping towards him, the pick that had once been his badge of office trailing in the sand behind him.

"Gone. Lost. Sent away. Gone! Lost! Sent away! Gone! Lost! Sent away! GONE! LOST! SENT AWAY!"

Vrikol's broken hand grabbed Lesovikk's arm as the sightless eyes turned up. Lesovikk saw a flare of green light in them as the Turaga screeched, "THEY'RE GONE! THEY'RE LOST TO ME! I CAN'T SEND THEM BACK!"

The words echoed into the cavernous valley. The flash faded from Vrikol's eyes and heartlight. The pick fell from his hand, and with a long, guttural sigh, the Turaga rolled onto his back.

Lesovikk stood there for a long while, dread gripping him in a vice.

Did he come here looking for them? Did... did he mean they're gone from here, or gone like he was? What did Karzahni do to my people?

He looked back at the citadel. Somehow he knew he would find no answers there. He looked back at the Turaga's body only to startle. There was a grey pallor creeping over the armor. The same shade of grey as the statues.

Those aren't statues.

Lesovikk choked back a scream. He took the pick and placed it into the Turaga's hand. He wouldn't be coming back here. There was nothing here for the Toa. He certainly wouldn't find the Matoran in these statues. But if there was a chance they were elsewhere in the universe, he would scour every last island for them.

We've failed you, my friends. But I won't stop searching.

He turned back to the canyon and walked away.

Behind him, Turaga Vrikol's eyes turned grey.

#a new hat for my collection #bionicle #bonkle #fanfic #short story #horror #Karzahni #Lesovikk

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dragonskulls · 1 year

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hooooly fucking hell im finally done with this thing: the AshWing continent. yay! Since kingdoms aren't a thing, the names here are used for both the territories themselves and the quivers which inhabit them. some brief explanations and descriptions of what those names mean:

Fire Grounds: a group of small islands surrounding a big one, lots of volcanic activity in here. its only inhabitants are some species of hardy wyverns such as fire dancers, and smaller fauna living on the borders where some vegetation can grow

The Towering Mountains: massive mountain ranges surround a valley where mountain gliders and wreckers reside. minerals from extinct volcanoes made the soil incredibly fertile, and the natural barriers protect against most predators, making this place a safe paradise

Five Stones: a mysterious monument, consisting of five huge rock monoliths jutting out of the ground, with writing carved into the stone describing the history of FrostWings and AshWings alike. Meetings and festivals involving all quivers take place here, and any damage done to the stones –accidentally or not– strangely disappears by morning. dragons that have been there describe the place as having a soothing yet uplifting aura

The Dark Woods: an immense, dense forest with giant trees and plenty of resources make this the perfect home for wood walkers. unfortunately, scavengers also like making settlements here, so run-ins with dragons aren't uncommon

The Vast Moor: seemingly never ending grassy plains are the main scenery of this region, but a wide sinkhole interrupts this perfect flatland. moor runners have dug deeper into it and reinforced the cave walls, sheltering them from the outside and weather. an aquifer at the bottom provides plenty of water, and it is believed underwater cave systems connect it to other parts of the continent

Misty Spires: small canyons and tall rock formations shrouded in mist and surrounded by howling winds make up this small portion of moor runner territory. few dragons ever go there though, as rumor has it it is haunted. when the fog comes down into the main territory, going out into the fields is not advised

The Roaring Coast: home of the fierce coast strikers, only quiver in the continent that dares venture into the sea. leviathans and sea serpents infest these waters, so dragons here aren't always the apex predators. houses are carved out of the cliff face. a gigantic sea monster skeleton goes on along the coast, with leaders making its skull their main living place

The Silent Swamp: danger is a constant, so being always on the lookout is a must if one is to survive here. giant serpents and crocodiles inhabit the waters, wyverns patrol the skies, scavengers travel along marshes and rivers, and noxious poisons are something that many creatures share here, both predator and prey. however, this harsh environment doesn't deter swamp lurkers from making the most out of these murky waters and shady forests

Plus some extra versions teehee (uploading them the first time crashed my whole laptop :p) oh and paper textures are from unsplash

#wof #wings of fire #ashwing #GOD DAMNNNNN i was having fun intil i had to do the forests jfc #yes that sea monster skeleton thing IS inspired by the lost river in Subnautica bc it goes hard as fuck #btw think of the swamp as a mix between the poison jungle and the mud kingdom #btw i have wof and tf drawings planned so worry not!#also in the swamp there's meant to he like most of it covered in trees vegetation and water but it would've obscured the outline #pretend it's there lol

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violetmoondaughter · 11 months

Photo

Earth, the root, the belly of the world, the energy that nurture and gives stability. We live on the earth and within its fertile surface we grow our food, and we bury our deceased. We couldn’t live on this planet without earth and thanks to it humans were capable of cultivate and build and travel. Rich deposits of metal ores are found throughout the earth’s crust and these metals are used in the production of machinery, tools, buildings, and weapons. Underneath the soil, through roots all plants communicate between each other and take the necessary nourishment. Earth represents home for most of the creatures on this planet and its energy is supportive and grounding for all the living beings.

Some of the most common earth spiritual correspondences are:

Orientation: North

Qualities: Stability, Nurturing, Growing,

Magical Weapon: Pentacle, Crystals

Rituals: Prosperity, Fertility, Abundance, Stability, Money, Grounding.

Places: Mountains, Woods, Forests, Caves, Mines, Canyons, Valleys, Fields.

Natural elements: Rocks, Crystals, Stones, Soil, Sand, Dog, Worms, Ants, Horses, Cows, Trees, Plants, Seeds, Dirt, Flowers, Leaves, Mushrooms, Moss, Wildlife, Fruits, Vegetables, Roots, Bears, Wolves, Hares, Gemstones, Minerals, Metals, Stags, Boars, Wolverines, Goats, Ungulates Animals.

Tarot: Pentacles

Rune: Jera, Ur, Othala

Zodiac Signs: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Spirits: Goblins, Trolls, Gnomes, Giants, Brownies, Dryads, Elves, Fairies, Pixies.

Deities: Geb, Gea, Gaia, Demeter, Ceres, Cupra, Cybele, Artemis, Diana, Dionysus, Bacchus, Liber, Libera, Osiris, Cernunnos, Pan, Ariadne, Kore, Persephone, Rhea, Rhiannon, Adonis, Tammuz.

#witchcraft #witchblr #italian witch #witches of tumblr #babywitch #earth #four elements #earth element #Strega #magic basics #elemental magic #earth spirits #earth deities #earth folklore #chtonic #pagan witch

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pokemonbiologyirlthetabletop · 4 months

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The Legendary Giants

Overview: The Legendary Giants, or Legendary Titans, are a quintet of creations by Regigigas. They are each imbued with pure elemental energy of their respective typing, and given life by Regigigas’s creation magic. Forged from rocks, ice, magma, pure electricity, and crystallized dragon energy, Regigigas created many Giants in its image. Its hard to say why it felt such need, but it did, and it made many of them. These Pokémon are today known as Regirock, Regice, Registeel, Regieleki, and Regidrago. They do not feed for they do not have mouths, and they cannot reproduce except with Mews (which doesn’t quite count since Mews can mate with anything that’s alive).

All five of the Legendary Giants are catchable, and thus featured in the bestiary even though Regigigas is not.

Regirock (#377)

Regi gaia

Regirock is one of the Legendary Giants, a quintet of different species of demigod Pokémon created by Regigigas. They are made of purely of rocks and stones, and they are embued with pure Rock-type elemental energy. No one knows how Regigigas made any of the Legendary Giants.

Regirocks are about 5’07 feet tall (1.7 M) and weigh around 507.1 pounds (230 kg)—which amounts to the height of a normal person but about 2-3 times as heavy.

Divinity: Demigod, created by Regigigas

Habitat: Regirocks are most likely to be found in mountains, canyons, deserts, or even ancient ruins. They prefer to be around places with lots of rocks.

Life Cycles: Regirocks are ancient Pokémon with no discernable life cycle or known life span. In these ancient times, all Regirocks were created by Regigigas in its image, forged from rocks from the very continents it towed into place. When a Regirock experiences chipping, it simply attaches a new rock to itself to cover up the chipping, and this heals it.

Relationship with Humans: Regirocks have been around since before humans descended from the trees of Africa and evolved to walk upright. They are mysterious beings of the mountains and canyons and deserts, who protect their homes with ferver and passion, but otherwise seem to exist quietly in their territories. They are the subject of many folktales, of heroes who have to contend with a Regirock who has sworn to protect sacred land or a castle, or perhaps the Regirock who belongs to a family that it protects with all its love. But for all their mystery and enigma, Regirocks have also been feared by humanity, and many have been locked away in Sealed Chambers by ancient peoples.

Regigigas bestowed upon the Legendary Giants a written language that became the basis for Braille. Should a Regirock wish to communicate in a way that humans can possibly hope to understand, it will communicate by writing in Regi-Braille.

Classification: The Legendary Giants are in their own kingdom of life, Regirexiae. This explicitly only includes the species that were created by Regigigas and their descendents. They are entirely incapable of breeding except specifically with Mew—but then again, anything can breed with Mews, that’s their whole thing.

Regice (#378)

Regi glacies

General Information: Regice is one of the Legendary Giants, a quintet of different species of demigod Pokémon created by Regigigas. They are made purely of crystallized ice-type energy—which is different from regular ice. Regice will never melt (though it may be weaker under intense sunlight and in hotter climates). How Regigigas made the Regices, no one knows.

Regices cloak themselves with sub-freezing air of -328 F (-200 C), thus immediately freezing anything near Regice. It can even survive being submerged in lava and other extremely hot temperatures. Regices are 5’11 feet tall (1.8 M) and 385.8 pounds (175 kg), or about the height of a reasonably Tall Fellow.

Divinity: Demigod, created by Regigigas

Habitat: Regices are most readily found in frozen climates such as Antarctica, the upper altitudes of the Himalayas, and glaciers.

Life Cycles: Regices are ancient Pokémon with no discernable life cycle or known life span. All Regices were created by Regigigas in its image, forged from the glaciers and icesheets of the Earth’s poles as Regigigas towed the continents into place. They sleep inside glaciers for upwards of thousands of years.

Relationship with Humans: Regices have been around since before humans descended from the tress of Africa and evolved to walk upright. They are mysterious beings of the glaciers and tundras of the Earth, who are known to sleep for generations in glaciers until roused. While they can be found in above-zero climates just fine, they prefer the cold, and thus it is the people of the Far North and Far South who are most familiar with these icy giants, where they are feared and revered for their mysterious powers. Some see them as dieties of the ice, some as gentle giants, others as guardians of sacred lands, and more. But for all their mystery and enigma, Regices have also been feared by humanity, with ancient societies locking them away inside Sealed Chambers, never to see the light of day again.

Regigigas bestowed upon the Legendary Giants a written language that became the basis for Braille. Should a Regice wish to communicate in a way that humans can possibly hope to understand, it will communicate by writing in Regi-Braille.

Registeel (#379)

Regi adamanteus

General Information: Registeel is one of the Legendary Giants, a quintet of different species of demigod Pokémon created by Regigigas. It is, perhaps, considered to be the first robot Pokémon, for it is a being composed of pure metal—including a core of a substance that is stronger and more flexible than any known metal. Its body cannot be scratched. How Regigigas made the Registeels, no one knows for sure. There’s different hypothesizes about its material. being of extraterrestrial origin, or perhaps it was made in the Earth’s mantle and tempered for thousands of years

Registeel is 6’03 feet tall (1.9 M) and 451.9 pounds (205 kg)

Divinity: Demigod, created by Regigigas

Habitat: Registeels can live anywhere, from mighty mountains to the forests of old, a Registeel may call it home.

Life Cycles: Regardless of the specifics of their origin, Registeels are ancient Pokémon that were created by Regigigas in its image, forged from something that is like metal but harder, sturdier, and far stretchier and more flexible than any metal seen on Earth.

Relationship with Humans: Registeels have been around since before humans descended from the trees of Africa and evolved to walk upright. They are mysterious beings that like to live inside mountains and ancient forests, enigmatic protectors of their homes, and the patience of ones who have seen eternity and will live long enough to see eternity again. Their relationship with humans is iffy, for they can be found in any terrestrial habitat, and are known to be protective of their homes to those who threaten it. In theory, Registeels are quite capable of amicable relationships with humans, for we, too, are part of the great balance of the world, but not all groups of humans are in a Registeel’s home for good reasons. For all their mystery and enigma, Registeels have been feared by humanity, and ancient societies have locked many away inside Sealed Chambers.

Regigigas bestowed upon the Legendary Giants a written language that became the basis for Braille. Should a Registeel wish to communicate in a way that humans can possibly hope to understand, it will communicate by writing in Regi-Braille.

Regieleki (#894)

Regi fulgur

General Information: Regieleki is one of the Legendary Giants, a quintet of different species of demigod Pokémon created by Regigigas. It is composed of pure electric-type energy, both magical and physical, and it feeds by absorbing free electrons in the air. Thus, nearby storms are incapable of generating lightning with Regieleki nearby. It is so powerful that it could theoretically power an entire small country’s energy needs, but good luck trying to hold one captive enough to achieve that. As with all the Regis, how Regigigas made a being of pure plasma is anyone’s guess.

Regieleki is 3’11 feet tall (1.2 M) and 319.7 pounds (145 kg).

Divinity: Demigod, created by Regigigas

Habitat: Regielekis can live anywhere, but prefer places with greater electrical charges.

Life Cycles: Regieleki are rare even amongst the Legendary Giants, an ancient species made by Regigigas in its image.

Relationship with Humans: Regielekis have been around since before humans descended from the trees of Africa and evolved to walk upright, and have been terrorizing humanity ever since. While Regirock, Regice, and Registeel are largely benign, Regielekis are extremely powerful beings of pure electricity who’s “gentle touch” is an electric shock. Whether these Regieleki are truly trying to inflict harm or not, is hard to say, but ancient peoples grew tired of their torments and sealed all of the Regielekis of the world in non-conductive bands, to minimize their power, and locked them away in Sealed Chambers with a greater passion than the other Legendary Giants received.

Regigigas bestowed upon the Legendary Giants a written language that became the basis for Braille. Should a Regieleki wish to communicate in a way that humans can possibly hope to understand, it will communicate by writing in Regi-Braille.

Regidrago (#895)

Regi draco

General Information: Regidrago is one of the Legendary Giants, a quintet of different species of demigod Pokémon created by Regigigas. It is composed of crystallized dragon-type energy, though how Regigigas made it is unknown.

Regidrago is 6’11 feet tall (2.1 M) and 440.9 pounds (200 kg).

Divinity: Demigod, created by Regigigas

Habitat: Regidrago can be found in any habitat, and is known to be an absurdly powerful guardian of its home.

Life Cycles: Regidrago is the rarest of all of the Legendary Giants—in fact, it is said there to be only one, though how true this is, is uncertain. The tale goes that Regidrago was the last of the Legendary Giants to be forged from Regigigas, as it spent the eons collecting crystallized dragon energy and gathering them in order to make Regidrago, but it ran out of crystals and was only able to make the head. Another tale tells of how the arms of Regidrago were originally the head of a mighty ancient dragon Pokémon.

Relationship with Humans: Regidrago is not as old as the other Legendary Giants, but to not mistake this for it being young. It may not have been around to see the first humans descend from the trees, but it was there when we were still being eaten by leopards, and it was there when the earth frozen over and over again in glacial maximums, and humans evolved to thrive as the Earth’s megafauna hunters. It is a fearsome beast with untold dragonic powers—so immense, that ancient humans feared the day that Regigigas would finish its greatest creation, that they locked Regidrago away inside a Sealed Chamber in the hopes that none others would ever have to live in fear of the ultimate dragon.

Regigigas bestowed upon the Legendary Giants a written language that became the basis for Braille. Should Regidrago wish to communicate in a way that humans can possibly hope to understand, it will communicate by writing in Regi-Braille.

~~~~~~~~

Hey guess what, if you like my stuff, this is my website where you can find other Pokémon I've written on and more information about the game that I’m slowly making! Check it out! I write books sometimes too.

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totkdaily · 2 months

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Day 39: Attack on Hyrule

Spot is still on the hillside when I get back from hunting Misko's treasure, though the treasure hunter I left him with, Kaffi, isn't.

We head south, meet the road and cross the river at Owlin Bridge. Addison is trying to put up a sign on the other side, so I stop to give him a hand.

I follow the river south and then east towards the Dueling Peaks. I rescue Benny from being attacked by a bokoblin again. She says there might be a geoglyph here somewhere. I wonder…

I climb a rocky vantage point, and I see lines amongst the trees. I find the pool at the top of the hill.

A vision. I see...

The Demon King, before his transformation. He looks out on the Great Plateau. He commands the Gerudo - he has their red hair.

And he sends beasts thundering towards Hyrule - Molduga! Racing down the canyon.

Ancient Hylians stand on the wall of the Plateau. Rauru, Sonia - and Zelda, all with them.

They join their power and defeat the monsters.

The Demon King fixes his eyes on Sonia's secret stone. I know what he intends to do to gain it.

I ride on towards the Dueling Peaks, but I realise I can't cross the river with Spot, and I'm loathe to abandon him. I ride back to Riverside Stable and register him there.

Then I head back down the river on the other side, and cross further down. On the other side of the bridge, a member of the survey team - Lammz - says a chasm has opened in an outpost west of here.

I ride up the hill to reach the tower I've marked as being here somewhere, but it involves climbing, and right now I just want to head to Kakariko Village. I know the way. I don't need the map. I head back down to the road.

I find a memorial with a Silent Princess laid on it. "I dedicate this monument to the memory of the souls lost to the Calamity." Zelda put this here. I feel her gentle hand.

But I can't stay here. There's monsters everywhere. I ride on towards the Peaks.

I come across a giant piece of sky island debris - there's even a Steward here! Possibly guarding a shrine - they don't seem clear. "Give keys born of water to the three altars. The sacred shrine will appear."

I cannot tell what that would mean. I will have to return, once I've visited Kakariko Village.

#totkdaily #day 39 #totk #loz #zelda #legend of zelda

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achoshistor · 7 months

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[totk] loose ends

the devs said no dlc but theres sooo much stuff in the game thats just not even addressed like i get it its a huge game but they could at least say something thats not just "idk lmao"... who knows maybe creating a champion 2 will be real

anyways spoilers but mainly for totk

starting off on the surface there's the shape of the Gerudo highlands—no explanation for why its in the shape of one of the heroine statues

Misko is never really given an explanation either... what's the far off land they talk about regarding the treasures ?? how did they get the treasure into locations practically only accessible by link??

the Palmorae Ruins/Garini... he is literally just reduced to a shopkeeper in totk but wtf is up with that medallion... I think it is straight up gone in totk but even the doors back there... the other doors in botw opened up to a shrine/skeleton so why do these specific ones not open... and why was Garini able to help unlock the shrine in botw who is that man

ancient altar ruins, prison, other sinkhole caves/ruins littering the desert? this one is pretty minor and granted ive not really looked into the altar ruins but even with all the other ruins all over the desert like what are those even supposed to be

dragon skeletons/misc bones how did the one in Gerudo MOVE?? and how did the one in Hebra get stuck in there? there was a whole questline for this in botw with the different shaped heads and even another one in totk for the Gerudo one's baby/fixing the other two's bones/eyeball and its just left there are what even are those things and why do they just not explain them... plus i guess the ones in Eldin make some sense since there is a big one but the ones in Lanaryu?? i mean it did use to be a desert but there is nothing in the game regarding those bones... and also the skulls for the monsters like what are those and the bony rock around skull lake/ibara butte lake of horse god region/breach of demise like what even is that and WHY

Zonai ruins... im so sorry i post about this so much but aside from just the area labeled "Zonai Ruins" they do not talk about them at all in game... theres roads and like a graveyard and other various structures all over the jungle and even underground

Zonai ruins out of Faron... no explanation on the ones all over the Tabantha/Hebra region's caves... i mean at least the one door for the shrine you had to knock down was turned into a cave and the other two (that i know of) had a questline but whats up with the ones in the canyon? under Kakariko too like what's up with that?? Hyrule Ridge also like the thunder part from totk is tied to a sheikha shrine and they don't talk about it in totk (the balls) and Thyplo too i guess because they never talked about why it was covered in dark... but ig that was something to do with the Zonai since some shrines do that too... and the Zonai towers like what even are those

random Hylian ruins everywhere—they all have this weird shell crest thing on them (i do not have a picture right now but these are the stone ones not the wooden ones) and they were in botw too like reaching all the way to Eventide Island like are you seriously telling me the calamity reached the island?? why are they all broken down

why isn't Lake Kilsie frozen

Ankel/Tingel/other islands off of Sokkala/Upland Zorana... those islands are just not real to me at all like why are they so high up... were they manmade??

this one is also kind of minor but the descriptions for the labyrinths make no sense like who is talking to you (lord of owls/dragons/boars(?)

the people Josha talks about in the mural (statues)... you can see a Zonai in it and the trail of statues and Zonai look NOTHING alike you cannot convince me those are Zonai or even made by Zonai

the flowers in the water at Skull Lake and around Malanya Spring like ok this is also really small but why do they do that

giant tree stumps like they just do not even talk about those even though theyre all over central Hyrule

ancient Hylian ruins—the major reigons for these are Akkala and Tabantha... ik the creating a champion did talk about this but they did not really explain it or what they were... speaking of in Akkala there are Zonai ruins WITH the Hylian ones especially in the Tarrey Town/wetland area like what's up with that

owl/boar/dragon statues... the dragons are super present in totk yes but what is up with the owl and boar... the owl esp appears all over the Hebra caves

the horned statue thing that exchanges hearts/stamina for money... how does it move around and actually how does this work

I think that's it for the surface so for the depths theres also several things...

the Gerudo Underground Cemetery?? who was buried there and why not on the surface?? like i'm pretty sure it's right under Arbiter's Grounds...

coliseums?? there are a lot of them and I think they do correspond with locations on the surface but what was the reason for them being built??

ascend points—they pop up in mostly seemingly random locations... the one that made sense was the Akkala lab which overlooks the big maze island but the others pretty much take you to the middle of nowhere plus why does it have it's own music?? they have nothing to do with the story or anything aside from that one in Korok grove

lakes/secret spring of revival... tbh actually this is theorizing but i guess that the depths were under water at one point especially with that weird barnacle pattern all over the ground and that would have left water in deep areas but that does not explain where this water would have went or why the spring of revival is heated

general landscape of the area... its an inverse of the map but only of the current map... the one in the Forgotten Temple shows the central Hyrule region was a lake but there's not really a large area of ceiling high cliffs there... and also the dueling peaks have the river going through them as cliffs even though the ancient peak was just one... how do cliffs disappear/appear??

gorondia—is it the fire temple or what?? or was it just not even real

gleeok den: do the gleeoks just come from the depths?? is the king Gleeok down there like the mother of all Gleeoks?? and whats with the statues of the four races down there also??

speaking of statues there's not one for Hylians which ok ig they did not do anything useful but also they just do not match the style of every other Zonai building down there

bargainer statues?? again they do not look Zonai, they look like the statues that lead you to mines and they're always under goddess statues... are there more to be recovered because the one at lookout landing does not seem to have a goddess statue with it... plus the bigger they are the more limbs they seem to have like the big one under the Forgotten Temple has hands and feet (granted with like 3 fingers) plus they can give out hearts?? like seeing that actually what are the goddess statues doing with your shrine balls where do they take them?? and what is the afterlife where do these statues take the poes... plus why do their eyes glow the same color as the ancient energy...

ancient underground fortress/ancient observation deck?? theres no cities or anything that really needs defense down there so why is there a whole fort down there... and the observation deck is literally like a random structure but ig it makes sense since it watches over the heart

blupee den... how did they get down there

the bosses down there like why are they down there and why are there MULTIPLE of them + what are the flux constructs guarding

great skeletons... while under the ones on the surface they are not the same creatures... i've seen theories that are like "this is a dragon and the gloom hands ate them" which makes sense bc the skeletons are about as long as Naydra but who were these three?? were they unique to the depths or something and also if they were flying how would the gloom hands reach them

trees?? theres big tree stumps in some groves like what are those but also the smaller trees look more like coral than trees and don't even drop wood when you cut them... i mean ig they do work since the Yiga seem to use them but regardless I think they refer to them as "trees" so what even are they

Akkala House of Bones... what and why

ok i think that is all for the depths so now onto the sky

the islands... i get that most of them were raised from the depths but how come none of the rock on these islands looks anything like the rock from the depths??

dive ceremony... could the Zonai fly or something?? i mean i don't think we ever saw Rauru fly or anything actually how would they even get up there in the first place... plus were the islands in the sky before Ganondorf was a thing since they did raise the Temple to protect it or was it over many years or were the constructs lying

islands specific to Gleeoks/Constructs... why are they just there like I get they protect the soul pieces but are gleeoks not evil/made of malice since they have the eye or have they just been around before Ganondorf made all the Other Monsters (moblins/bokoblins/etc)

just the style differences between the Water and Wind Temples and normal islands...what is up with that...

also why are there no zonai cities or anything?? where did they live?? like even though the two of them were the last two left there had to have been others right??

I think that is all for now thank you for coming to my ted talk

#botw #totk spoilers #botw spoilers #botw totk #botw totk theory #botw theory #totk theory #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #zelda

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sciencelings-writes · 2 years

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Who Could Ever Leave (But Who Could Stay)

Whumptober prompt 15: Emotional Damage/ New Scars.

Warnings: discussions of death and mourning, nothing graphic

AO3 Link

WC: 3,728

Summary: Wild returns to the Forgotten Temple after the events of LU.

Wild had always been drawn to the Forgotten Temple. Though it took a while for him to look closely at all the faded writing on the walls, to look under the rubble and find the true purpose of the building. It turned out, there was a reason he was so drawn to it.

Sprawled across the rooms in a dozen forms of ancient Hylian, was the history of the heroes' spirit and their battles against the man Ganondorf and the beast Ganon. It took weeks to translate and transcribe it all. Carvings of legendary battles were immortalized in stone and if this excavation had happened earlier, Wild would’ve just found it kind of cool instead of completely earthshattering.

Months ago Wild had stepped through his last dark triangular portal, leaving his new family behind for a time where they’ve long since perished and faded into myths. Going from having eight brothers on a constant road trip through time to being dropped alone in his wide world was quite the shift. Going from ‘Wild’ back to just ‘Link’ added to how jarring the difference was.

It wasn’t as if his incarnations lived so far away that he wouldn’t be able to visit them, no, by his time, they were dead. Dead for so long that their bones would’ve turned to dust and any mark they had made on the world, if not completely forgotten, was turned into old songs and stories told to children to keep them from talking to strange men in caves. So old that it was doubtful that even the Great Deku Tree would have the ability to remember, though he was unlikely to be able to stay awake for long enough to tell him.

But this temple at the end of a great canyon held their stories on its walls and in eternal stone tablets. There were statues in all forms of decay of their likenesses, some of the more well-preserved were a boy with an ocarina and a wolf carrying a strange rider. But Link could identify most of them despite how much the marble crumbled. He knew who wore that particular scarf and who would’ve been depicted with hands covered in rings.

They were cold memorials like the one of Mipha, though these ones were largely decrepit and in terrible shape. He spent hours restoring the ones he could, painstakingly cleaning the ancient inscriptions and piecing the fragments of stone together like a puzzle. He helped Zelda translate the words even though it didn’t come as easily for him as it did for her. Instead, he made himself useful by moving the rubble and searching for anything interesting.

After days of transcribing pieces of the wall whose inscriptions seemed to fit in one of the earliest tales of the goddess's chosen people living in islands in the sky, Link found something more than just faded words. Under pounds of rubble was the entrance to a hallway that led even deeper underground.

It took a few hours to dig out all the rocks from the doorway, but once the dark hall was opened to him, he only hesitated long enough to light a torch before adventuring into the shadows.

For a moment he thought about hollering to Zelda that he was going into the mysterious dark room, but she was on the other side of the temple surrounded by pages and pages of writing and seemed completely engrossed in her work. Plus, if there was any place where giant spiders would’ve survived for thousands of years, it would be in the creepy dark corners of this older than ancient temple. It would be smart to check to see if there was any danger right?

So Link ventured into the corridor, only the light of a torch in one hand and the faint glow of the master sword reflecting across the old stone. The sword seemed extra luminescent in the new darkness. The only sounds were his boots against the worn ground and the slight snaps from the fire interacting with the oils on the torch. No snapping of arachnid maniples thankfully.

The air was stale and dusty, which he expected. What he didn’t expect was the increasing number of foliage. Even though the entire area had been sealed off from all light for at least a hundred years, there were green plants growing from the hidden section of the temple, right where the only path headed. Not just moss or mushrooms that didn’t need light, but flowers and ferns inhabiting the cracks in the wall.

There was a single room at the end of the hall, it was just as dark as everything else. Thankfully, there were no large spiders waiting to attack him. One of the perks of his Hyrule was that there weren’t any more massive arachnids. Link used his torch to light the half dozen that were attached to a circle of pillars that supported the large room. Then he saw what the room really was.

Stone boxes surrounded a slight incline in the center of the room. Each one with a carved figure resting peacefully as if they had turned to stone in the middle of a nap. They were each posed holding a blade as many great warriors would be after their deaths. Not to be used, but in a reverent rest to honor the fallen soldier. But the swords they held were familiar, as well as their faces. He should’ve guessed whose resting place this would be given the forgotten temple's history.

He had unearthed a crypt. Not just any crypt though, he had stumbled upon the burial chamber of Hylia’s previous chosen heroes. The final resting place of his brothers, and more than likely, would someday be his own. The thought was almost comforting in juxtaposition with the rush of renewed grief that made him stumble back at the realization.

Link closed the distance between him and the nearest sarcophagus in an act of morbid curiosity. He was fully aware that there was no way it would make him feel anything but agony. The first recognizable detail he could identify was the stone master sword, though he realized that detail would likely be repeated a few times. The face and the crown really tipped him off. Sky, the First King of Hyrule. It was a little strange seeing him with a beard.

One by one Link visited each marble casket, feeling his heart crumble with every one he identified. Four with his small stature and the four sword, though it seemed like he was just permanently short and not confirmed to have died young. He still looked too young encased in stone though.

He recognized Time by his distinct nose, to be fair, he was looking from a side profile and the stone didn’t show his fierce deity markings very strongly. Link also approached from the unscarred side. The old man too held the master sword, which he likely would not have liked. The part that really hit Link was that the sculpture didn’t look too different than when he had last seen Time those few months ago. Other than the unfamiliar armor, he had barely aged.

The next one was what really broke what little control he had over his emotions. Sure, the other ones made him feel like collapsing and crying but he had somehow managed to move on and keep his eyes dry, though still stinging with the effort of trying not to do that. But the next one was Twilight. He had the strong urge to turn away and move on to the next one but he couldn’t. He just drifted closer to the sarcophagus like a lethargic ghost.

It had been so easy to pretend that there would’ve been a happy ending. That there would somehow be a way to prevent their inevitable departure, that they would meet again. But while Link considered himself hopeful, he wasn’t delusional. If he had access to any form of time travel, he’d likely first go back to prevent the calamity over reuniting with his brothers. That would be the heroic thing to do right? Prioritizing the greater good or some bullshit?

Time travel wasn’t uncommon, but Link wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d be allowed to use it for something less than saving the crumbling kingdom of Hyrule, again. No matter how much he missed them, no matter how much he cared about them, they were all gone. They had been dropped together from different times and timelines and Link was stupid enough to get attached enough for it to tear him into pieces when they were ripped apart after their purpose was fulfilled. But that was his fault. Now he just had to live with it.

Link couldn’t bring himself to look too closely at Twilight’s stone face. He didn’t want to agonize over how long he had lived before the death mask was made. He didn’t want to think about if he had been too young or not. Instead, he grabbed for one of his hands that rested on the carved master sword. It was cold and Link had never wanted anything more than for it to be real but he figured all the miracles meant for him had all been used. He closed his eyes and whispered the brief prayer of rest, a song over the deceased traditionally saved for the family of the recently dead to sing. He didn’t realize that he had remembered it until now.

He moved on to the next casket. It was Wind, the first King of New Hyrule. His growth was one of the most dramatic, he could almost manage a smile but not quite. Wind hadn’t given up the pirate look, in fact, he had really leaned into it. He was pretty sure that the statue depicted his arms full of tattoos.

Link didn’t recognize all the heroes, but he still paid his respects, they were still part of him, even if he didn’t know it. In fact, it made him want to know their stories more.

He had to do a double-take at Legend’s sculpture, he had grown old. Easily older than any of the others. He still held his odd upgraded master sword in jewel-encrusted hands and when he took the time to read an inscription near him, because the language of Legend’s Era was similar enough to his own that it didn’t take too much effort, it said ‘It’s Dangerous to go Alone.’ Which was an awfully ominous thing to have in a sepulcher.

The next one revealed where the plants had originated from. Hyrule’s sarcophagus had been slightly opened by self-growing funeral flowers. They reminded Link of the ones that would grow by fairy fountains. They were much more alive than they should be, to be fair, nothing except for nocturnal bugs should be alive down here, but these plants managed. Hyrule was still depicted young though, and at this point, Link just hoped that the sculptures just weren’t accurate. He couldn’t quite convince himself that it was the case though.

Warriors’ coffin looked like one of the most recent additions, though they were all worn stone with bits and pieces chipped off with age, his was somehow the most intact. It looked a little too lifelike in Link’s opinion. It was odd to see the captain look so restful, so relaxed. In the dim flickering torchlight Link almost convinced himself that he saw eyelashes fluttering, he could almost hear the groan his brother would make whenever he was woken up.

But it was silent. No more campfire stories, no more metallic clangs of a casual spar, no more laughter and juvenile pranks, no more ambient harp strumming or ocarina music. Just Link. Just his shaking breaths and wet sniffling that would normally be quiet but in the soundless room were almost thunderous.

There was plenty of room in the vault for more heroes to be placed. An unending cycle of rebirth just to fight an evil that was just as stubborn. It was exhausting. So many lifetimes spent fighting the same evil and all its many branches, whether as a monstrous boar or power-hungry warlock or a small power-hungry warlock or a power-hungry warlock with an obsession with paintings.

Link suddenly felt older than he really was, even older than the century of life he technically had under his belt. Thousands of years fighting the same fight, mostly winning, but not always, but never being finished, never able to stop the threat forever.

The heroes spirit was so old, older than so many gods and spirits and beings beyond his comprehension. Older than fairies and trees and deities, as old as goddess blood, and older than the kingdom itself. He had seen the rise and fall of Hyrule many times, through skies and floods and total destruction and corruption, darkness always returned but he was always there, he would always be there.

That was the tragedy, wasn’t it? He was always doomed to fight and suffer and die over and over and over again. It had been the fate of his brothers, it had already been his own. Though his tomb was far away from theirs. For a moment he was thankful that it was, it would’ve been much more unsettling to wake up here. In the shrine, he could almost pretend that it wasn’t a crypt. It was a little more obvious here.

There was something about being confronted by their graves, their faces etched in stone, repeating the same name over and over again. Link Link Link Link Link… No last names, only Link. They didn’t need to be individualized, they were all the same person.

They were gone, not even leaving behind dust in the circular room that was suddenly suffocating to be in. They were his friends, his mentors, his brothers, his family. But he was in the future where they were dead, it had been the same with the champions, his old family that he scarcely remembered. He was always doomed to leave everyone behind, to be stuck in a world without them.

His knees hit the hard stone as they became too weak to carry him. Until now, it hadn’t really hit him that they were… gone. That he would never see them again. It was so easy without real closure to think that they were just living somewhere in time, peacefully raising a family on their wife's farm or traveling in a healthy safe world, settling down and taking care of apple orchards now that their purpose was fulfilled, now that they were free.

It was foolish to think that they would each have a happy ending. Maybe it was part of Demise’s curse that Sky told them about. For the kingdom, the consistency of a hero had always been a source of hope. Every time some evil rose, there would be a hero to meet it and defend them. But it was the same hero every damn time. No one thought about how the hero would feel about this arrangement. It’s what made the demon god’s curse a curse and not just some hopeful fairytale to tell to kids.

His family had all succumbed to the same fate, unable to fight that last monster or deviate from their divine purpose. It was impossible to tell if they had been happy, if they had died fulfilled, if they died alone. All he knew is that they were gone. He would never hear Time’s ocarina or Sky’s snoring or Wind’s laughter ever again. His only memories of them held within images of the slate, much like his memories of Zelda and the Champions were.

Someday he would forget their voices and their words, whatever he had no record of would be as forgotten as they were to the rest of the world, and with his memory issues, he feared he would forget everything that wasn’t nailed down. It was inevitable that they would become simply stories instead of people, if not completely forgotten.

They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve to be forgotten. Though, he doubted that anyone else from his missing memory deserved that fate.

Surrounded by the last images of his brothers, Wild cried. He wept until his throat burned like he had accidentally swallowed a lizalfos spitting acid, like the world had come crashing down around him and he was stuck under tons of rubble, too far away from anyone to be saved.

For a moment, he was glad that he was alone, allowed to suffer in silence without the judgment or pity in anyone’s eyes, he didn’t have to be forced to pull himself together for the sake of others, to keep up some image he had been trained to maintain. For once he let himself feel the pain he had been avoiding for so long, he was so tired of flinching away and pretending that it wasn’t there.

He must’ve been sitting there for hours, letting time pass him by as he was consumed by grief. He knew he would feel better if he left, if he ran out of the dim pit he had discovered and found something else to take his interest, there were several Lynels just north of the temple, but he knew if he ran away, he would refuse to come back. He was just postponing the inevitable. He was lucky to see them for one last time, to have the closure most of them would never have had.

Eventually, he ran out of tears to cry and agony to fully feel. His violent sobs had left with only shaking breaths as proof they had been there in the first place. He felt no warmth from the torches, no peace from the silence.

The closest of Hyrules flowers caught his eye for a moment. He knew the gentle glow of the bloom anywhere. It was a silent princess, an especially luminous one. It seemed strange that anything beautiful could survive in the damaged crypt. It was almost cruel that something living would be forced to be trapped down there, surrounded by only death and mourning, never being able to see the sun. Perhaps he could convince Zelda to take it with them back home, maybe that would give him some sliver of solace in the shadows he had been banished to.

“Link? Are you down here? You know you can’t just run off anymore-” The scholar's inquiring voice broke the deafening silence, echoing around the stone walls. Her footfalls were determined and unafraid of the darkness that she ventured into. He could tell the moment she laid eyes on him, her voice trailing off into the decaying rock.

“Did something happen? Are you hurt?” She asked, but one look around the room helped her understand. She’d had a similar moment on Mount Hylia, where Impa had told them the King had been laid to rest. Seeing the monument of stalked stones made her realize that even after a hundred years, she’d never really processed what had happened. Link had to drag her out of the snow that day, so she wouldn’t be completely swallowed by mourning, and also frostbite.

Even in the dim light of the flickering flames, she could see the trails left by tears down his cheeks, how his eyes were left glossy and off-color. His long hair was partially in front of his face as if he had been bowing his head and only just recently lifted it and couldn’t bother fixing what had landed in front of his eyes. He had been sitting on shallow steps with his arms hugging at his legs bent protectively in front of his chest.

“Come on, this doesn’t look like a very comfortable place to sit,” She held out her hand, knowing that he would take it out of politeness and just stand up himself, she yanked him up before he could perform such chivalry. She noted that he didn’t let go of her after he regained his footing, only rotating his grip so they could walk alongside each other.

He took one last look at the flower before they could leave, its blue glow drawing his gaze automatically. But it wasn’t the silent princess that caught his eye, it was a familiar teal flame, dancing serenely at the very center of the room.

He blinked, and it was gone, but its afterimage was burned into his mind.

Spirit flame wasn’t uncommon for him to see, it always surrounded the ghosts of the champions, of the king, and even of him when he used his friend's gifts. It was the color of the stones said to anchor spirits to the mortal realm. It was the color of blupees and Satori and it was a distinctly different blue than the glowing flowers and the fire in ancient furnaces.

It wasn’t a shock for him to see, what better place would an energy like that appear than in a room filled with graves. It was clear to Link what that meant.

One of them had waited. During the eons of wars and peace and total destruction and rebuilding, one of them had waited for him. It was impossible to tell who, though he had a few guesses. But one thing was certain, he had not been alone in that room.

There was one thing Link took comfort in the idea of being trapped in an endless cycle, it was that no matter how much the beast tried, death would never be the end. They shared a name and a fate and a curse, but they also shared a spirit. No matter what happened, they would always be with him. After all, they were all the same person anyway.

Perhaps he would return for the flower before they left the excavation site entirely, or in a few years when the wound was less raw, or maybe he would simply never return at all. But for now, it was left with the heroes and what little remained of them. In any scenario, whether that be returning of his own free will or being placed with his brothers to rest there, as was the purpose of a tomb, he would be back. Someday he would join them again.

He would have to apologize for making them wait for so long.

#im switching between referring to him as wild and link on purpose btw #linked universe #linked universe wild #linked universe fic #linked universe fanfic #lu fic #lu wild #whumptober #whumptober 2022

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wordsandrobots · 19 days

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[@lilenui informs me today (8 April) is Shino/Yamagi day. Actually, they informed me of this via a post four days ago, which proves I can write fast when I have a looming deadline, since I bashed this out inside 24 hours.

Anyway, in honour of today, here's a flip-side piece to accompany Falling for a Fool. Content warnings for extremely bi himbo energy and general dumbassery.]

————

It shouldn't have meant anything.

It probably didn't.

Touching other people was such a normal part of everyday life, Shino barely thought about it most of the time. A nudge here, a knock there, the clasped hand or bumped fist, a slap on the back for a job well done or a kick to the ass for being an idiot. He couldn't count how often he'd lifted one of the little guys where they couldn't reach, or knocked about with those in his weight class, or simply slung his arm around a familiar pair of shoulders just because.

What was there too think about?

Why couldn't he get this time out of his head?

The battle with the mobile armour had been intense. A giant monster robot from hundreds of years ago on a rampage that nearly ended with Chryse getting flattened, that was only stopped because Mikazuki went all-out. When the dust settled, Tekkadan were heroes once again. They'd done something nobody had since the Calamity War and by rights it ought to have been the start of bigger and bigger things, putting them on the path to truly becoming the kings of Mars.

Hadn't worked out that way, but still: they got to prove how awesome they were!

And in the middle of it all, Shino headed out to fight in a mobile suit he barely knew how to use.

Yamagi had been pissed at being dragged into the cockpit to work the new Ryusei-Go's equipment. He didn't wait to start bombarding Shino with homework afterwards, insisting he wasn't about to take a job as a full-time operating manual. That sucked because reading a mountain of technical mumbo-jumbo was more likely to send Shino to sleep than help him understand the rail-guns and the transformation mechanism and so on, but he supposed it was fair.

He'd practised hard until he could remember which buttons did what, first try.

His record now stood at switching to and from shelling-mode three times in a row without throwing anything out of whack, which had earned him a rare nod of approval.

So all in all, the situation worked out well, for him specifically. He got a Gundam to call his own, did his part in the battle, bringing down a canyon to split the mobile armour off from its drone swarm, and Yamagi was still talking to him despite everything. Sure, with what had happened since, it felt like a very small achievement in amongst a storm of massive disasters, but you took what you could, right? It definitely wasn't nothing, to finally have the strength to protect his friends.

Yet the memory kept worrying at him, like a stone in his boot.

Not the whole thing, just one particular part.

Because there'd been this moment, on-route to the target, where he'd needed to swerve. He can't remember what he was avoiding, exactly. An outcropping or a crater, some common hazard of speeding across a rocky desert, pinging on his sensors. He'd done what he always did, throwing the Ryusei-Go into a sharp sideways jink, and normally that'd be that. Only, he had another person stuffed in there with him and when he hit the dodge harder than he'd meant to –

The cockpit rocked as he regained his balance.

And Yamagi's hand struck his shoulder.

Which made sense. Yamagi was sitting across Shino's knees, folded practically in half, and there wasn't anything else for him to have braced against. It was that or being pitched across the cabin. In any case, Shino hardly felt the touch. Yamagi was not what you'd call heavy, or especially strong. He could've pushed with all his might and it'd likely have done very little had Shino been standing up, much less sitting down with a back-rest behind him.

But Yamagi didn't push.

He flinched away and hunched up, and began tapping furiously at his data pad.

Now, true, Yamagi wasn't the world's biggest fan of being manhandled. A holdover from how he got treated when he first joined the CGS and quite a lot of the time after then, before Orga took charge. Probably from being a small, slim little guy who worked for a military company in general, really, especially since getting so badly sick from the Alaya-Vijnana surgery meant he never took to the training. It was understandable, if he was sensitive over getting shoved around

Shino did his best to respect that, even when circumstances meant he needed to physically move Yamagi about the place.

Yamagi usually let him know if he went to far, with glares that had him regretting his life choices.

Except this wasn't that. Yes, Shino did catch hold of Yamagi as well, to stop him going flying, and got shrugged off for his trouble, but he was fairly sure that hadn't been the reason for the reaction. No glare, for one thing. Could it run both ways? Did a dislike of being touched make you hate touching? That didn't sound right. Then again, Shino couldn't say he'd ever paid much attention to who or what Yamagi went around touching. Maybe it was just something he'd failed to notice?

No, hang on, Yamagi helped him put on Alaya-Vijnana connector blocks all the time.

Surely he'd have noticed if that made Yamagi uncomfortable?

If they hadn't been fighting a life-or-death battle, and if Orga hadn't chosen that exact moment to come on the comm to tell them to get a move on, Shino would probably have asked Yamagi what was up then and there. He regretted missing the chance. He got too caught up in the high of victory to remember to do it when they made it back home, only thinking he should after Yamagi had already shoved the pad into his hands and hurried off, boots dangling from his…

Wait.

Did Yamagi run away from him?

He replayed the scene in his head, trying to recall the exact expression with which Yamagi delivered the instruction to read the damn files already. He'd had his head lowered, fringe falling across his face, making it hard to see fully and meaning it was even harder to picture in hindsight. Vaguely annoyed and despairing? That wasn't exactly unusual. Sometimes, Shino genuinely wondered why Yamagi had put up with him for so long.

That was probably why Shino was worrying about this.

He and Yamagi made such a good team, he hated the idea of anything coming between them.

Was it just a gross place to put your hand? Checking for himself, running a finger around the point under his collar bone where the slab of muscle on his chest gave way to his arm, there didn't seem to be any strange bumps or warts or whatever. Maybe the bare skin felt bad? Mobile suit cockpits weren't much better than mobile workers when it came to overheating and getting ugly-sweaty. Except Yamagi had been wearing gloves…

And Shino never got complaints from people who touched him there while working up a nicer kind of sweat!

The thought wrapped around to hit his brain like a live grenade.

No. No! Absolutely not. Why would he think for even a second that that had anything to do with it? Sure, yeah, it was technically an intimate place to touch, and looking at things from that angle – the angle where he hadn't been wearing a shirt and he and Yamagi were closer than they'd ever been before in their lives – then the connection wasn't a totally wild one to make. Under other circumstances, for other people, it might have been sensible. But come on!

Did Yamagi seriously think Shino thought he'd been trying to cop a feel?!

That was crazy!

For starters, Shino would never think that. Tekkadan was his family and as far as he was concerned, that put everyone else in it squarely off-limits when it came to any sort of intimate touching, giving or receiving. That was just… obvious. Orga said they were a family, and Shino cared about the guys around him the way you were supposed to care about your brothers, so of course he wasn't about to start leaping to all the wrong conclusions just because –

It suddenly occurred to him he hadn't ever checked if the others took the same meaning from what Orga said as he did.

Perhaps he needed to change angles again.

Yamagi being into guys wouldn't be the most surprising thing. All the crap the First Group bastards used to sling around aside, it was hard not to notice how uninterested Yamagi was in girls. Or at least, he wasn't interested in going out on the town to pick them up. Like Orga, except without the feeling the point was flying over his head. Yamagi seemed to understand sex as a concept, he just didn't appear to want it with the kind of people who showed up in Shino's magazines.

Didn't he ask if Shino was into girls once? As though there could be any doubt!

…had he maybe wanted a different answer?

OK, this was starting to feel weird. Now Shino was wondering if he'd ever seen Yamagi look at someone in a way that suggested he wanted to get it on with them! He was always so quiet and serious, it was ard to picture him being horny. Or giving anybody the time of day, honestly. The closest he got was maybe how he'd looked when they were putting the Alaya-Vijnana into the Graze Custom. The intense concern he'd shown over the pain the testing caused Shino.

Since then, he'd made it a mission to always perfectly tune Shino's A-V system, to avoid it hurting him again.

Did… did he do that for anyone else?

An itch spread across Shino's scalp as he took stock of the sheer amount of stuff he relied on Yamagi to do for him. Hell, there hadn't been a question that he'd be the one to head off to the Saisei to get Gundam Flauros fixed and turned into Ryusei-Go the Fourth. Shino bought the paint out of his own pocket but he'd known he could rely on Yamagi to make sure his new machine came back a roaring pink. Shino knew he could rely on Yamagi, full-stop, with pretty much everything.

Which was great!

Having a comrade – a friend – who'd make sure he got what he needed to fight the way he wanted was amazing!

Why though? Why did Yamagi do that? Shino was always bugging him with new ideas and he was always going along with them, despite his better sense. Sometimes, he'd explain bluntly why a suggestion was stupid and impossible given their resources, then come back an hour later with a plan to get close to something like what Shino wanted, and the result would turn out even better. In fact, the only time he'd flat-out refused was…

When they talked about funerals.

When Yamagi said he'd not make ice flowers bloom for Shino because they were too expensive.

Shino got the strong urge to slap himself across the face. He'd known he was being given the brush-off back then, it just hadn't occurred to him that was because – because, well, how could it have been? 'Cos when you started bringing in things like… then you weren't talking about sex any more, were you? And he could deal with somebody thinking he was hot, he could handle them being embarrassed over that, but if it was more than just a guy into guys being into a hot guy –

He was getting ahead of himself.

Way, way, way ahead of himself.

So what if Yamagi's flinch could possibly, maybe be taken as a response to… that. What other clues were there? He hadn't squirmed or blushed. He was a predictable level of snitty over being treated as on-site tech-support. He'd… not exactly been pleased when Shino got a tiny bit loud over Ride using Ryusei-Go the Third to snag the monster's attention. Nothing out of the ordinary for someone so cool under pressure, the only sign of nerves was a single foot tapping against Shino's knee.

Hold on.

Back up.

For a long few minutes, Shino sat with what snatches he could remember from before the flinch. The yelp Yamagi gave on being hoisted through the hatch. The restless patter of his toes, like he was trying to grab on with them. The all-business voice in which he rattled off information about the Flauros cannons. The faint reek of engine oil, soaked into his overalls, mingling with the new-clean smell of the cockpit and the animal musk of another body. The way he kept looking away –

None of it should have meant anything.

It still probably didn't.

But if Shino's suspicions were on the mark, then there was somebody in Tekkadan who did not think of him as family, or at least, not the kind of family Shino had assumed they were. Which meant he needed to figure out what to do next, because he couldn't just leave the guy hanging after going so long without realising. He'd have to say something, do something, decide if he wanted to see what came of saying yes…

Surprisingly, there didn't seem to be much of a question over that.

Good to know.

Even so, he ought to make sure. It'd be a huge pain in the ass if he worked himself up to asking an important question only to find he'd completely misread the situation. That'd be a real jerk move, inflicting such an awkward mess on Yamagi, and then Shino'd be the one dealing with horrible embarrassment. No, the smart thing would be to get a second opinion, check his working, make sure he wasn't chasing down the wrong rat hole with all of this.

And Eugene was sitting right there, so –

“Hey, can we talk about Yamagi? Do you think he… likes me or something?”

#shino x yamagi #norba shino #yamagi gilmerton #gundam iron blooded orphans #gundam ibo #g tekketsu #tekketsu no orphans #fanfic #my fic #spoilers

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meanlesbean · 3 months

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Elegy of Emptiness

The people of Clock Town refer to Ikana as a dead land. The only things that live there, they say, are the cursed and the already half-gone. Dampé, as a gravekeeper, falls into the latter. Pamela’s father, though he’s been freed of the Stone Tower’s blight, is still considered the former and would be a pariah if he ever tried to return to town permanently. Even Sakon, outcast as he is, doesn’t dare cross the river separating the heart of the old kingdom from its outlying lands, doesn’t dare venture where he may fall under the tower’s gaze.

The people of Clock Town are wrong about a lot of things, but Link can’t blame them for this. As far as they can understand, they’re right. The land is watered by the blood of a war that not even death could end, and anything that tries to lay its roots there is bound to absorb its poison. The Garo would not let Ikana claim their corpses for a reason. Only something as powerful and primordial as the Great Fairy of the canyon could endure uncorrupted, and even so, she did not let Ikana catch her unarmed.

Link, however, has a bit better understanding of magic and curses than the average citizen of Termina. And after letting the tower swallow him whole, after sealing the doors that let the tower’s rot engulf the lands below, he has a better idea of why he could replenish the river and free the Giant and save all of Termina, but he could never restore Ikana.

He should have known as soon as he learned the Elegy of Emptiness. What’s left of the kingdom of Ikana is a husk with no heart.

And like a shell abandoned by a hermit crab, anything is free to crawl inside and make a home with the remains.

#may clean this up and add more later but we shall see #majora's mask #my fic #technically this is #cadence fic #but it would only ever be a mask pov snippet

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indigowallbreaker · 6 months

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“Why didn’t you say h-how bad it was?” for Edelgard/Dorothea

I've returned from Dimiashe week! Went back and forth on who should say this but I think I'm happy where I settled.

[prompt rules]

[more Beagles stories]

5. “Why didn’t you say h-how bad it was?”

Dorothea's consciousness had been struggling to come to the surface but finally broke through when a guttural roar sounded through the canyon. Pain returned with the consciousness, and Dorothea gasped as the claw marks across her chest burned with renewed agony.

"Quiet," hissed the person keeping her upright. "Caspar is trying to distract the hawk."

Pushing away the feeling of blood dripping down her torso, Dorothea looked around. Caspar was, indeed, calling out insults and waving his arms at the giant bird that had appeared at the mouth of the Red Canyon. It seemed to be working well enough. The hawk was advancing on him and shrieking.

Dorothea leaned into her savior's side. "Thank you, Edie."

Edelgard had one arm wrapped around Dorothea's waist, the other holding her axe handle firmly. "Don't thank me yet. We are still not safe."

"But if you're here, I assume that means our dear Professor is alright?"

"Yes. They should be here with Hubert at any moment."

The jacket of Dorothea's uniform stuck to her skin, darkening with blood. She bit back another gasp and Edelgard began backing them behind a large red stone boulder. Only once they were out of sight of the hawk did Edelgard turn to Dorothea. "How do you feel? They need us back out there."

"G-Give me a moment." Dorothea put a hand over her chest, trying to summon any white magic. She cursed when a feeble trickle brushed against the wound. That wouldn't do it. "Hold on." She began rumaging in her bag for a vulnerary.

Edelgard peered around the boulder. "Hurry," she urged, tightening her grip on her axe.

Dorothea nodded, lips pursed and head swimming. She had to patch herself up and help her classmates. She had to get revenge on that stupid bird. She had to make sure they got the Professor out of here...

The world pitched sideways.

"Dorothea!"

Edelgard's panic forced Dorothea's eyes back open. She was laying with her head in Edelgard's lap. It didn't feel like any time had passed-- but then, how did Edelgard get behind her?

A hand brushed away the shredded part of her uniform and Dorothea heard Edelgard breathe in sharply. "Why didn’t you say h-how bad it was?” The tremor in her voice was almost as painful as the claw marks.

Dorothea touched Edelgard's wrist to stop her fretting. "I'm fine, Edie, don't--"

"You are not fine! I shouldn't have led you all out here with me. We were not prepared." The worry suddenly left Edelgard's expression and left behind a scowl. "What are you smiling about?!"

"Sorry," Dorothea said, moving her hand to grip Edelgard's properly. "It's just funny, someone like you fretting over someone like me." Her eyes slipped shut again. "You're a special one, Edie..."

Dorothea could hear Edelgard calling for Hubert and the Professor. She could feel Edelgard practically digging her nails into the back of Dorothea's hand. She could feel the earth shake as another beast descended upon the canyon.

And yet, Dorothea felt totally, utterly, safe.

#fire emblem three houses #dorothea arnault #edelgard von hresvelg #beagles run #red canyon is a setting i dont think ive used before

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kyogre-blue · 7 months

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Remire month! Uuuuurgh, this is dragging. I just do not care about the Eagles enough to feel motivated here.

There's a few points worth noting though.

First, regarding Solon. He came to the monastery posing as Tomas only a year prior, explicitly to target Flayn. From this, the implication seems to be that Flayn has only been at the monastery 1-2 years. Questions that remains:

Why was she targeted but not Seteth? Could be that she's an easier target because she can't fight, or it could be because headcanon: she's half human. Or could be a secret third thing.

What was her blood used for, specifically? During the Sothis paralogue, Hubert and Edelgard discuss how the demonic beast is a "wild" one, which is a distinction that makes sense only if they already know about creating artificial ones, so based on that and the overall timeline, I don't think Flayn's blood is tied to turning people into Demonic Beasts. And there isn't really a lot else the Agarthans do in the present day. Unless they used her blood to make Nemesis and his fake Sword of the Creator...?

Second, regarding monsters:

During the Sothis paralogue, Edelgard makes a clear distinction between "wolves" and "hawkes" that are beasts, and a Demonic Beast. Hubbie makes a clear distinction that this is a "wild" Demonic Beast, a stray. They totally know about making people into Demonic Beasts.

Poking at the descriptions of the enemy units, the animals are "Giant Beasts" which have ingested "Dark Stones" and grown to incredible size due to the magic they absorbed (presumably from the dark stones they ate). The Wild Demonic Beast on the other hand has a "Cracked Crest Stone" and is described as having lost all sense of reason.

Notably, Maurice could talk despite having been a demonic beast for nearly a thousand years. He was often overcome by his bloodlust, but he retained a degree of reason above that of this wild demonic beast and also Miklan. Extrapolating from that, it might be possible for other demonic beasts to also speak or retain an even greater level of control over themselves.

Since demonic beasts can occur "in the wild," this seems to mean that a human being could encounter a crest stone "in the wild" and get turned into one. It's really unclear how many children of the goddess there actually were or whether crest stones are a 1 dragon = 1 stone deal. Can Nabateans create additional crest stones aside from the one they presumably keep inside themselves? Or did some crest stones end up being passed around after the Red Canyon?

Third, regarding Hubert and Edelgard, the backstory they give about their relationship is kind of puzzling. Hubert was made Edelgard's retainer at a very young age and is insanely loyal to her from the get-go. Was Edelgard always the heir due to having a crest, and that's why Hubert, the heir to the house that specifically become the Emperor's retainers, got assigned to her?

But that aside, why is Hubert SO loyal? And why does he make it sound like that loyalty was instilled by his father, when his father betrayed the Emperor later? Did they fall out, or did Hubert's dad also get replaced lol

Additionally, the entire way their history is presented... Edelgard claims to remember meeting him when she was 4, and Hubert praises her good memory? Edelgard, who specifically has holes in her memories? Hubert basically says he's hiding things from her and also says he doesn't remember this meeting, so like... are some of Edelgard's memories outright fake? What are we even supposed to make of this?

Anyway, liveblogging notes:

Remire village has a variety of symptoms reported: restless movements, fits of violence, becoming bedridden or even impossible to wake.

It's interesting that the Church is looking into this. Remire is in Imperial territory. Technically, it's not the church's problem, since there's not really any Church-related involved.

Manuela guesses it's either a combination of poisons or else dark magic.

Hubert and Edelgard point out that the same people (Death Knight and unknown mages) were involved with both the Western Church and Flayn's kidnapping. However, they also state that this doesn't mean these incidents and Remire are part of the same plot. Rather, it may be "different motives overlapping." Presumably, because Edelgard wants to let Byleth in on her goals being separate from the Agarthans' goals.

Tales of the Red Canyon is available this month but not the prior ones. It doesn't seem to stem from doing the Eagle Lion Battle, so is it related to Byleth's mystery illness? One of the explore NPCs says that monsters are more active during Red Wolf Moon, so is it just that?

Petra mentions that Brigit is a small island caught between the much larger nations of Dagda and the Empire.

Hubert and Edelgard B: Edelgard says they met when she was 4 years old. Hubert praises her perfect memory, which in this context makes me wonder if she's misremembering something about how they met. Hubert says he was six and does not remember it.

He remembers instead when she was injured. Her father scolded him and told him to protect Eddie with his life. Which is interesting given that iirc Hubbie's father betrayed the emperor.

They were together a lot until Arundel took Edelgard to the Kingdom. Hubbie went nuts, tried to run after her and fought with soldiers sent to bring him back for three days before being dragged back. (lmao?? he was ten? Then Eddie was eight?)

Hubbie all but confirms that he's keeping things from Edelgard.

This whole support is.... hm. It sure portrays Edelgard in an interesting light. A vulnerable light lol

Bernie and Petra B... Bernie can't handle the thought of killing vegetables or plants, but we're supposed to believe she shoots people on the battlefield.

Speaking of Sothis's mystery illness, I wonder if it's supposed to be caused by the Remire experiments? She mentions that she feels sleepy and that this feeling is familiar to her.

Caspar mentions that his father came by during the Eagle Lion Battle and talked to Edelgard, even though the two of them previously did not get along. Probably planning the attack on Garreg Mach?

Catherine has been at the monastery for four years, Shamir for five.

Ferdinand explore mentions that yes, Remire is the village where the game starts, and also wonders if one of the house leaders knew there were mercenaries there when they sought shelter there during Kostas's attack. Can't be Dimitri and... seems to not be Edelgard? So are we supposed to suspect Claude for some reason? Could just be throwaway dialogue for some reason.

Sylvain brings up the plague in Faerghus, which was almost 20 years ago and killed the queen-consort (Dimitri's mom). It was dealt with by Cornelia. This is just making me more suspicious that the Faerghus plague was caused by the Agarthans too lol

Two-toned whetstone trading chain: books of crestology to Hanneman > book of saints to Manuela > Fire Amulet to Cyril > Glowing Stone to Mercedes > "The Path of Dawn" to Marianne > Medicinal Eyedrops to Linhardt > two-toned whetstone

Hubert B: He explains how he's been sizing you up for assassination, but you're a tough nut. He also explains how, when Arundel returned to the Empire with Edelgard, he worked with PM Aegir and Hubbie's dad to render the Emperor "politically impotent."

He says he can "almost see" a second self lurking beneath the surface of Byleth... just like Arundel! Who is an evil shapeshifter pretending to be Arundel, which Hubbie knows.

Alois and Shamir paralogue: Derdiu in Riegan territory... Gamer lean forward.

The Merchants' Association sent a request for protection via the Eastern Church. What exactly is House Riegan doing that the merchants are asking the church instead lol?

The Eastern Church doesn't have a standing army. They want to contribute to make their presence known in the Alliance. But the Central Church has too much on its plate, so they're sending one super badass mercenary and some noble kids instead.

GW doesn't have a Derdiu map, so it's cute to see it. It's got little umbrellas along the area we can't go to.

The pirates pretend to be Almyran navy. So like... people know this navy exists (because it has attacked before?) or are the pirates jus making shit up?

We deploy to Remire because the situation escalates suddenly. Villagers start killing each other and houses go up in flames. ...I already forgot what we were expecting to do there at the start of the month, when the situation wasn't as drastic.

Nothing terribly interesting at Remire. Oh, I forgot to check the enemy X info... I thiiink some of them were listed as being with the Flame Emperor? Man, the actual characters have only seen the Flame Emperor once before this, right? Uuuuugh when was it? At the Holy Mausoleum (the fake one)? Or during Flayn's kidnapping?

Solon does explicitly confirm he posed as Tomas and came to the monastery to get Flayn's blood. He also conducted the experiments at Remire specifically in regard to Flayn's blood. I do think, though, that they already had a way of making Demonic Beasts, since Hubert and Edelgard emphasize that the one in the Sothis paralogue was "wild" (as opposed to artificially created). Not sure what they really wanted from Flayn's blood. Given how bad this game is about loose ends, probably nothing specific.

Anyway, the timeline is that real Tomas joined the monastery 40 years ago, then 8 years ago went back to Ordelia, where he presumably was killed and replaced in time to return to the monastery last year. This implies Flayn has been at the monastery for maybe 1-2 years. It also lines up with Monica's disappearance, for what that's worth.

Flame Emperor shows up after the battle to tell us that "he" is working with Solon, yes, but they do not have the same goals, and if "he" had known about what Solon was planning, he totally would have stopped him. But like I said, Edelgard and Hubert discuss the wild Demonic Beast in the Sothis paralogue in a tone like creating artificial beasts is a thing that they know about, so I don't think Edelgard is unaware that the Agarthans are constantly doing human experimentation even in the present day.

Seemingly, the Flame Emperor shows up here just to test the waters about Byleth joining "him."

Funny how Hubert runs up "have you seen Lady Edelgard??"

Sothis says she does not recall a previous time that you were at the monastery (when Jeralt mentions both of you leaving there), but like... she ALSO specifically discusses how she wasn't awake before the game started. So did she flip through Byleth's memories, ooooor....?

Tomas was from the Alliance, Jeritza was from the Empire, and though they do not connect it, these mysterious foes (the Agarthans) messed around with the Western Church in the Kingdom. So the mystery is set up that this foe has infiltrated multiple nations and has great reach. But lmao this isn't going to get addressed in two of four routes....?

#playing fire emblem

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