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Fandom reawakening: calamity

We’re not former enemies, she wanted to tell him, I never knew you. Atara was too kept under lock and key to ever have had a run in with him, she was taught how to fight, vigorously so, but she never used it in regards to the Yiga. She just knew they were bad, the same as every Sheikah. Her mother, she was a different story, Keenan could have been associated with that. Atara just didn’t want to think about it.

She let out a breath of air, forcing herself to focus on something else, “all of our conversations have been civil.” As he seemed to consider a different nickname, one of her eyebrows raised inquisitively. If he had come up with something cute, she might have allowed it, instead it was merely aggravating. Once again, she shot him a venomous look, “I’ve come to the conclusion that you simply don’t value your life.”

The change in conversation made her thankful, content with the subject revolving around Saran. Even if Keenan and her held different views. She noted, however, that the chat prior had Keenan in a much better, teasing mood. “I know who we’re going against,” she was the one who made the journey to the shrine of resurrection, she was the one who discovered the hero's disappearance. She had been given plenty of time to think of who exactly they were up against. “You just don’t harm a child, not if there’s another way.”

Atara couldn’t pinpoint why she was so adamant about protecting the boy. She hadn’t received the same when she was a youngling. With the other children, she had been an outsider, with the adults, something akin to unpure. She solely knew the thought of him being hurt made the very core of her being angry.

When Keenan spoke back up her eyes met his, a clash of emerald and ruby. His religious beliefs did little to bother her, really, she didn’t think she had prayed often either. As a child, when she wanted nothing more than to be saved, but not now. “It was a suggestion, princess Zelda herself visited those springs. Praying to the Goddesses might not seem appealing to you, but for that boy.. it might help.”

Atara scrunched up her nose, for the second time, at his repetition of the nickname, distaste clear on her features. “Atara,” she corrected, although she was certain it did little to persuade him. “You think you would be nicer to someone who’s keeping a secret for you, you know?” Not like she thought anyone would care. He used to be a Yiga, he wasn’t affiliated with them now.

She had doubts anyone would worry about them. Two adults, fully capable of handling themselves. Still, she finished off the last drink of her tea and held out the cup to him. “It was good, thank you.” He probably thought ill of her for accepting the drink, what if he had put something in it to harm her? She couldn’t help but feel he wouldn’t, that he wasn’t that type of person anymore.

With the last piece to his tea set returned to him, Atara placed her hands on either side of herself and pushed up and off the log. “I suppose you’re right, Grima needs help with the children.. I’m sure three of them are a hassle, four if you include B.” She pursed her lips as a familiar redhead made their way into the back of her mind, “and Aisha, I should check on her.”
 
The passing night did little to settle much of Aisha’s nerves, even if the time to sit and properly mediate did help calm the roiling mess of emotions that her little incident kicked up. Fortunately, the rest of the group found itself far too occupied with other matters leaving her to collect herself in peace. That or her magic held, but Aisha doubted that. Magic cast without a firm state of mind tended to be slipshod at best, and nothing about her existing state of mind would pass as steady. That also meant doing another once over for her glamours, just to prevent another incident.

For that matter, trusting Keenan felt dubious to the Twili. While he certainly had a secret or five, just because two people had secrets didn’t mean they should trust one another. Or, Aisha reminded herself, that didn’t mean they shouldn’t trust one another either, and she could well be overly paranoid for reasons that largely amounted to she’d always been paranoid and why start now. And, frankly he represented her best chance to learn what the hell that was and figure out more about it…even if that did risk her doing something dumb again. It really had been too long, and she’d forgotten how intoxicating that feeling could be, even for someone who specialized in sneaky things, and not in throwing out the magic that impressed people.

Her lips twisted in an ugly scowl at that thought, banishing the small illusions that would have kept anyone from approaching. That feeling probably meant it better that she stayed a little away from Saran for the time being, at least until she got her own head under control, even if that probably also made her look like a complete twit. More of a twit than her usual antics did. A long stretch, and a sigh followed. Hopefully it wouldn’t be time to face the music. Hopefully.
 
KEENAN

If he were a nicer man Keenan would’ve simply quit pestering the poor girl, but months of living on his own had loosened his tongue to the point he had simply stopped caring what other people think. If anything he was having fun seeing Atara try to remain civil. She took a deep breath, her poorly hidden glare suggesting a threat of harm should she decide to throw a knife only to be held back by self control.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that you simply don’t value your life.”

At that Keenan snorted. She was just now catching on? He would’ve thought the fact he walked straight into the lion’s den (Kakariko village) would’ve been a good enough clue. Even though Impa decided to spare his life, it didn’t change the fact he had gone there aware of his likely demise.

His skepticism aside, Atara did have a point about the springs. The Yiga had in their records that the princess had traveled to all 3 springs and while she hadn’t awakened her powers right upon visiting them, perhaps they helped trigger the eventual strength she would need to fight off a horde of guardians. There were also a few logs suggesting the springs had been used as places of healing and rest in the distant past. He didn’t know if there was any truth to them and yet…

He sighed, reluctantly nodding. “If we find ourselves out of almost all options that might be one thing to try I suppose, though I’m not sure how effective they’ll be since, as far as we know, Saran isn’t a wielder of the triforce. Who’s to say he wouldn’t be boiled alive the moment he stepped into a spring?” The mental image made him wince, especially when he replaced Saran with himself. That would be a unpleasant way to go. “I’m biased though, so he could be right as rain in the end.”

At the mention of secrets he chuckled, the heavy weight on his chest lessening slightly. “Oh how you wound me. If you had truly wanted to tell the others my secret you would’ve done so already right?”

Atara then handed him the empty tea cup, even thanking him for it. Keenan blinked, shaking his head. “I don’t understand you Twinkletoes, not one bit. Even so…thanks.”

They both stood. They need to be making their way back to their companions. It seemed Atara would be busy the rest of the night, even going so far as saying she needed to “check” on Aisha. Keenan couldn’t help but feel bad for the mysterious archer. “I suppose that’s it then. There should be a few more hours left before sunrise so I would get some rest if I were you. It’s going to be a long ways to our destination.”

As they started heading back to camp, he had a sudden urge to say something. There was a long pause before he finally added, “Also, here’s a little advice. Trusting others is fine, but don’t let yourself be blind to how brutal reality can be.”

Though he didn’t know Atara very well, she could be kind and caring, perhaps too much. He just hoped that and her naivety wouldn’t get her killed in the end.

Interacting with: endersheart endersheart
 
For a moment Atara studied the curve of his lips, the way they pulled up into the slightest smile at his teasing. It was annoying, she told herself, how he purposefully irked her and found it amusing. Made more so by the simple carelessness he showed in regards to himself.

At his exaggeration it was her turn to snort, adding on a roll of her eyes, “sure, boiled alive, that sounds likely.” Saran not being a wielder of the Triforce was true, but she was sure people went for more reasons than awakening an ancient power. There was a part of her that wondered why he was so adamant on it being a last resort, but she didn’t pry.

Letting out a contemplative noise, she tapped her chin, “hmm, I wonder?” Keenan was right, she wouldn’t tell the group. “Maybe I would let it eat away at your conscience for a bit, then tell them.” That was un-Sheikah like. Allowing a momentary pause, she shifted her feet and crossed her arms, “But, no.. I guess you're right, I wouldn’t tell them.” It wasn’t her secret to tell, after all.

Once they had gotten themselves together, they headed back to camp. Atara realized, being next to him, that even at her height he was taller than her. It was fitting, she thought. I suppose that’s it then, his words made her wonder if he had wanted to spend more time together. Odd, since he didn’t seem to be too fond of her. “That’s funny,” she mused, “coming from someone who doesn’t sleep.”

A few moments passed, brief silence, until Keenan spoke up again. This time, Atara hummed thoughtfully, “if you had wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have helped me back on Sahasra Slope.” She peeked up at him, “and I doubt you’d poison me now.” The clearing where the camp lay came into view, the trees coming to an abrupt stop at the edge. “If you keep giving me “advice,” by the way, I may start to think you actually care.”

Atara came to a halt at the front of the camp, glancing around to make sure Aisha hadn’t returned. Upon confirmation, she gave Keenan a light smile, “maybe you should help Grima, it sounds well suited for you.” It didn’t, but the thought was amusing. Turning in the direction Aisha took off in, she gave him a little wave, “and try not to get too grumpy, this time.”

With that, she began her next task.

Aisha, she found, was harder to find, even tracking the little indents in the dirt proved to be difficult. It was like the girl walked on air, barely leaving a trail behind her. It wasn’t until she came to an area where the trees circled around a clearing, that she lifted a branch to finally come across the archer. “Aisha,” she called, gently, so as to not startle her. “You’ve been gone for a while, I was worried.”
 
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Despite knowing that she should circle back to the camp, Aisha took his time, just basking in the cool shadows. It classified as her one guilty pleasure, or perhaps the last bit of clinging to her heritage, that she liked the dark, and felt at home in it.

The rustle of trees disturbed those thoughts. Likely someone looking for her, as it was the wrong time, and even worse place, for wildlife. Turning, found Atara standing behind her. The statement-question might have been amusing but felt far too much like a verbal trap. Sizing up the other woman for a moment Aisha did her best to shrug nonchalantly.

“Lost track of time.” That much could not be called a lie. She did lose track of time, even if not for the reason one usually did. “Needed some quiet.” That probably required an additional statement, or at least something else to go along with it. Something to . “Kids are a bit loud.”

Despite a small desire to completely ignore the worry part, or at least, dismiss it as disingenuous. “There aren’t any monsters around to worry about. They seem content to stay back. We’ll just have to be careful when we start moving again, they were swarming when Keenan and I were on our way back.” Despite her best efforts, Aisha knew her fingers were beating into her thigh a little too much to seem normal.

Being not suspicious in the vicinity of: endersheart endersheart
 
Trill could see the Divine Beast circling his home from miles away. Miles and miles and miles away. So far away that, at first, he wasn't entirely sure, despite his inner compass, what exactly the location below that circling, vulture-like flight pattern would be. He didn't exactly tend to fly from one location to the next in a perfectly straight line. The wind currents and geography made it impractical. He'd never flown directly home from the south-east, either. His internal map of things relative to other things on that larger scale was slightly skewed, all landmarks being placed and distanced from each other primarily in relation to the routes he normally took to them.


The closer Trill got to home over the hours and hours of riding strong air currents at altitudes higher than he was used to, the heavier the rock in his stomach settled as it became more and more clear that Vah Medoh was circling high over the spire that served as the heart of his village.


He almost felt relieved that his actual house was a few miles east of the village, being his father's cabin in Upland Lindor where only the perch, the top of the spire, was visible past the canyon and over the ridge. Heavier was his guilt at the thought of relief alone. His people were no-doubt suffering, and here he was, safe and sound?


He was bone tired as he dropped roughly onto the porch. He'd never flown so long and so far with such little rest in his life. He likely should've paced himself better, but he didn't want to let the other… whatever it was they all were down. He'd had one and only one elixir for endurance that he'd taken. It wasn't healthy to have more than one of those a day, if that, and he only had one on him, along with the rest of his current supplies, in case somebody needed it. That somebody, as it turned out, was him.


He opened the door, practically falling into it and letting his weight do the work. Oh, how he wished he could've just gone straight to his hammock in the open air room on the roof, but no, there were much more important things than beauty sleep just now.


Beaked faces turned his way as he stumbled in, dropping his pack almost carelessly. Harth was here. His father had been in the middle of wrapping the warrior's wing. There was evidence of a complex ointment having been recently made on the table, mortar and pestle left out amongst bottled powders and the remains of fresh cuts from the garden. Tendrils of smoke were still rising from the fireplace under the pot there.


His dad actually looked a little relieved to see him. "You're home," he commented, voice level as ever as he tied off the end of the pristinely neat bandage. It looked like Harth would be grounded for some time.


There were kingdom-wide disasters and emergencies spreading like wildfire since the earthquakes. He was a doctor. He'd come home. Guilt ate at him.


But he wasn't here to hide under his parents' wings. He was here to be able to start this journey as well prepared as he could be to better help the others. Traveling on the ground was slow. Very slow. Surely nothing would happen within the first few days of travel that his presence would change much. He'd be back with them soon enough, much better equipped to handle any injuries or even illness that were bound to arise on this journey.


The problem was, how to even begin to explain any of this to his father. He wished, not for the first time, that his grandmother lived with them…. She was much easier to talk to.


"I can't stay for long, I'm afraid," he said, pouring himself a drink of water from the pitcher on the table. Before opening up his pack and beginning to rummage through the wall of drawers for various ingredients.


"Care to elaborate as to why you're ransacking our stores?" He didn't have to turn around to know his father's wings were folded.


Harth got to his feet. "I should… get going. Thank you again, doc." Smart man. Trill wished he could go with him. "It's good to see that you're well, Trill."


"Good to see you too, Harth. I'm afraid I won't have time to stop at the village. Tell my grandmother I said hello, won't you?"


"Will do." Harth picked up his bow from where it had been leaning against the wall and made his leave.


It was quiet, aside from the talons drumming on the floor.


Trill sighed, tying closed wax paper envelopes of dried herbs. "So. Long story…"


There was no prompting aside from silence. It was the worst.


Goddesses, how to explain this? "I… may have been called upon by some kind of mystical higher power? Along with a dozen or so others, and now we're on a journey to save Hyrule?" His shoulders cringed higher and higher as he spoke. He really should've led into that better….


He heard a heavy exhale and saw out of the corner of his eye, his father pinching where the top of his beak met feathers. (The bridge of the nose in human races.)


The man was quiet, taking the time to think. "Mystical higher power?" he asked.


"A voice in my head that I wasn't the only one to hear, yes." He knew it sounded… well….


"I believe you," his father said, distracting himself with tidying up the table. "You've never been a liar or one to tell tall tales." He sounded… long suffering. Almost exasperated. "But how do you know whose voice it was?"


He didn't. He didn't need or want to admit that.


"Are you sure you're cut out for such a journey?" He was restoppering bottles. "Patching up injuries and nursing sick children is one thing. This isn't going to be some storybook adventure, you know. There's going to be hardship. People are going to get hurt. Maybe even die. People bound to the ground travel painstakingly slow. So much can go wrong in that time and they can't fly away like you can. Will you be able to handle it when things go wrong? You've lived a very peaceful life,Trill. You're not made for heroics. Nor tragedy."


Trill fought his feathers from rising or puffing up. He took a deep breath, knowing better than to let his first thoughts be what left his beak. "They'll all fare better with me than without me." It was probably the most confident thing he'd said in his life. "The winds are taking me there for a reason. I may not be strong, or a fighter, but I can help people. I'm not asking for your permission or your approval."


"People need you, Trill," his father said, surprising him. "Dark skies are ahead. It would be a great shame if something happened to you. The medical field is one of many lost resources and forgotten arts. This world needs all the healing mastery it can get. We can't afford to lose any more healers than we can help."


Trill took a deep breath. His father was an insufferable man at the best of times, always able to ruffle Trill's feathers, usually without meaning to. If the crow was anything, it was honest and genuine. He was never one to mince words, cushion blows, or soften reality.


"I have to do this, dad," he said, grabbing a lightweight kit of surgical tools and a few rolls of bandages. "What's the point of it all if I don't put it to use where it's needed most?"


There was a wing on his shoulder. He faced his father.


"I can't say I'm happy," he said, face as neutral as ever. "This is far too sudden. But I am proud of you."


Trill broke down. He wrapped his father in his wings and squeezed. He'd told himself he'd never need to hear those words. But now that he was?


His father grunted at being squeezed, but chuckled, even grinning somewhat as he awkwardly returned the hug. "It's happened so fast, but you've grown into such a responsible and honorable young man. Surely, I can't take much credit for how kind you've turned out. Too kind, maybe… but perhaps that's what the world needs."


Trill let him go. "I need to get back."


"Where? Trill, you're dead on your feet. How long did you fly for? Get some rest, at least."


He ran through his mental checklist of things he'd wanted to grab. Rare preserved herbs and powders that could be quickly activated into powerful medicines and elixirs. Surgical tools. Suture thread. Bandages. Equipment for brewing and preparing ingredients more effectively on the road. "I can't just leave them for any longer than I have to."


His father sighed. "Don't you be reckless. You shouldn't start this journey already worn out and exhausted."


He was right… but it still made him feel guilty for wasting time.


"Full night's rest and a proper meal. Doctor's orders, Trill. Besides, I have something to give you before you go."


That something was a pouch of rupees and a ruby rod. It was a rare object, a small ruby set at the end of a thin metal rod, used by the more wealthy (usually in a gold variety) to easily light stoves and candles. Here, it was used to light burners, cauterize wounds, and sterilize equipment.


On top of it all, he was given a pouch of octoroc balloons. "Work smarter, not harder," his father told him. "That's a heavy pack now. You won't make it far in the air without help."


With the aid of the balloons, his pack felt practically weightless. It only caused some drag and awkwardness in his aerodynamics, making dodging aerocudas a trickier endeavor. Nonetheless, he was closing in on the Lanayru region fast as the sun set, making incredible time. Unfortunately, trying to find the rag-tag team in the dark would be an impractical endeavor. Instead, he touched down at the Wetland Stable for the night, setting up his travel hammock in the trees around it.


Asking after them, it sounded like their ensemble had passed by the stable late the day before, heading north. He'd likely be able to find them in a matter of hours come morning.
 
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  • Grima and Uriah
    Nessa, with the knowledge that, that would probably freak Saran out more, waved her hands. “It’s no big deal, though! We’ll get back to Gerudo and make lots of friends along the way. The people here are really nice, like Uriah, over there,” she paused to point, “she’s offered to take us frog catching!”

    At being mentioned, Uriah gave the twins a small smile and Saran a small wave in greeting.


    "Gods you guys really do like this one a lot more than the girl" B-206 said sarcastically " I don't think I have ever seen something so mushy" her voice going from sarcastic to like she had stepped in something beyond disgusting "So how long are we going to fawn and fuss over the boy's boo boo? " She asked again, becoming sarcastic.


    Uriah frowned as she glanced to B, wincing briefly at Keenan's response to the sword spirit shortly afterwards.

    "B, he's injured, it'd be kind of odd if no one worried." She spoke up. Even if it was just a scratch, she was told when she had started training with weapons that infection could be very deadly if not treated.


    Saran slowly followed his sisters point to see another girl amidst this crowd of strangers. They had all gradually started to appear to him and his impaired vision as the minutes passed. This one particular girl had black lofty curls that framed her face, and an soft gaze directed towards him and his sister. She sat a bit away, and he gave her a little awkward wave when he came into contact with her shimmery hazel eyes.


    “Wait..” Saran said without thinking. “What the heck is a frog?” There was still so much about this place that he didn’t understand. There was no sand, and so many plants everywhere. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, all he knew was that he wanted to get home.


    Luckily, Nessa answered this question, because Uriah almost forgot that the desert didn't have frogs. A shame really, they were missing out on the best small animal.

    "I think you'll like them, they're pretty great." She said matter-of-factly, a bit of amusement in her tone. If there was one thing she was ever right on, it was frogs being cute. They were just little friends.

    At Grima’s response, Atara beamed, “this will do! We can collect more on the road, but for now I think we’ll have enough.” Gratefully taking the extra Hyrule Herb from him, as well as the water, she nodded in thanks. She made sure to be careful with the pouch carrying the water, opening it before gently tilting it over to add just enough of the liquid. Once she was done, she lifted it back to Grima, certain he had other uses for it.


    "Good, it's better to have more than you need than to not have enough, in all honesty." He replied, returning both pouches where they belonged on the saddle.


    After Saran’s wound was dressed and Atara put the supplies away Grima was quick to note that he was essentially the only adult present to watch over the children; with Keenan being quick to make his exit and Atara leaving shortly after. B being distracted by Adagio was likely for the best as well. With that in mind he gave a quick sweeping gaze of the camp then moved to sit next to Uriah, making sure not to get into the twin's space and overwhelm them suddenly.

    The two had been crying a bit ago, which had prompted Uriah to scoot just a bit closer.

    "How are you guys feeling? It'd be best to rest while you can." He asked, glancing briefly to Uriah before glancing back to the twins. Uriah was trying not to look tired the longer she sat there, because she definitely wasn't.

    "I'm not tired, but I dunno about them since Saran just woke up." She answered, before glancing to the twins.

    "Oh, this is Grima, he's my...uh, sort of not-father?" She introduced, brows furrowed. Grima gave an amused huff as he gave the twins a wave.

    Interactions: Atara and Nessa ( endersheart endersheart ), Saran ( Hopos Hopos ), B ( Karcen Karcen )


    Mentioned: Adagio ( Naburius Naburius ), Keenan ( Aura Of Twilight Aura Of Twilight )
 
Despite her best efforts, a small frown made it’s way onto Ataras features, then quickly diminished. “You’re as bad as Keenan, if not worse, you two were barely around the kids.” It came in a half-kidding tone, she really did wonder if the two of them had rubbed off on one other.

Making her feet work, she came to stand next to the redhead, “do you mind if I sit?” She didn’t want to overwhelm her, really, and Aisha seemed very kept to herself. Atara understood that it was hard to open up, she rarely told others about herself. Aisha just seemed to be entirely uncomfortable with others, to the point she’d rather not be near them.

The comment about monsters bothered her, unsure of why after so much peacefulness they would have been around Aisha and Keenan. She wondered if it had to do with the boy; with the ritual Keenan had mentioned. Pursing her lips, she sighed, “you can handle yourself, I’m sure, you have just been gone for a while.” Long enough for her to get the other one back to camp.

She took in the nervous habits, the unintentional drumming of Aisha's fingertips. The archers' anxiety shone through in a way most peoples didn’t. Ataras face, unintentionally, twisted into something sympathetic, “what’s going on, really?”
 
“Sure.” Aisha didn’t see a reason to tell Atara she couldn’t sit, and that would probably just be weird in general. It did a little bit to quell her panic, although raised the problem of extricating herself from this situation.

What was wrong could have filled a book, of course. And, also most of all, it was not something she could bring up. “Just not used to being around people.” That felt like the best answer to give, or at least the one that wouldn’t raise a million questions. “This is the most, and longest, I’ve been around a group in…” Aisha cocked her head, trying to count, realizing the timescale didn’t quite match, and gave up. “A very long time.”

Studying Atara for a while, Aisha realized that she didn’t know all that much about any of them but picking up anything about Atara from observation proved tricky. She felt relatively confident in guessing that Atara was not a Hylian, but beyond that she couldn’t glean much. Of course, just coming out and saying that felt like a terrible plan. She could, however, maybe dance around the edges. “I’m used to be out in the wilderness on my own, not with a whole group, who are less than subtle.” Her lips quirked in an attempted smile. “Usually means I’m coming back empty handed, and for a hunter, that isn’t good.”

With: endersheart endersheart
 
The ‘sure’ was all the confirmation Atara needed to allow herself to plop next to Aisha. She kept her knees up, crossed her arms around her knees, and laid her cheek against them as she watched the archer curiously. While Aisha picked her words in a careful manner, she still exposed what seemed to be bits and pieces of herself. It was hopeful, Atara hadn’t expected her to say anything at all.

“Being in a group with lots of personalities can be hard, I find myself struggling to keep up sometimes too.” She found it was her own character; either clashing with the others or overwhelmed by them. She only had so much social battery before it died out and she’d been overexerting for the sake of being friendly. She’d noticed some people were also easier to talk to than others. Aisha and Grima, for example.

Had the redhead's gaze been less glaringly obvious, Atara might have been able to hold down the short bit of laughter that escaped her lips. “You look at me like I’m hard to figure out,” she wasn’t, really. “I can see the problem with that, not being able to do what you're used to with so many people around.. I’m sure it’s been a big change.”

She shifted her gaze to the trees in front of them, “I guess.. I just don’t know much about that sort of stuff.”
 
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Atara’s comment would have brought a flush of embarrassment to Aisha’s checks, but her constructed appearance didn’t allow for that, leaving the only sign of being caught the rapid way she looked away. “You aren’t easy to figure out. And I’m bad at it.” None of them were easy to figure out, really, although Atara was somewhat harder to read than the others.

“I’ve spent more of my life alone than with people.” Even back ‘home’ that could be seen as true. Curiosity could breed friends, but equally could get you into trouble, if you started asking questions. People, both Twili, and not Twili, didn’t like questions in Aisha’s experience. And without any clue if Atara was the sort to be tolerant of questions, so many pressing ones had to be left aside.

That final comment drew a pensive frown from Aisha. “You don’t know a lot about what?” That comment didn’t make to much sense in a vacuum, or maybe she was reading to much into it again. “
 


  • B-206
    mentions:

    sample_0267ba23368440a9414a9baa30d21fd0ff16ad5a.jpg

    The silence in the air was annoying and B-206 wondered where the others had all wandered off too. There was giving room and there was ditching people. Things were awkward and it let B-206 stew on what little she remembered. She also got to think on or try to grab what she had always been attached too. Her hate, her spite, and her anger that had always been whatshe projected. With just this little breach she felt like what she had used to lash out and the only thing she had was slipping. She could feel the emotions inside her they weren't gone, but something made it harder to call it out. It was frustrating, but she had never had any real memories that she could use and thus made the anger all she had. Now she had at least one moment of peace she could call upon.

    " I mean it's you who is waiting so whatever " B-206 said awkwardly as she wrestled with the inability to actully come up with the old anger. " That thing you are making try to make it hang off the swords pomel " B-206 continued for once referencing herself as separate from the sword. " OH and thank you... it's nice to have a real memory I think " She hastily added not used to saying thank you or showing vulnerability that wasn't wrapped in anger.

 
🗡 Bemere
『 TAGGED 』 CyberJackal CyberJackal

Kakariko felt like a bad dream. It's been awhile since she last saw Deti, a couple of weeks at most. She's been on the scent of possible Yiga activity - though she was just wandering aimlessly and hoping to strike gold.

She tried her best to get the voice from before out of her head, but it consistently called for her anytime she let herself being enveloped by a silent moment. It wasn't loud, but she hated how nagging it has gotten. She craved adventure and wished to listen to the voice, fulfill the destiny that was instilled on her but.

But.

Deti. Her partner was still missing - alive hopefully - and what kind of person would she be if she didn't try to figure out what happened and chased an unknown fate. Later on in the night, she'd get on her knees and silently pray to Hylia that he's safe and would be found soon.

Her 'trail' led her to the Wetland Stable. She was familiar with the owner, Lawdon. He used to live in Lurelin when she was young, leaving to take over the stable after the old owner passed tragically.

"Ah, Bemere, it's been awhile!" Lawdon beams at her as she trudges up to the entrance. The front of her boots have managed to scrunch her toes that it hurt to even take a light step. Relief filled her knowing that soon she will be able to take them off and relax.

"I was here just last quarter moon, it hasn't been that long." Maybe two weeks or so, but she wasn't a astrology or days of the week kind of person. Lawdon lets out a hum as he moves to face her from the indoor window. In truth, it's been more than a month.

"Staying the night, I presume? Too late to go anywhere safe."

"Tell me about it, I can hear the Hinox's snoring from here. No way I'm chancing that." She takes out a few rupees but Lawdon shakes his head. She should've known he wouldn't let her pay, he never did.

"That bed right there," he points to the most left one, "is available for the night. Izra just put a pot of stew on the fire, so make sure to eat all you can." She bows slightly before hiking her pack onto her shoulder and heading to the bed.

Staying at stables always filled her with a sense of peace. She loved the small community each one has developed, even better when she recognizes other travelers. Beedle was in the back of the stable mumbling to himself as he looks at a small cage filled with two beetles. She rarely talked to the other merchant, but she liked him well enough to send a nod his head way whenever they make eye contact. Pikango often stayed outside painting whatever new masterpiece he was obsessed with. She's boughten a painting or two from him and sent them as a gift to her family back in Lurelin.

After setting her pack down for the night and changing into her sleep shoes, she heads outside to eat dinner. Izra was around her age and worked at the stable. He often dealt with the horses, but sometimes he made a stew that made Bemere curl her toes in delight. He sends her a charming smile as she heads his way, immediately filling a bowl with the strew and wordlessly handing it to her.

They made small talk as she ate, surprised to learn that he just recently got engaged to a girl from Hateno. He plans to leave the stable at the end of the season and move there to be with her. She hopes they remain happy and safe for the rest of their life together.

Night approaches swiftly and she heads off to bed, ready to face the nightmares that often plague her sleep now. It's always the same:

Deti stands with his back to her, he's mumbling something but it's too low for her to catch. Next thing she knows, a figure approaches Deti from his left, quickly attacking and bringing the Goron to his knees. While he knows how to fight, Deti is a passive individual. He truly believes that words can fix any situation and she admires him for that trait.

Dream Deti is then tied up and taken out of her view. He's calling for her, though his voice isn't his own. It's mixed with something else, deeper and darker. Just a repeat of Bemere, Bemere, Bemer-

"BEMERE!" She awakes with a start, Lawdon standing above her with a creased eyebrow. "You were thrashing in your sleep, my dear." She lets out something incoherent as she gathers her bearings, Lawdon senses she needs her time and goes back to his station. The early morning light filters onto the floorboards by her, alerting her that a new day has begun.

Once again, she bears the weight of her missing friend and gets ready to continue her search.
code by @Nano
 
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Atara gave a lighthearted smile, “what exactly do you think you want to know? I’m not the most interesting person, all things considered.” She released her grip around her legs to place her arms behind herself. White hair fluttering in the gentle breeze as the sun finally peeked from beneath the horizon. She had no doubt today's sunrise would be beautiful.

At Aishas statement she let out a wistful hum, “me too.” She hadn’t been allowed the freedom of spending time with others, and the kids in Kakariko had never really been fond of her. As a kid and even adult, besides Impa, she hadn’t had anyone to talk to. Being with a group, while stressful and sometimes exhausting, was refreshing all the same.

“Being out in the wilderness, having to hunt, things like that.. I was always sort of..” caged, trapped, hidden from the world; “sheltered.” She internally cringed at her own wording, which was far too soft for the truth. Still, it sounded better than the full story.
 
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“It’s not something I’d really recommend. Being out alone all the time.” Aisha let the words out before catching herself. “It’s lonely. Quiet. Good for a while, but…well I haven’t heard of any species that isn’t at least a little bit social. Being trapped in your own head is how you end up like me, hiding in shadows and corners.” Well didn’t that sound pathetic. Retrospectively she wanted the words back, but even the Twili didn’t have magic to rewind the concept of time itself, and as far as Aisha knew that was entirely impossible.

The rest of Atara’s words struck a bit of a chord. Sheltered. It didn’t sound like the right word at all, and Atara’s previous assertion to just ask questions bubbled up. It would, Aisha realized, allow her to answer the burning question running around her head, but also probably would blow up in her face. Maybe better to dance around until they got to the point she really wanted to touch upon.

“Sheltered.” Aisha tested the word, confirming that it sounded wrong when she verablized it. “Why? You seem quite capable of taking care of yourself.” Of the group, at a glance Aisha probably would trust Atara in a fight, based on the very nebulous ‘feeling that she would handle herself’. A feeling that rarely led Aisha wrong, and she continued to trust it. She paused. "Although if you grew up in Kakariko I suppose I can understand how that might happen."
 
Keenan

Keenan could see Atara roll her eyes even after the fire had been extinguished, clearly unamused by his teasing. How boring. She gave an unladylike snort, nose wrinkling slightly as she threw his words right back at him and then some. Now relaxed, her emerald eyes studied him, the moonlight slipping through the trees giving them an apparent feline like quality. It was as if he was simply a puzzle she was trying to figure out. For some reason he suddenly felt rather uncomfortable.

A few moments passed before an affirmative hum left the Shiekah’s throat. “If you had wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have helped me back on Sahasra Slope.” A pause. “And I doubt you’d poison me now.”

Keenan had to give credit where credit was due, the girl certainly wasn’t stupid. It was true that if he had let that monster kill her or if he had poisoned her it would have been against his best interests, yet he still felt as if Atara wasn’t getting the bigger picture. He tsked and shook his head. “Good point. But you should never let your guard down, especially around people you barely know. This world is dangerous and you never know when someone could decide they no longer want you around.” Or worse, you could become collateral damage in another person’s attempt for survival. A bitter taste now rested on the Yiga’s tongue, and with it an increased annoyance at where his thoughts were trying to take him.

He cleared his throat, somehow managing to keep the small smile present on his face. “Considering we’re both members of a merry band of heroes though we should be safe, more or less.” He added.

It wasn’t long before the light of the campfire pierced the darkness, peaking through the treeline in a welcoming glow.

They had made their way into the clearing when Atara spoke up again, the tone of her voice now carrying a teasing edge. “If you keep giving me “advice,” by the way, I may start to think you actually care.”

Keenan rolled his eyes. This woman was unbelievable. “Riiiiight. Considering the fact we’re allies now and if anything happened to you Impa would surely skewer me alive, I’m merely looking out for you so you don’t accidently meet an early expiration date.” Ganon help him, it was only because she was somewhat cute he wasn’t going to tie her to a horse and send her back to her village.

Whether she simply didn’t hear him or didn’t care in the slightest the girl continued, “Maybe you should help Grima, it sounds well suited for you.” Oh she was definitely smiling now. She turned, giving him a small wave and adding, “And try not to be too grumpy, this time.” With that the Sheikah made herself scare, likely on the prowl to annoy Aisha next.

Keenan sighed, muttering in a low voice, “I can see she and I are going to get along just swimmingly, assuming I don’t lose my sanity first.” Perhaps it was just him having traveled solo for so long but his tolerance for social interaction had become as low as a Yiga’s mood when they realized they didn’t have any bananas left during banana hour.

At any rate he realized that he would need to learn more about his other companions sooner or later. Sleep was definitely not on the table. With some reluctance he headed in Grima’s direction, giving the other man a small nod and even a smile. “It seems you might have your hands rather full.” He greeted after B had finished speaking. He hoped the spirit wouldn’t start going off again. He leaned against a nearby tree. “Sorry for the interruption, just thought I’d come home and say a quick hello to you all. I’ll try not to bother you all for too long.” Searching the small group’s faces, his gaze landed on Saran. “You’re looking a little better, kid. You were pale as a sheet not too long ago.” The ex-Yiga already felt a small headache starting to form but it was manageable. He was more relieved to see the boy up and about if anything.

endersheart endersheart Takumi98 Takumi98 Hopos Hopos Karcen Karcen
 
Trill was sore when he woke. Rito were known to be early risers, but as the sky was gaining more and more soft light, he contemplated catching more sleep. Surely he wasn't far from the gang. He'd definitely pushed himself, quite possibly too hard, and it would be a bad impression to show up already dead on his feet.

There was always the option of downing an elixir to put some extra zing in his wings or pep in his step, but he really ought to be saving his supplies for emergencies now. Somebody might need it down the road more than he needs it now.

Ultimately, his anxiety with the whole situation won out. He couldn't fall back asleep.

He could at least take his time getting himself ready for the day.

He rolled gracelessly out of his hammock, managing to meet the ground with his feet rather than his face, and untethered it from the trees before rolling it up and strapping it to his pack. A quick bite to eat and he could be off, but he decided to have himself a more leisurely morning. He could have himself a real breakfast.

Rubbing his eyes, he made his way down the slight slope to the river. With any luck, there would be staminoka bass. He wouldn't complain if he caught any fish at all, though.

The sound of the river had been relaxing to fall asleep to, not that he'd needed the help to nod off, but even now, standing on the bank, it was tranquil. He closed his eyes and welcomed in a deep breath of the cool air before leaning back, stretching his spine and his wings.

He left his pack and his bow on a boulder poking out of the middle of the river. He was fairly good with his bow, even with the visual displacement the water caused he could probably hit a fish, but some nice cold water would do him some good.

By the time the sun was properly rising, he was seated at the stable's cooking pot, Hyrule bass and chopped stamella mushrooms and Hyrule herb simmering away. He felt no guilt using the extra ingredients seeing as he'd found them growing around the trees as he made his way back, half dripping wet.

While the cooking pot was available to any and all for free, it was still common courtesy to at least buy or pay for something from the stable before using it. So he bought some rock salt to add to his breakfast. He broke off a small piece and crushed it with his mortar and pestle.

He didn't even notice that he was humming as he cooked, only becoming self conscious of it and stopping when one of the stable's patrons, a Hylian woman, stepped out of the tent.

"Morning!" he called with a cheery wave of his wing. He still felt exhausted and achy and even anxious, but it didn't stop him from being friendly. Besides, he had a great breakfast coming. That was plenty to be happy about.

frecckkles frecckkles
 
"I was alone for a long time while residing in Kakariko," Atara murmured in response, "I think it was better that way." She didn’t care to elaborate. Being by herself, while creating a longing to be accepted and involved, also kept her stable at times. The peace and quiet were the only escape in her often troubled childhood. "I don’t think you hide in the shadows, I think you get overwhelmed and need space, and that’s okay."

"Sheltered,"
she repeated the word herself, like repetition would make it correct. "I shouldn’t say sheltered, that makes it sound like I was being protected- I wasn’t." She felt a hint of rage; as a child she should have been, but now she could keep herself safe. “I was kept under lock and key, by a father who was scared the world would reject him too.” His world was Kakariko, but hers was much bigger than that now.

The subject on where she grew up was the easiest. “I was raised in Kakariko, yes, my father’s a Sheikah, so it only seems fitting.” Atara didn’t know if it was safe to talk about her mother, even with Nessas reaction. She couldn’t pinpoint if the child thought it was interesting because she was young, a Gerudo, or if the subject actually wasn’t a bad thing. It had felt like an impurity for so long.

“What about you, Aisha?”
 
Aisha elected not to contest the point about hiding in shadows, as without casting aside her magic, Atara couldn’t be expected to understand quite how wrong she was, or just how much of a mess Aisha felt this conversation was. Of course, Atara did have a point, she did get overwhelmed by people, mostly because after a while she didn’t trust someone to not try and shank her.

The rest of Atara’s words struck even more of a chord, even if she couldn’t quite safely talk about her home. “Growing up was.” Despite best efforts, Aisha couldn’t keep herself from sounding bitter. Some part of her missed the Twilight Realm, but some other part remained deeply upset at what happened, no matter how stupid she'd been. “I had a family. Friends.” And then she messed that up. They messed that up. “It made for a home.” Holding up a hand, Aisha examined her own disguise carefully, humming as she did so. There was no way to avoid stating the basic facts. “Until it wasn’t.” Letting her hand fall to the dirt, Aisha released a huff. “I’ve been like this ever since. Not quite what I planned for myself.”

A Sheikah. “I’m not the most knowledgeable on the subject, but surely as a Shiekah there is no need to fear being rejected.” The gears turned in Aisha’s mind, her focus shifting from panic to the mystery now presented. While the people were obviously deeply suspicious of things they didn’t know or understand, Sheikah strictly fell into the bucket of ‘knew and understood’. “Kakariko isn’t usually hostile to things they understand.” The last words were mumbled, another thought that slipped out in between other thoughts, not considered or intended, as the more important part filtered through. Her Father was a Sheikah. Not Atara herself.

That did explain some of the things that Aisha couldn't quite pin down, and gave an acceptable lead in to the pointed question. "You say your Father is a Sheikah as if that doesn't apply to you?"
 
🗡 Bemere
『 TAGGED 』 CyberJackal CyberJackal

The Rito surprised her, she turned her body and began to approach him. Normally she didn't go out of her way to greet someone in the morning. She usually would keep walking and nod in their direction, but something about this Rito drew her to him. She couldn't explain the little tingling in the back of her skull that buzzed a little harder with every step she took. She smiled softly when she stops just a few feet from him, praying to Hylia that her face didn't look too tired or bemused as to why she's doing this.

"Morning, stranger, smells wonderful over here." And it did. She couldn't exactly discern what he was making, but it rivaled the stew from last night ten fold. Her stomach growled in agreement. Another silent - but a bit more urgent - prayer was sent towards Hylia's way. Please, he didn't hear that. This is what happens when you deviate from the norm, she scolds herself in her head.

Instead of standing awkwardly, she moves to sit down on one of the logs nearby. She stretches her feet in front of her, ankles popping silently. Out of the corner of her eye she notes the people around them. She didn't recognize any of the stable hands nor the few patrons milling about. Beedle's nest was empty when she woke and Pikango sleeps until the sun is high in the sky.

"Whatcha cooking?" She asks, hoping to melt the awkwardness that was sitting on her shoulders. It felt like Deti made her into his own private seat, though he would crush her like a bug if he actually did that. Her stomach made another protest, though more silent this time. She promised that she would eat after she was done speaking with the Rito.
code by @Nano
 
Atara had an inkling Aisha could use a hug, but she’d never been good at showing affection. She got it honest, considering who her parents were. Instead, she reached a hand out and settled on giving the girl a gentle shoulder squeeze. “It sounds like it was lovely,” she replied, “and I’m sorry that you lost it.” It must have been hard- growing up with friends and family that loved her, only for it to all go away one day. However, deep down, Atara wished she could have felt a smidge of that same fondness.

“No,” there was a calmness to her tone, opposing the anxiety she felt on the inside, “but, I guess they didn’t quite understand me.” Besides Impa, no one tried to understand her. She had been an outsider since the day she was born in Kakariko village. Bringing a hand up, she waved it over her eyes. “I’m half Sheikah,” she answered, “my mother was Gerudo.”

She offered the Twili, unbeknownst to her, a soft smile. “That’s my secret.” It wasn’t as big as some, yet, it was daunting to her all the same. The fear of rejection was as real as it had been since she first learned she was different. Still, the little girl stuck inside that small room would be proud, happy, even. “Honestly.. I thought it would be obvious, since I don’t have their eyes.”
 
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Gerudo. That took a while for Aisha to parse, before the memory of the other race that didn’t have a good reputation due to actions from a long time before made its way to the fore of her mind. A visible grimace grossed her face at the realization of what that meant for Atara sank in. “I did wonder, but in my experience asking what race someone is gets you in all kinds of trouble. Sometimes the stabbing kind.” Aisha tried for a supportive smile that likely looked as uncomfortable as it felt. “It doesn’t bother me, what you are doesn’t have much bearing on who you are.” Pretty words, stolen from one of her teachers from years and years ago.

This did mean the point of no return in some sense. The desperate, lonely part of Aisha, that always wanted someone to talk to honestly, demanded that she at least give Atara some hint as to her true nature. Keenan, that same part pointed out, didn't qualify, he had a pile of secrets that spoke to the part of her knowing terrible things that tended to preclude total honest. The other part, hardened and honed by over a decade of her general existence rebelled against the idea, swallowing the words before they formed. “Just, existing, and being rejected for it.”

Aisha closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, doing her best to not start shaking. “It’s not just that I lost my home. I…cannot go back. There is no magic I know of capable of it.” If Atara still had a hand on her shoulder, she would be quite aware of the fact that Aisha entirely lost her battle with shaking in panic. “I’m…” She took a breath. The words would not come. Unfortunately for the panicked-Aisha, the rest of her had years of learning how to trick herself into doing things, and that left an ‘easy’ way to go about it. “What do you know about the Twili?”
 
"Oh, just some bass," Trill replied in answer of his improvised recipe. "The mushrooms and herbs really spruce it up, though." Bass could have a very bland flavor. "And Stamella mushrooms in particular are great for sore muscles. What with the recent happenings I had to hurry home to check on things and I may have pushed these old wings too hard! Nonetheless, now I'm back on my usual route!" Trill was the friendly type; being a doctor required it, but he knew better than to overshare. Nobody had to know about just how valuable the contents of his now very heavy pack could be or why exactly he'd made such a trek there and back so urgently.

"I'm a traveling doctor by trade, you see, so I couldn't stay home for long. My work is too important. What about you, miss?" He noted her own large pack. "Are you a merchant?"

frecckkles frecckkles
 
The stabbing kind, while the words struck a chord, an incident from her not so pleasant childhood, it also made her wonder about the type of people Aisha knew. “You think so?” She hummed at the girl's next words, beautifully spoken. If only everyone thought in such a light. She offered Aisha her own smile, something along the lines of genuine.

There was a long pause in their conversation, fitting, Atara thought, for two introverts. Finally, Aisha broke the silence. Where Ataras hand was still comfortingly holding onto her shoulder, she started to feel the redheads' nerves surface. A light jitter. For someone like her, the implication of Aisha's question was immediate. A twili, but that wouldn’t make sense, not here.

Her brows furrowed, the slightest sign of concentration, “Midna, the twilight princess, a story lost to time- really.” Had she not often read books, she might not even know. “She once saved Hyrule, long ago, with a hero similar to the one we know today.” The twili, like the Gerudo, had a long standing bad reputation. “However, that’s not how the story started.. it was eons ago, a tribe of Hylian sorcerers, banned by the Golden Goddesses to the Twilight Realm; a punishment.”

She allowed her hand to fall off the girls shoulder, “but, Aisha, the mirror of twilight was broken, shattered, by princess Midna herself.” A glance in the others direction, “so how did you get here?”
 
Adagio's face brightened at B-206's response. It truly was good to see her opening up, and her having any preference for appearances had to be a good thing. She truly was an interesting individual and it was nice to think he might be helping her break out of her shell. With her demeanor softening he felt no need to make any further pushes towards her normally cold attitude.

"Yes I've historically never been great at waiting but I'll put forth a real effort. I'll have you know I have however been considered rather fashionable, of course I'll make a suitable charm for you, something that suits you."

He already had a design in mind and something that hung off of a pommel would be a perfect counterpart to adapt it to her form. He was mostly in the design phase for now anyways so he was happy to take whatever recommendations she had. But more importantly she'd actually thanked him and that had to be given attention.

"You're very welcome B, I'm glad to help where I can. And thank you as well, I appreciate your opening up to me I know it can't have been easy."

He smiled as genuinely as he could towards the sword spirit, it was a strange but welcome change to see her thanking instead of berating. He'd do what he could to keep her in a similar mood, and it would certainly help his work as well.

"I'm always happy to listen to the stories of others, and I'm not too bad at telling stories either. Though I'm sure you wouldn't be interested in that."
 

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