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[He stares up in shock at Hyrule Castle from the drawbridge outside of Castle Town. Link does not notice right away that the season has changed from autumn to spring, or that the topography of the mountains have shifted, or that Midna has left him. For this moment, his thoughts are with Princess Zelda and the captives of Castle Town.]
Wait! Has the curse of Twilight been lifted already!?
(ooc: Hello...o...o...o..*voice echoes in the emptiness of the comm* I know somebody is still watching this place. Come on, guys. Please help me practice. T:)
[And this is when a possibly familiar heroine comes crawling out of Lake Hylia, dripping wet and not very happy looking.]
I thought I'd never come out of there...
[She had wandered down into the Water Temple, just to reminisce, but ended up stuck in that place for Goddess's knows when.]
6:00am Waking with the dawn is a farmer's instinct, and the one part of home he’ll never leave behind.
6:04am He mutters an Old Hylianish saying that both he and time forgot. The individual words no longer hold congruence with anything in modern language, but it's the underlying sentiment that matters. Dedication and goodness are, and will always be, timeless truths.
6:30am Hyrule is constantly changing, and he can see it in the faces of owls that flee the crunching leaves beneath his boots, and in the overgrown vines spread out in hypnotic curls around the highest branches of the taller trees.
6:35am There’s change reflected in the river water he splashes onto his face, too, but it’s too gradual to notice. His face is slimmer and his eyes sharper––sharper, but not hardened.
Two years have passed.
[Basking in the sunlight atop a grassy knoll, he admires the interconnectedness between, and unseen strength imbued with, all things natural.]
Din, nobody's up. [Sigh] I should have just gone back to sleep.
[...Or not. After letting out a monstrous yawn, he spends a minute or two attempting bird calls.
Bizarrely, frighteningly accurate bird calls; The kind that make you wonder just how much time the person's spent sitting somewhere, diligently attending to the practice.]
[Two years. Everything and nothing has changed.]
Its a really cold day at the village of the shadow people, is it not? Its almost guaranteed to be so; the cold wind blowing down from Death Mountain. Add a little bit of water and you will be sure to get plenty of ice and snow.
So, naturally, when you slip on some ice and trip over a half-buried mask, that's nothing too surprising, is it?
Then again, maybe it is
Perhaps it would be in your best interests to investigate. [[ooc: As before, please note this page and the link(s) especially the one to the permission post.]]
[It begins in the morning, a covered gray sky sending fat flakes of white drifting down to Hyrule. The first to hit the ground melt on impact, but as the temperature rapidly drops they gather and hold fast. A frosting becomes a cover, a cover becomes a thick blanket, and still it falls.]
[By the time the heavy snow lifts in the afternoon, the field has been buried in a full foot of wet white, guaranteed to soak into all but the most resistant boots, make any sock squelch, and pack a snowball with one scoop. Fickle fall weather may mean it's gone tomorrow, but it will hold as long as it can.]
(ooc: Mingling post! Shall we play/sulk in the snow?)
[It had been cold in World's End before he left, but not quite so cold as to warrant the frost that crunched under his boots. The graveyard he had been walking to had been the graveyard of that lost little city - a place haunted by refugee ghosts dragged from their home haunts and forced to languish in the wake of the Dark Tower. This graveyard had that old feeling of waiting - a feeling Link always attributed to the ossuary under his feet.
It did not entirely surprise the hero that one moment the surroundings were one thing, and the next they were the still, calm quiet of Kakariko Village. But, then again, they had just visited Clocktown not long before, and what a World Hop that had been.
It wasn't until he couldn't find his communicator that it began to sink in that this was not World's End under whatever enchantment that the gods wove to initiate the World Hops. This was Hyrule.
... Or, at least, it smelled of Hyrule - a crisp winter scent of home and hearth - in a way that Clock Town had not smelled of Termina (a sharp bitter pang that vanished in a flash, but that an undertone of stretched and lingered on the edge of the senses).
Was he home? Or was he in another place?
Either way, he was not going to learn standing in one place. He stamped his feet once, for heat, before turning his back on the graveyard. There was no point in visiting the Shadow Temple now; is head was clear like it had not been for a very long time.
Under cloud and under star, he took the path back down into the village, the frost crunching under his boots.
[Have Link, who is coming from the game a_trialbyfire. I dropped a while back, but the game I'm hoping to play at with this journal isn't opening for a while, so I thought it would be fun to try him out here ♥
[One of the Heroes is aimlessly wandering Castle Town under the cover of night. It's cold, and –directing a withering stare at an innocent lamppost– he mentally chastises himself for not choosing someplace warmer to sulk. He doesn't like the Autumns and Winters of this Hyrule; All the cold ever reminds him of are the early mornings spent draping blankets over sleeping goats while trading songs and what little gossip there was to be had in Ordon.]
[A pair of street cats skirt his shadow as he walks. He likes animals but isn't in any mood to entertain. Unconcerned, they follow soundlessly as he turns corners and confronts alleyways. He walks, walks– not truly thinking, but not completely numb, either.]
[Sometimes anger comes without provocation, and when it does you don't think about it–you walk it off. Too well he knows that if he doesn't he'll end up fighting with it. In his mind's eye he pictures everything blank that he can think of (untouched snow yellow parchment cloudless skies) and presses anger back to a place where it can't reach him.]
[Out of mind, out of mind.]
[As he reaches a pile of abandoned boxes, something small flees his boots and takes his companions with it. The moment he's alone his anger flees, too, leaving only the sting of the night air in his chest. He breathes in deeply and immediately recognizes the taste of snow. Yesterday, a day otherwise perfectly ordinary and uninteresting in its every respect, had been his nineteenth birthday.
Ignoring memories of home that flash one after another into brilliant relief, he pushes mindlessly on into the center of town. Everything he doesn't need he leaves behind in muddy boot prints.]
[This wasn't right.
As an Oracle, Din could do a great many things that most people could not. She could bend the seasons, bring life to those who had been lost, and use magic far more powerful than even one of the most accomplished sorcerers could imagine... but even she knew that Onox's crystal had been too strong to be smashed by her own mere brute force.
Stepping over the shattered pieces of crystal, the Oracle did not allow herself a sigh of relief. Instead, her hands twisted into fists at her sides. Where was this...? She knew Hyrule, however fleetingly, and would have assumed Hyrule Field... but this landscape was different. Colder, perhaps, but the skyline in the distance dotted with only a single, small town spoke of a younger world. This was not the season, or even the year, she had left in.]
Link... [Had things gone this badly awry in the short time it had been since her capture? It was possible - but this was something she expected of... well, a catastrophe involving Nayru. Not herself.
If what was said of the Princess was true... there was at least a shot. Bracelets jangling, the dancer started walking. Beneath her feet the grass seemed to flood into life, then fade to it's seasonal pallor as she stepped off and away towards the town.]