Yesterday we reached the end of another Finish What You Started. Rather than focus on what I cannot do (write), it's time to celebrate what it can: Finish a pair of socks, at last! Only blocking now remains.
(Forget second sock syndrome- I'd struggled to even bring myself to start the foot of the first.)
(image id: a pair of handknitted socks rest on a hedge. the toes, heels and cuffs are knit in a pale speckled green, and the leg/foot are knitted in a green and pink needle-stripe; chain-stitch vines and little crochet flowers climb up from the ankle to decorate the leg)
As a society, we need to go back to understanding that strangers on the internet are, you know, strangers. I feel lately that I'm seeing a rise in 'An author I love blocked me because they took my comment the wrong way' posts on the ao3 subreddit, and then the comment is them calling the author a fucking bitch or something like that.
Don't do this. Tone doesn't translate well in text, and if you don't have a rapport with that author, they are not going to interpret, 'You're a fucking bitch' as, 'Author I hate you for being so talented and making me feel so keenly.' They're going to interpret it as you being an asshole. You can shit talk with your friends because you have an established relationship with them and can distinguish between playful banter and genuine anger. You do not have this with a stranger, no matter how much you like their fics. You will have a much more pleasant time in fandom and not get cockblocked from interacting with your favorite writers if you remember this.
Written in ~40min for a combination of @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt #FFF355 - A Curious Connection and Revalink Week Day 6: Rupees.
-
Back when @heleentje and I were working on Moonlight, we (& @coconi) had a running joke about Robbie (somehow) spotting Revali's 'ghost' during the Loop 5 Roadtrip, and trying to get him to pay back an old debt.
On the maths: if two apples used to cost 1 green rupee, as Revali claims, and now you're looking at one apple costing 12 green rupees... Hyrule has an inflation problem.
-
"Tell me," says Revali, "how much an apple costs these days."
Link looks up from the Sheikah Slate. "Buying or selling?" he asks. It's a pretty important distinction. "Depends on the season. I can sell them for three rupees when they're in season. Five rupees in winter." By early summer, when the stocks from last year's harvest have run empty, somebody might even pay seven. "I usually cook them first. Then people pay better."
Though not everyone's as deep-pocketed as that honeymoon couple that were staying in Rito Village before.
"And if you happened to run out of apples"—Revali throws a dubious look at the Sheikah Slate, as if realising how unlikely that situation is to come to pass—"or lost that thing, I suppose... How much would somebody charge you to buy an apple from them?"
Link has to think about that a little harder. "Twelve," he says after a moment
"Twelve?!" Revali all but yelps; then, when Link glances at him, he coughs to cover the crack in his voice. "That is simply extortionate. 'Two reds for a green' - that's what they used to sell them for in Castle Town Market..."
Link must be misunderstanding him somehow. "Forty rupees for a green apple?"
"Two red apples," Revali snipes back, "for one green rupee."
That still doesn't sound right to Link, but he doesn't remember the minutiae of the market place from a hundred years ago, so he'll have to defer to Revali's memory.
"It's daylight robbery," Revali continues to grouse, frowning at the slip of paper he'd had Link pin against Vah Medoh's foot with a rock. The winds up here are so strong, Link's surprised it hasn't yet been snatched away. He had tried reading it himself, but the penmanship is too small for him to make out. "And so is this. Tell that ancient buffoon that I don't care what mathematical contortions he's put these numbers through. He won't get anything out of me."
--
"He's still on this plane of existence, isn't he?" Robbie retorts, when Link relays Revali's answer back to him. "Then he's extant enough to pay off his debts. Research doesn't happen in a vacuum, and progress isn't cheap!"
--
"You only have his word to go on that I owe him anything at all!"
--
"He's had the summary. I've got the receipts to prove it. Plus a century's interest on top-"
--
"Interest? What is he on about, interest?"
Link doesn't know either. "Purah said it's something banks charge."
"Since when is Robbie a bank--"
--
"Well I can't go charging his debts back to the treasury!" Robbie eyes Link speculatively. "Unless you're willing to settle it for him..."
--
"And end up owing you? No. I refuse."
--
[six time loops later --
Robbie: so, you were alive after all! pay up. | Revali: I was kept alive against my knowledge. Take it up with Medoh. | Link, thinking: can Divine Beasts pay in rupees when I already looted them of all their contents?]
I'm instituting a new policy of "if I can't easily read your crusty scanned PDF then I'm sending it back to you, telling you to get your shit together and save your .docx as .pdf, and causing snakes to manifest inside your house"
this but also if you are in accounting and you have an Excel file please do not save it as a PDF or take a screenshot of it and then paste it into another Excel file
Good afternoon to everyone in the notes having a horrible time! Y'all are fighting demons I never knew existed!! I think every person that makes you do stupid time wasting shit like this because they refuse to learn basic computer literacy should be fired!!
This is going to make me SO unpopular with my cats.
This did in fact get me in trouble with my cats. dinner was delayed. there was much screaming until I took a break and rectified my mistake.
but i have gnawed upon this as threatened; thank you for letting me play with it, @ghirahimbo!
The world lurches and sways.
For Revali, who has been drowning for so long he lost count of the days decades ago, this is nothing unusual. He can no longer remember the tug of the wind against his feathers; his lungs gave up fighting for breath an eternity ago. When the sword pierced him through, it was almost welcome.
An answer long overdue. Since Ganon's foul creature had seen fit to augment its strength with his own, at the very least he could claim it as a wish fulfilled.
...No. That was a thought born of desperation, when the drag of eternity wore his resolve thin and he could only scream for a release that never came. Now the howling of Ganon's monster falls silent around him and his lungs heave for a breath they haven't taken in too long, and he can only wonder—is this how Mipha felt before Vah Ruta fell silent, severed from the choking Malice? had she been left to fight the agonising moments of her death again, cut off from the connection that's been their torture and their single-thread lifeline for all these long years? The thought fills him with a fury... which passes like a squall, dead before it can raise much more than an agitated murmur.
If this is dying, he thinks, riding the squall's fading draughts to a moment of lucidity, surely it can hurry up a bit.
A patch of the world ls lit up gold. "I know," says an unfamiliar voice. "I can't—"
Then jostling motion, and a weightlessness that's nothing like the phantom memories of his Gale. He struggles against his heavy eyelids and gradually becomes aware of the mossy stone of Vah Medoh's back, swaying disconcertingly some distance away. The steadying whirr of its motors fills his auricles; it sends his balance reeling.
A gloved hand lands on Medoh's command panel. "Take us down," the voice says, and—
It's been too long since Medoh's low song hummed through him with such clarity of voice, their hard-won harmony poisoned by the Blight and cursing him with such discordance that at times he'd wished for everything to cease. Now that song hums through him again as if in answer to another master. Again the fury finds him; again he fights against the downwards drag of his overdue demise to raise hell one last time.
"Don't."
The order catches on the barb of his tongue and bursts, metallic and sour. He cannot breathe. In and out. In and out. His vision blurs; distantly, amidst the poisonous shades of the dying Blight, light catches on the edge of a metal breastplate he once knew intimately. Ah. So that's how it is. Distantly, he can only think that this is how it was always destined to be.
...Destiny? Such a detestable thing deserves only to be plucked of all meaning by whatever means necessary.
"Do not," he tries again. Another acrid bubble of iron bursts in his throat, but he cannot allow Medoh to be subverted from his will again. For too long has he heard it screaming. With every scrap of willpower he can muster, he fights to maintain his tenous grasp on the Divine Beast which had already been stolen from him once. Never again.
Caught between conflicting orders, Medoh groans. The world lurches again. He tips abruptly forward, a motion caught only by that gloved hand gripping at the terminal again. Blue. His vision is filled with blue as familiar as the scarf he'd once been so proud of, a blue simultanously static and set in fluttering motion. His left wing is caught in a vise-grip; a hand clamps around his thigh, just as tight. He struggles for breath; it comes only in a ragged heave which threatens to drag him back into the realm of the Malice's grip.
But as the voice re-issues its command—"Take us down!"—and Medoh pitches into an obedient descent, it occurs to him firstly that he is, by some inexplicable stroke of the goddess' vindictive mercy, not dead (—yet, his thoughts supply); and secondly, that he knows the swathe of blue filling his vision, which belongs to none other than...
Well.
"Pluck me for a fool," he chokes out. He hadn't entirely believed Link could actually beat it. "You really did."
Or perhaps this is a dying fever-dream.
The knight adjusts his grip again, jostling Revali into a brief, pained silence. "Stay alive," he orders curtly. "Won't forgive you otherwise."
And despite his weakness, despite the gravity of the situation, laughter attempts to claw its way up Revali's throat.
"Isn't it enough?" He can't bring himself to add the rest of that sentiment—You won. The thought shouldn't bring him such relief, but it does. One way or another, he'd wanted it to end. Had even directed that wooden-headed knight to put an end to him. Who would have thought there was a disobedient streak hidden behind that dour, emotionless mask?
Who would have thought...
Link's eyes are fixed firmly ahead. He must be following the trajectory of Medoh's descent. The village is still a long way away. A short distance, if one gives themselves over to freefall. An eternity ago, he might have suggested such to Link, if only to try to goad him into reacting. Now, he can't bring himself to. The motivation is no longer there. Even so, it should annoy him that Medoh responded to another's command so readily. Especially Link's. It's a surprise that it doesn't. Annoy him. But anything is better than seeing Medoh under the Calamity's thrall. Anything better than being held against their will. It's enough. It'll be enough.
"Wasn't a real fight."
Revali forces an eye open and finds a stubborn, mulish set to Link's jaw. "No?"
"Two against one. Doesn't count. You still owe me."
...If that's Link's idea of persuading someone to cling to life, it could do with some work. It probably says something about Revali that it's working.
This is going to make me SO unpopular with my cats.
This did in fact get me in trouble with my cats. dinner was delayed. there was much screaming until I took a break and rectified my mistake.
but i have gnawed upon this as threatened; thank you for letting me play with it, @ghirahimbo!
The world lurches and sways.
For Revali, who has been drowning for so long he lost count of the days decades ago, this is nothing unusual. He can no longer remember the tug of the wind against his feathers; his lungs gave up fighting for breath an eternity ago. When the sword pierced him through, it was almost welcome.
An answer long overdue. Since Ganon's foul creature had seen fit to augment its strength with his own, at the very least he could claim it as a wish fulfilled.
...No. That was a thought born of desperation, when the drag of eternity wore his resolve thin and he could only scream for a release that never came. Now the howling of Ganon's monster falls silent around him and his lungs heave for a breath they haven't taken in too long, and he can only wonder—is this how Mipha felt before Vah Ruta fell silent, severed from the choking Malice? had she been left to fight the agonising moments of her death again, cut off from the connection that's been their torture and their single-thread lifeline for all these long years? The thought fills him with a fury... which passes like a squall, dead before it can raise much more than an agitated murmur.
If this is dying, he thinks, riding the squall's fading draughts to a moment of lucidity, surely it can hurry up a bit.
A patch of the world ls lit up gold. "I know," says an unfamiliar voice. "I can't—"
Then jostling motion, and a weightlessness that's nothing like the phantom memories of his Gale. He struggles against his heavy eyelids and gradually becomes aware of the mossy stone of Vah Medoh's back, swaying disconcertingly some distance away. The steadying whirr of its motors fills his auricles; it sends his balance reeling.
A gloved hand lands on Medoh's command panel. "Take us down," the voice says, and—
It's been too long since Medoh's low song hummed through him with such clarity of voice, their hard-won harmony poisoned by the Blight and cursing him with such discordance that at times he'd wished for everything to cease. Now that song hums through him again as if in answer to another master. Again the fury finds him; again he fights against the downwards drag of his overdue demise to raise hell one last time.
"Don't."
The order catches on the barb of his tongue and bursts, metallic and sour. He cannot breathe. In and out. In and out. His vision blurs; distantly, amidst the poisonous shades of the dying Blight, light catches on the edge of a metal breastplate he once knew intimately. Ah. So that's how it is. Distantly, he can only think that this is how it was always destined to be.
...Destiny? Such a detestable thing deserves only to be plucked of all meaning by whatever means necessary.
"Do not," he tries again. Another acrid bubble of iron bursts in his throat, but he cannot allow Medoh to be subverted from his will again. For too long has he heard it screaming. With every scrap of willpower he can muster, he fights to maintain his tenous grasp on the Divine Beast which had already been stolen from him once. Never again.
Caught between conflicting orders, Medoh groans. The world lurches again. He tips abruptly forward, a motion caught only by that gloved hand gripping at the terminal again. Blue. His vision is filled with blue as familiar as the scarf he'd once been so proud of, a blue simultanously static and set in fluttering motion. His left wing is caught in a vise-grip; a hand clamps around his thigh, just as tight. He struggles for breath; it comes only in a ragged heave which threatens to drag him back into the realm of the Malice's grip.
But as the voice re-issues its command—"Take us down!"—and Medoh pitches into an obedient descent, it occurs to him firstly that he is, by some inexplicable stroke of the goddess' vindictive mercy, not dead (—yet, his thoughts supply); and secondly, that he knows the swathe of blue filling his vision, which belongs to none other than...
Well.
"Pluck me for a fool," he chokes out. He hadn't entirely believed Link could actually beat it. "You really did."
Or perhaps this is a dying fever-dream.
The knight adjusts his grip again, jostling Revali into a brief, pained silence. "Stay alive," he orders curtly. "Won't forgive you otherwise."
And despite his weakness, despite the gravity of the situation, laughter attempts to claw its way up Revali's throat.
"Isn't it enough?" He can't bring himself to add the rest of that sentiment—You won. The thought shouldn't bring him such relief, but it does. One way or another, he'd wanted it to end. Had even directed that wooden-headed knight to put an end to him. Who would have thought there was a disobedient streak hidden behind that dour, emotionless mask?
Who would have thought...
Link's eyes are fixed firmly ahead. He must be following the trajectory of Medoh's descent. The village is still a long way away. A short distance, if one gives themselves over to freefall. An eternity ago, he might have suggested such to Link, if only to try to goad him into reacting. Now, he can't bring himself to. The motivation is no longer there. Even so, it should annoy him that Medoh responded to another's command so readily. Especially Link's. It's a surprise that it doesn't. Annoy him. But anything is better than seeing Medoh under the Calamity's thrall. Anything better than being held against their will. It's enough. It'll be enough.
"Wasn't a real fight."
Revali forces an eye open and finds a stubborn, mulish set to Link's jaw. "No?"
"Two against one. Doesn't count. You still owe me."
...If that's Link's idea of persuading someone to cling to life, it could do with some work. It probably says something about Revali that it's working.
Work Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82393726
Title: Golden Hour
Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Characters: Agitha, The Postman, Link, Midna (cameo)
Rating: G
Summary: While the rest of Castle Town prepares for Princess Zelda's coronation, the Bug Princess, Agitha, plans a party of her own.
This is the story I wrote for @neardawnzine, which is now in its leftovers phase! (You'll find the Malo Mart at neardawnzine.bigcartel.com until May 1st, or while leftover stock lasts!)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Yeta/Yeto (Legend of Zelda)
Characters: Yeta (Legend of Zelda), Yeto (Legend of Zelda)
Additional Tags: Horror, Psychological Horror
Summary:
In the drifts near the Snowpeak mansion she calls home, the yeti Yeta makes a most… spellbinding discovery one fateful day.
Written for Near Dawn: A Twilight Princess Zine.
—
I wrote this piece for @neardawnzine, and I’m so excited to be able to share it with you all now! If you missed your chance to get a copy, good news, we just opened up leftover sales here: https://neardawnzine.bigcartel.com/ The store will close on May 1st or until supplies run out, so don’t wait!
Work Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82393726
Title: Golden Hour
Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Characters: Agitha, The Postman, Link, Midna (cameo)
Rating: G
Summary: While the rest of Castle Town prepares for Princess Zelda's coronation, the Bug Princess, Agitha, plans a party of her own.
This is the story I wrote for @neardawnzine, which is now in its leftovers phase! (You'll find the Malo Mart at neardawnzine.bigcartel.com until May 1st, or while leftover stock lasts!)
