You can tell a lot about a person by entering their mind palace and encountering their greatest fears and darkest hopes in a labyrinth reflective of their subconscious thoughts.
I think part of getting better is complete ego death. Like you’re not above setting a timer for 5 minutes and focusing on a task. You’re not above doing a very simple 3 minute workout to start. You’re not above reading for 10 minutes a day when you first get out of your reading slump, even if you used to read for hours. You’re not above starting slow and then building up to where you want to be/where you once were. What you are above is total inertia. Doing something really is better than doing nothing. Radically accept where you are, radically accept your limits, and go from there. Don’t let your ego get in the way.
Literally nobody asked, but I really like the idea that Hyrule was the first of the chain to be brought into the whole adventure.
I know a lot of people hc that Wild is the last to join the group, and my brain adores the symmetry of having Hyrule be the first link in the chain. Because his game was the first released and Wilds game is the last.
The poor lad was so confused to be dropped in Legend's Hyrule. He and Leg spent a week trying to figure out wtf happened before rinse and repeat, they end up on Oot Hyrule.
@tortilla-of-courage I haven't stopped cackling the entire time I wrote this, and it is entirely because of you.
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Link didn't mean to slam the door in the strangers face. Well, no actually he did. He didn't mean to be rude about it, but he definitely meant to slam the door.
It's just...of all the ways he thought his morning would start, having green clad stranger knock on his door was not one of them. Never mind a stranger, armed to the teeth, asking him about his name of all things.
He takes a deep breath, steadying his heart rate and pushes himself away from the wooden surface behind him. Though only in his mid teens, Link likes to think he has a keen eye for trouble– Damned Goddess knows he wouldn't have lived this long if that weren't the case – and right now his better sense is screaming at him to walk away and ignore the shadow he can see shift awkwardly under the door gap.
But hell if he isn't a little curious.
Link is a little dissapointed in himself with how short his internal debate lasts, before caving to his worse judgement, and with a groan he turns around and pulls the door back open.
The man is still there. Honestly, Link isn't sure why he is suprised.
"Sorry," he says, arms crossed and not sounding the least bit remorseful, "Can I help you with something?"
"Uh-"
The brown haired traveler blinks wide eyed, taken aback by either the curt tone, the door slam or some combination of the two. Guilt from his rudeness laces through the pit of Links stomach when it becomes clear that the stranger doesn't know how to respond, and he drops his arms, stepping aside and gesturing for the brunet to come in.
"I was just about to start breakfast, we could discuss whatever it is you have come for over toast."
It is by far the most uncomfortable meal Link has ever had in his life. They don't actually do any talking, each man munching on the slightly burnt pieces of bread in total silence. His visitor spends the majority of the meal looking everywhere but at Link, eyes darting from one object to another in poorly disguised fascination before looking away as if afraid to be caught. For his part, the blonde takes the time to observe the newcomer. He can't be much older then himself, his limbs gangly in the way of a teenager still coming into their body. With the plain green tunic over worn brown undergarments and hair that looks like it has never seen a proper haircut in it's life, Links guest looks alarmingly...simple. If it weren't for the arsenal of weapons piled by the door and the faint sense of magic emminating from the teen, Link would think the stranger normal.
"Thank you for the food," the traveler says after he has finished eating, and Link is struck by the genuine gratitude over what was an admetedly poor meal.
"Don't mention it." He shrugs. "So what can I do for you?"
The teen shifts in his seat.
"I saw your sign out front. Is uh, is your name Link?"
The blonde nods.
"Yeah, but the shop is closed. My-" he pauses for a moment, considering how best to describe Ravio other then as a sometimes roommate, "-my business partner is out of town, and he does most of the running of the store."
"That's- that's not what I wanted to ask about. I'm a little lost." The teen admits sheepishly, "Things look familiar but I can't quite place where I am and I was wondering if you-"
Link misses the rest of the question, mind caught on the way the other man said 'things look familiar'. His sense of trouble is tingling again, urging him to acknowledge the growing familiarity at the situation.
"Hyrule," he states, cutting the other off. "You are in Hyrule. Not far from the castle."
"Oh," the traveler deflates, and Link finds his hope for a normal morning slipping further from his grasp. With dread gnawing at his stomach, Link swallows and steels himself to ask the question he is absolutely certain he doesn't want to know the answer to.
"What did you say your name was?"
The stranger sucks in a breath, expression pained and slowly, watching for how his host will react, responds.
"About that..."
Link doesn't try to remain polite, and wails as his head hits the table.
Link was having a very strange day. Not the new one, the old one. The one who had a door slammed in his face. That one.
It had been a normal day, or as normal as things ever were for him, though a normal day by his standards already involved a considerable amount of hijinx and thus what most would consider to be a normal day would have been a very strange day for Link due to the uncharacteristic lack of hijinx.
But this day had been strange by anyone's standards. Most people don't have deep dark swirling portals into an unknown void open up before them, but most people don't also have demonic cults out for their blood. Fortunately. Getting attacked all the time was really rather inconvenient. But anyway, Link had been examining the portal, trying to determine whether or not it would kill him if he touched it, when the portal was evidently sick of being looked at and moved forward of its own accord, sweeping through the air and whisking Link off to... somewhere.
He found himself plopped face-first in a grassy field—it smelled different, somehow, than the grassy fields at home—and shook his head as if that would clear it, looking around for the portal. There was nothing save sunshine, birdsong, and the distant spires of a castle on the horizon. He must have left Hyrule, he mused, as their castle was nowhere near as impressive or in such good condition.
He spun around a little, unsure of how to proceed, before deciding to do what he usually did and pick the most interesting direction to walk in and start walking. That direction in this particular scenario was the direction of the castle so, adjusting his sword and shield and other miscellaneous adventure paraphernalia, he started walking. It was a nice walk, by which he meant that for the duration of the walk, nothing attempted to kill him as a blood sacrifice to resurrect an ancient evil hell-bent on the destruction of everything Link knew and loved. So, nice walk.
It wasn't long before he came over a rise to spot a small house on a hill. Figuring he could get some directions from the person inside—and silently reaching out for his magic in case Ganon's blood cult made it all the out to... wherever the heck he was—Link made it way to the house. As he approached, he noticed that the house was labeled. It was really very convenient. Now Link couldn't read very well, but he knew his own name, and that name was most certainly the same one as his name. Link had never met someone with the same name as him before, but granted, Link hadn't met very many people with any name before, so he didn't have the greatest sample size.
From there, Link knocked on the door, and you are all well aware of what happened next.
The stranger, though—also named Link, as Link soon discovered—was very strange and fond of screaming. Link wasn't sure if that was because he was upset or because screaming and smacking one's head into a table were commonplace activities in this place, which was evidently also Hyrule, but Link was somehow skeptical of that.
After a brief conversation that Link really tried to handle as quickly and delicately as possible (which meant rambling out all of the relevant information in an attempt to finish before the other Link could smack his head into the table again (he was too slow, evidently, and the other Link got two more head smacks in before Link finished talking)), the other Link told him to "just sit there and not let the world end while I go grab everything I own and staple it to my person so it doesn't all get whisked into the void. Again."
So, Link sat, listening to cursing and rummaging—he suspected that very little of the cursing was directed at the actual items—until the other Link arrived downstairs again, now decked out with two tunics, a red one layered over a green one, a blue hat, a half dozen rings, a necklace with not one, not two, but three medallions, a beautiful amber blade with an indigo hilt, and a shield that shimmered like silver.
Link felt his eyes go wide at the sheer power and presence of this man who still had the disposition of someone who had woken up to find a particularly pesky unwanted visitor once again inside his house.
"Aight, point me in the direction of the thingy."
Link couldn't help but cock his head.
"The... thingy?"
The other Link flapped his hands uselessly, gesturing to everything and nothing, before finally pushing past Link and opening the door. In front of the small cobblestone pathway leading to the nearby road hung that very same pulsing purple portal that he'd seen before. Was he going to go back home with this helpful stranger in tow? He hoped not; this stranger seemed irritable and Link would really rather like to avoid spending extended periods of time with him and thus ending up on his bad side.
After squinting at the portal for a moment, the other Link pursed his lips and slammed the door shut again.
"What if I just stand here. What if I just stand here and don't move again."
Link blinked, staring at the other Link, who glared at the door before reaching out reluctantly, now glaring at the door as if it was the door's fault Link was opening it. Before he got the proper chance to actually open the door, though, An eerie purple glow emanated from behind the doorframe and the portal surged forward, swallowing the other Link's door and soon, the two Links.
Link was once again face first in a grassy field—this one also smelling different than either of the other two, which was interesting as Link hadn't realized grass could smell so many different ways before—when he was pulled to his senses by a frustrated scream.
He looked up to find the other Link holding his door out at arm's length, the hinges seared clean off, and shouting profanity at nothing.
Link looked around, spotting yet another unfamiliar spire approximating that of Hyrule Castle, yet this time, there was also a ranch nearby. He began to walk towards the ranch, looking over to see the other Link grumble to himself and he somehow fit the entire door into his pocket and followed suit, muttering something about "did you really have to take the door, too, I was gonna go through anyway and you know it."
Link just hoped the person who ran the ranch would know what was going on. And preferably wasn't named Link as that seemed like it would get confusing.
Malon was enjoying a perfectly normal day before the knock came to her door. A normal day where she and her husband got up at their normal time and did their normal chores, ate an average breakfast and went through their normal morning routines before Link left the main house to feed and water the horses. Malon had stayed inside to finish cleaning up the breakfast dishes before the not-so-normal knock sounded. She put down her wash cloth after drying her hands and went to answer the door.
She opened the door to a very particular sight. Two young men both armed to the teeth but with different mannerisms. One was dressed in green and brown and looked very relieved to see her for reasons Malon couldn’t comprehend. The other was dressed in a red, green and blue combination and had far too many rings and an odd pink streak in his hair. This man was glaring off into the middle distance muttering angrily about a door stealing his door so Malon decided to address the first stranger.
“Good morning to you, how can I help you?”
The green clad lad rubbed the back of his head in an uncanny resemblance to her husband. A uncertain grin spread over his face and Malon internally braced herself for something out of the ordinary, she had developed something of a sixth sense for these things. (She’d have to with a significant other like hers.)
“Good morning ma’am. My name is Link and my-” he paused, as if he was uncertain in how to refer to the other as, “traveling companion and I are a bit lost.”
Malon opened the door wider for the two of them, she had a feeling they’d end up staying for longer than Link or his friend thought they might be.
“Why don’t y’all come on in and I’ll go save Link from the horses. I think y’all might have some things to discus.”
Both Malon and the younger Link jumped at the sound of a loud thump and turned in unison to see the red clad boy smacking his head on the wall of her house. The wife of Link was more than certain his name was also Link too.
So much for her normal morning, but she was used to it. Her fairy boy was a hero after all.
Once when I was in undergrad, someone described something as “problematic” in class and our professor was like, “That’s cool, but ‘problematic’ doesn’t really mean anything. It means that the thing you’re describing has a problem, and in and of itself that’s not bad. Art, especially, should always have problems, or else it’s not interesting and not art, either. It sounds like you’re trying to say that this is bad, but you don’t want to say ‘bad.’ Is that right?”
So from then on whenever one of us called something problematic, he would make us talk it out until we could name the “bad” thing we were hinting at. In this particular class, 7/10 it was some type of oppression, and the remainder was like, “I’m uncomfortable because this is very new/confusing/pushing boundaries that made me feel safe.”
Once we stopped calling things “problematic” and stopping at that, class got way more interesting and... we all had to say, like, “that’s racist” or “that’s misogynistic” or “ew capitalism gross” out loud, which a lot of us had never done in a classroom before. Or we had to be like, “Uhhh... I’m not sure what’s so bad?” and confront our own beliefs and that was maybe even more useful.
Anyway. Whenever I see the word problematic, I can’t help but think of this professor being like, “Good starting point, now let’s get specific.” I think when we have to commit to saying “that’s ___” it requires a lot more careful thought about the truth and impact and complexities of whatever we’re claiming. Sometimes there really is some bullshit afoot, and also sometimes it’s art, and it should be full of problems, because that’s what art is.
snowghoul
origamiaround
amandla
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
gummygunk
