#viladlind 01

[thiefandlyre]

I hope I don't have to fight my evil shadow self today [Roots]

In a way, it’s a relief. He’d known something bad was coming, and here it was. Now he no longer had to deal with the anticipation hanging over his head like a sword, suspended by a fraying thread.

This new prison is opulent; it reminds Octavo of the time he’d spent working in Hyrule castle, if only in atmosphere. Fine furniture, warm wood paneling, splashes of vibrant greenery, all pervaded by a persistent feeling of unease, as if he knew corpses were rotting behind the walls. He’d woken to the sound of distant shouting and screams, the thudding of hurried footsteps on the upper floors.

Before he has the chance to encounter another living soul, he rounds a corner and finds himself face to face with his doppelganger. It slams into him, pinning him to the wall, face a mask of fury.

“You absolute, blithering fool!” It hisses. Its nails dig into his shoulders. Octavo kicks it in the shin, sending it stumbling.

“What is this?” he snaps. “What are you?”

As it staggers to its feet, he gets a better look at it. Not quite a spitting image. It’s too young, having trouble keeping its balance. The clothes it wears are simple, ill-fitting, breeches and a rough tunic without any shoes, like it had stolen them out of someone’s laundry. Someone’s tried to remake him, but they went too far into the past. This is him before he’d made the Lute, before he’d been set upon the path that had led him to his death at the hands of Ganon, over and over again.

The double does not reply, charging him again. Octavo backs into what appears to be a game room at a glance, multiple round tables surrounded by chairs, a dart board on the wall. In a flash of purple smoke, the double vanishes, reappearing behind him and grabbing him around the torso.

“You trapped us!” Its teeth click next to his ear. “I earned my freedom, only for you to condemn us to madness in a time loop!”

Octavo twists in its grip, teleporting himself and the double in panic. It trips, falling backwards and sending them sprawling to the floor with Octavo on top of it. He elbows it in the stomach and thrashes free of its grip, lurching to his feet. As it wheezes and tries to get up, he grabs one of the chairs next to the gaming tables and swings it around, slamming it into the double’s face. It falls back to the ground, blood splattering the paisley carpet. It does not get up.

He stands over it, breathing hard, dread pooling in his stomach.

@viladlind

[lighthouseforghosts]

@viladlind !

Rixian's not actually paying any mind to Fiyero - the food stalls of the Star Trail have caught his eye, particularly one with sweet bread that smelled enticingly like the pastries served at the Summer Solstice festival in Waterdeep. They were a childhood favorite of his, considering they were served around his birthday, and they had entirely consumed his attention.

There are a paid of eyes looking at the bright pink performer. Bael, the winged serpent that was enjoying his freedom from being magically transformed, was looped around Rixian's shoulders and half-concealed by his cowl - or he was, until he lifts his head and flicks his tongue at Fiyero in greeting.

[illmater]

@viladlind .

"Your...music."

Immeral feels adrift in a sea of unfamiliar places and the faces of those who were definitely not from Baldur's Gate or the surrounding cities. It had been that quiet melody, a song he had heard hummed by women hanging washing out the windows and sung drunkenly by men at the Elfsong Tavern.

It had drawn him out of the shadows of the awnings to listen closer, head tilted to one side and then the other before he speaks up.

"Where are you from? Outside of here. You must have been to - the Gate before."

[raudrraven]

@viladlind !

The sound of music soothes even the most frazzled mind. All the change and noise and surprise had him worked up into a frenzy that calmed the instant he heard the sound of a bow pulled across strings.

Finding the performer was a task all its own, but once he laid eyes on them, he couldn't help but take a seat nearby, legs tucked up onto the low wall he had taken refuge on with his cape folded under his legs.

He sits in the sound for a long time before he offers a bright smile as he's notice, digging through his things.

"Hey! Your music is really nice. I, uh, don't have any money to offer, but I have some trail mix I'm willing to share."

"Did you go to school to learn how to do that? Or did you teach yourself?"

[punisheye]

So, he's not staring, because that's rude. And we all know Nicholas D. Wolfwood is incredibly polite; he's the pinnacle of grace and tact. This person just happens to be... in his line of sight, and very difficult not to notice from where he's leaning back against his motorcycle.

Cigarette smoke mixes with the fog of his breath in the cold air. Wolfwood taps the ashes to the ground.

Gracefully and tactfully he speaks up:

"So, you probably get this a lot." Wolfwood's sure he's probably bracing himself for the inevitable question. "Or... maybe not. Everyone back home pink like you?"

@viladlind

[swordsovereign]

@viladlind ❲ phantasm amalgam, part 1 ❳

Oh! Well, this person definitely wasn't a draph, not with that skin tone, but there was something comforting about the appearance of something draph adjacent. A little taste of the home that he hadn't even known that he'd left. Or, he didn't remember why he left-

There was probably a reason.

Or, this is just another simulation by Logia! Nailed it! No, that's not it at all. Let me have this one, just stop talking!

❝ I'm going to guess you're new here, ❞

Way to state the obvious. Well. might as well keep going.

This one's pretty easy on the eyes, too! Guess it's my lucky day! Time for the classic Seofon Charm!

The what? Oh, like you had any better luck! You're going to tell me that someone who destroyed the six pillars of reality in his world was able to score more dates than a version who isn't doing any of that? Fat chance!

❝ I just moved in, too- at least that's one way to look at it. Things here are a little weird to say the least, but if you'd like, maybe we could stick together for a bit and figure this place out. ❞

Nailed it!

[cerruleanmonarch]

@viladlind (sc)

Lucia's gaze is absorbed in her cell phone as she strolls down the pavement, trying her best to understand both the technology of the current open application, as well as the information written itself. This becomes a problem, at last, when she walks directly into a stranger's back, stumbling back in surprise as she tries to maintain her grip on her phone. "My sincerest apologies, I--"

And when she glances up from her barely-there grip on her device, she loses it in her surprise, and her phone drops to the pavement. She'd never seen someone so thoroughly pink before. "--Ah, I apologize, I... I was not paying attention to my surroundings."

[vcinglcry]

@viladlind

It's a guitar he's found abandoned in those strange ruins. What did people call it? Yesteryear or something? It's definitely not something one can play with. the sounds are all jacked up, but Juliyah doesn't seem to care. Music is music and it doesn't matter from where it comes from.