Indefinite Hiatus

꒰১ ✦* : ˚ʚ 【 @galaxylonestar ( Welt ) / STARTER CALL. 】 ɞ˚ : ꙳✦ ໒꒱

‧₊˚ ⋅ ꒰১ ᯓ ☆ㅤ˗ˏˋ⠀ㅤ𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒛𝒆𝒓𝒔. Every so often, those who befriended the crew would come aboard for their own reasons. Some had no way of traveling across the planets otherwise. Or sometimes, those passengers simply wished to SPEND TIME with the Express.

˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ⠀Of course, all of those people who came by tended to bring some BAGGAGE along. And with more people came more chances for that baggage to be left behind.

˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ⠀That was when he saw it. A lone Stellar Cartography magazine stuffed between the velvet seats. That magazine was one of the only things that could pull him away from cleaning the parlor car (ㅤ—ㅤfor the third time that day ).

˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ⠀And there he was, sitting on the seats with the mop cast aside and the magazine in his hand. His lavender sights were clearly fixed on the pages; taking in EVERY word of the planets beyond.

˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ⠀ONLY when he saw the man walk in did he joltㅤ—ㅤthe magazine falling to the side as he quickly grabbed the mop again.

˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ⠀❛ㅤI - I'm sorry, Mister Yang ! I'll get back to work !ㅤ❜⠀

As he steps closer cane clicking against the floor, his eyes lock onto the magazine that had been discarded onto the velvety seats, "Would you show me what caught your attention Misha?" His tone was tender, out of everyone on the express, somehow it was Misha who reminded him most of Joey. He didn't want to linger entirely on how that was, or what that meant. But for now, he leaned over and scanned the front and back covers.

“Your form with that blade is refined, but I can see potential for improvement as well. I am curious, who passed down their bladework?”

It was likely a name she wouldn't know all things considering, the Hero of Time wasn't of this realm after all, nor was the Hero of the Skies. "There's always the potential for improvement in a knight's field of work miss, however, I'm no knight. Merely a Goatherd. So I think my skill can fly under the radar just a little bit."

Set it all on fire, let it burn up brighter

Love is a flame, and it's dancing away, to David playing on a lyre

Set it all on fire, let the smoke go higher

'Cause darling, I'll love you

     “ Ya'd fight an aeon f'er me? ” That's not the sort of thing they thought they'd ever hear. And he says it so - casually.

. . . Til, if Link blinked again, the image would become clear, and he might realize that a young boy, no older than thirteen, knelt over him.

Nata leans back, sucking a breath of relief as his fingers pressed into the loose, hot sand surrounding them. "You're okay!" Or, well, mostly okay. Not dead, at least. Nata had stumbled upon the unconscious fellow within the shade of a fulgurite structure, its shadow a safe haven from the intense heat of the Windward Plain.

Slowly, Nata tries to help the other sit up, deciding to withhold his questions for now in an effort to let the other breathe.

Link winced as he slowly sat up with the boy's help, his pain tolerance was stupidly high and for that he was grateful. But because of that, he was more careful with the injury count. No broken bones, no... Yeah he guessed he was okay. At least, as okay as he'd ever be anyway. His head hurt, like he'd been slugged over the head with a club again but that wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"As okay as I c'n be 'nyway" He finally speaks, moving to brush a hand along his own jaw. Nothing broken there either. The fact that he still had his hand was another relief in of itself. "Say, where are we?" His gaze leaves the boy for a moment, scanning their surroundings, this didn't look anything like the Gerudo desert. It sure looked as though it could be sat in the middle of the desert province though, if he really squinted. But something in him quickly shot the possibility down, something felt off.

Ica sneezes once, twice, and a third time as he rapidly backs up. "D-Doot doo?! Doot doot do doot!" Who are you?! Don't eat him, he's not tasty!

Turning his attention to the girl before him, shaking his head. If he were going to eat something, he'd sooner go out of his way to hunt something if he had to, flying horse things were not on the menu. Not at all. But Hyacine and Ica, those were names he'd have to remember. His chin was in her hands the moment she held them out, and for a moment, a familiar cloaked figure stood in Hyacine's place before he blinked the image away. A small nod, he could luckily understand her, it sounded like a different dialect than he was used to though.

Though he himself would have to get a little creative on how to respond to her inquiries.

I read somewhere that Twilight is a sad, wet dog who misses his girlfriend, I love that descripcion.