#guiltrot

She stares at him, it was something in his voice. Something in his eyes. She recognised him, she knew that voice. 

She steps back, hands clutching at her head as a wave of noise and images washes over her. A blue flash, Vander’s corpse so much bigger then it should be, shimmer pink veins. The thing in Singed’s lab that she saw once in passing before the scientist had shooed her out... 

She lets out a pained sob. Her head hurts so much. Vander stares down at her, anger in his voice but she cant make out words its just noise and the image of his body. vi screaming at her, hitting her, the fire and the smell of smoke, the feeling of falling- 

When she opens her eyes, she's crouched on the floor, fingers clutching her hair so tight that there's stars flickering in her vision. Her breathing is ragged, panicked, her eyes seemingly a brighter pink as the shimmer in her body reacts to her state. 

She looks at him again, blinking as she tries to calm herself, her hands are still in her hair. 

“Vander?” 

Her voice is small, childish. She can’t focus, she’s so confused. 

@guiltrot​ sent:  “Heard about what happened. Heard there’s one still missing.“ (Have young vander meeting Silco for the first time tho)

Slowly drying blood smeared itself across Silco’s nose, which had been just short of being broken due to the force those damned brutes had been throwing at him. Their size hadn’t deterred the young Silco, who had thrown himself at them with all the force his young body could muster, just for a chance to get his hard-earned coin back from them. It hadn’t gone well, resulting in Silco being thrown against a wall with all the delicacy of a boulder. It was days like this he cursed the fact he never had an ounce of muscle on his form, but it would seem the gift of a large physique was something he couldn’t receive. Long fingers drug themselves down his features before he looked up towards the man who had decided to come check up on him. His blue eyes darted between his fingertips, as though judging if he could trust this new man or not, but eventually he stood up so as he could face him with both of feet planted.

“Yeah? Sure you could hear a whole lot with all the blunder those bastards were saying.” The youth stated with a huff, hands resting on his hips as he looked up at the other. “Wouldn’t be surprised if they already spent half of my HARD EARNED MONEY--” He shouted that down the alleyway, though he doubted the brutes were around anymore to hear it. “--on bad booze and equally bad company.” His eyes locked once more on the stranger and he snorted.

It’s all the same. Without someone to protect her, Powder is alone. She has no one, as trapped in dreamland as she feels in the real world sometimes. She reaches out as a burning world envelops her, begging for someone to save her.

Someone... Anyone!

Where is Vi? She hasn’t come. Powder’s crying for her, but she isn’t here. Not in this wasteland. It’s an abysmal emptiness, a world that wasn’t created with her in mind. She trembles like a leaf every time she’s back here. Why did she have to come back?

She’s grabbed and every instinct kicks in, screaming just like she had been. Even with a tearstained face she flails, yelling for Vi in her desperate attempt to make them let go.

Despite fighting so hard, she gives up as soon as she sees it’s Vander. With a whimper, Powder throws her arms around her dad. Her face buries itself into his chest, her tiny body continuing to shake as it had done throughout the nightmare.

It takes her a moment, but she looks back up when she’s ready to speak. ❝ I was... so scared that... that nobody would be there to save me... ❞

Send me ‘Shipping and Handling’ for romance advice regarding my muse(s)!

Link is very tactile, but he doesn't like it when someone holds his hands too much. Instead, he likes it when someone he is romantic with plays with his hair. Rubs his back. Traces lines down his arms. Lets him rest his head on their shoulder. Cuddles in his lap. 

These signs of affection that speak to a tactile intimacy but won’t smother his ability to speak.

Do you plan on using your power to take control of Hyrule once more? Aren't you tired of the cycle?

Ask my muse one thing you’ve always wanted to know about them!

It’s a little vai out in the market. He’s at the fountain, rinsing out his hair in the early morning, before the sand sets in and the winds pick up. It’s the perfect time to braid it up. He’s used to the publicity, to people coming to speak to him– being the first prince in five generations did that. His scimitars were at his belt, just in case.

It still didn’t prepare him for the words she spoke. How could she know? He takes another look at her, his hands leaving his hair to slowly place on the pommel of his blade. He was trained by the best, who trained Lady Urbosa. He could draw faster than an arrow could shoot.

He doesn’t take his eyes off her, this young thing, with harrowed tired eyes.

            ❛  I am very tired of it. I’m doing my best to help her Highness Zelda to prevent it from happening. Who are you?  ❜

It was a happenstance that he came across him. He had not even been looking, but exploring the wares the city provided. Why he hadn’t just drawn his bow and fired, was beyond him. He could have stopped the cycle from even continuing with a simple arrow between the eyes... but his centuries of living made him curious. This version... he was younger than the ones he had encountered before. He didn’t look completely corrupt- he didn’t look evil yet.

But should he have given mercy to the person that was cursed to bring Hyrule’s doom? He stared coldly at the Gerudo, sizing him up and knowing full well that he had to play things carefully. He had already given away his position, he wasn’t but a few feet from the voe, and a quick glance to Ganon’s hand confirmed that any move for his weapon would probably be his last. While he knew he could out speed the other, he didn’t underestimate him. He clearly knew how to fight with his scimitars, if he had other abilities, Vio didn’t know yet and wasn’t keen to find out currently. 

He hadn’t expected to see him for another few years, but that didn’t matter now. 

Vio sighed through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. For a Ganon to say he was tired of it was surprising, and for a Ganon to work along side Zelda was even more so. He narrowed his eyes trying to sense the lie, but upon finding it sincere, he canted his head to the side, scowling and crossing his thin arms over his chest. 

He startles her, she turns and nearly shoots before it registers who it is. she lowers her gun, exhaling, her nerves are on fire. She thought’s she’d seen vi again. That blue haired enforcer with her. She’d given chase but she’s not even convinced it was real now. 

@guiltrot sent:

The water is cold, his body sinks. It's familiar. The burn eats his flesh, fills his veins. Staggering through the muck, he can only stumble himself out as far as the familiar spot. A treebranch catches his boots in the sticking mud-- Silco falls, and doesn't resist. The waters had been chasing him for years. Finally. Finally they could have him. Take his blasted body, and wash his spirit away. It wasn't peace, but it was a blank state that was as close to ease as he's felt in years. It felt like the first time Vander held his hand. Comforting. Encompassing. Insistently there. Silco doesn't even try to hold his breath, swallowing the water in the shallow stuttering final breaths in the cold river of runoff -- from the City of Progress.

Within the reflection of the water, just under the surface, it seemed to lurk. A big, hulking, massive thing with too many teeth and a gaping maw. It could always smell something in the water, like a shark to blood, and it knew it was time. Time to take and take and take.

"Well, well, well--" the voice rumbled, deep and tilted. A purr and a growl all in one, raising along with the lapping waters as they touch against Silco's wounds. Once more the blood was mixing with the water, soaking out of it like a breach in the earth's core. "Seems the prodigal son has come home."

The thing moves in mass, lurching up out of the darkness of the water, sludge and build up and weeds lounging over it. A pair of glowing eyes glint in the mass, marked equal with the massive teeth. However, in the brief moment, the thing seemed to lurch and twitch, then deflate, plunging once more into the waters. The thing that came out of the mass was much more familiar, as it wore a similar face to the kingpin floating in the muck.