Fanfare for a Hero Displaced in Time [Complete]
Character(s): Link, Luxord, possibly Carpet
Content: A hero, a nobody, and a rug (maybe) meet in a city street...
Setting: Muspelheim
Time: Midday
Warnings: None yet
A gate shaped like a leaping flame stood like a sentinel before the Golden Land. Streams of people flowed through it, and a man stood behind a desk, passing out books and strange little things the like of which Link had never seen.
The Hero of Time, the bearer of the Triforce of Courage, felt distinctly out of place among the blond-haired, blue-eyed, short-eared panoply of Paixao's citizenry. What was worse, some of the women seemed to have the -strangest- ideas about him. Apparently, something about him struck chords somewhere deep inside of them.
As he walked down the street, he wondered at the ground underfoot. He'd never seen such craftsmanship! He couldn't even see where the flagstones joined. It was a wonder that anyone could walk on them, so wondrous were they. And the bushes and grass here seemed made of rupees. Yet another wonder; he'd long since stuffed his money pouch. But now, the sun was fading from the sky, and while it seemed safe, he had never relished sleeping in the open at night.
Monsters walked at night. They craved the dark places, rose from the ground to greet the blackened sky. And when they came, it was wisest to run... because they would -keep- coming till the sun came up.
No, it wasn't wise at all to be outside after dark...
Content: A hero, a nobody, and a rug (maybe) meet in a city street...
Setting: Muspelheim
Time: Midday
Warnings: None yet
A gate shaped like a leaping flame stood like a sentinel before the Golden Land. Streams of people flowed through it, and a man stood behind a desk, passing out books and strange little things the like of which Link had never seen.
The Hero of Time, the bearer of the Triforce of Courage, felt distinctly out of place among the blond-haired, blue-eyed, short-eared panoply of Paixao's citizenry. What was worse, some of the women seemed to have the -strangest- ideas about him. Apparently, something about him struck chords somewhere deep inside of them.
As he walked down the street, he wondered at the ground underfoot. He'd never seen such craftsmanship! He couldn't even see where the flagstones joined. It was a wonder that anyone could walk on them, so wondrous were they. And the bushes and grass here seemed made of rupees. Yet another wonder; he'd long since stuffed his money pouch. But now, the sun was fading from the sky, and while it seemed safe, he had never relished sleeping in the open at night.
Monsters walked at night. They craved the dark places, rose from the ground to greet the blackened sky. And when they came, it was wisest to run... because they would -keep- coming till the sun came up.
No, it wasn't wise at all to be outside after dark...