Jindal needs to be taught the facts of life. Also, remember remember.

Also, he needs to SHUT UP BECAUSE I'M TRYING TO WRITE A NOVEL HERE, but mostly he needs to be taught the facts of life.

Word count: 13779

Two things happened today. Well, more than two things, I suppose.
First of all, it was the fifth. As is fitting I wore black. Yuck. Remember remember, the fifth of November... did you know we the L fans adopted that? Yes, I am fairly certain that we did.
It was the first day of the new quarter. I am now in R.G.'s English class! Also in Elements and Principles of Design. Gah. Can we get to the DRAWING bit already? This is boring!
ALSO WHITE THINGS FELL FROM THE SKY. NOT VERY MANY WHITE THINGS, BUT DEFINITELY WHITE THINGS. It is only the fifth of November. T_____T Why should snow fall from the sky now?
Finally, Jindal and his Twili history are preying on my mind. Jindal revealed to me yesterday that he is very fond of Dawdon. Very fond. In fact he's saying that Dawdon is his beloved. This is a problem; Dawdon is male. Jindal is male. Midna is supposed to be Jindal's greatgreatgreatgreat etc granddaughter.
SOMETHING IS WRONG HERE.
Several times I have told Jindal that in order for this all to work out, he has to express interest in someone who HAS A WOMB. *shakes head wearily* Look, I know that Dawdon is dear to you, but... this just doesn't work, darling.
Anyway, here's what I have so far, continuing from an earlier entry, I think... Twilight Princess spoilers, of course.
--

Consciousness came back to me slowly. You… have never felt being a spirit, correct? We all did that day. It was like being only half-there, like having pieces of your soul break off and disintegrate. I was unwilling to move, even when I had regained full consciousness, and instead I stayed lying where I was. I, the prince of my people. I didn’t yet know I would soon be their ruler, but still, I could have been stronger.

I did not get up until a man came running up to me.

I had seen him before. He was one of the strongest warriors of our tribe, and father had commended him once or twice.

“Prince,” he said to me, looking anxiously into my face, “there is something I must show you. Come with me.”

He offered me his hand to help me up, and I stared at it for a moment. Pathetically, I did not want to get up. I just wanted to lie around until I felt better, and if I never felt better then I was fine with staying where I was until I died.

But he said “Prince, please,” and grasped my arm, half-forcing me to stand. So I went with him.

Around me, things looked strange. The light seemed… uncertain of itself, if that makes any sense at all. It seemed dirty, hazy. The sky was a strange color. When I looked around, it seemed that the land we stood on was an island, floating in… nothingness.

All in all, it made me feel sick to my stomach.

The man led me down a narrow stretch of land; and after we had walked for a few moments, I saw my mother and father. It could only be them, but there was no way for me to actually recognize them. Their bodies had been burnt—charred black in punishment for setting foot into the Sacred Realm. They no longer looked human. I fell to my knees in front of them as tears began to pour from my eyes. I tried to shut my eyes to keep the tears in—but then the warrior gasped. “Prince!”

I opened my eyes again, and through my tears I watched as my parents began to emit a strange, white-greenish glow and floated several feet off the ground. I watched in confusion and horror. The light emanating from their bodies grew brighter, brighter, too bright; I looked away. Then suddenly there was a rushing noise, and I looked back to my mother and father—but they were gone, and in their places floated two orbs of light.

Curiously, the light from these orbs refreshed and strengthened me.

By now you have figured out, of course, that these were the Sols, our version of the sun, which give energy to the world we now call Twilight. Very few of my people know of the origin of the Sols. It would be best that you did not tell my Princess.

The Sols, these orbs of light that had only moments before been my parents, floated higher and higher until they shed light on all of us.

“My king…” said the warrior, still next to me. His voice sounded stronger than it had before.

I pretended—or maybe it really didn’t even register, I don’t remember—not to know that he was talking to me; I looked towards the orb that had been my father.

“My king,” he said again, touching my shoulder. I shook my head.

“He’s your king,” I said, pointing. “I am the prince.”

“No, Jindal, you are king now,” he said, his voice softer on my name as if he feared I would be offended by his using it. “You are our king now.”

“My father—” I began, but I knew it was useless. The Sols shone and strengthened me. I swallowed the rest of my sentence. “I will rule, but I will always be the prince,” I said. “We must never forget what happened to my parents.”

And we never have, of course. My Princess said as much. The shame and horror and pain that result from rising against the goddesses are burned into every Twili soul. If a Twili were to think of defying the goddesses—it would be an anomaly in itself, but the Twili would be terrified of the idea. It’s part of who we are.

But I get ahead of myself again. I had no way of understanding any of that on the first day, or even at any time during my natural lifespan. Not until the goddesses infused me with the light of the moon, the sun’s inconsistent, muted cousin, could I step back from what I felt well enough to understand what had happened to us.

Back then, I tried to act kingly. “Warrior,” I addressed the man who had brought me to my parents, “you have shown great strength in bringing me here; I am impressed. What is your name?”

“Dawdon, my prince,” he replied with a bow.

“You show the potential to serve our tribe very well. Will you lead my royal guard?”

“I will, my prince.” He looked so noble and proud.

“Dawdon…” I whispered, my kingly attitude suddenly evaporating. “Will you support me?”

He knew I was not referring to my political ideas or my rule. I meant like a crutch. I was asking if he would hold me up, and he knew it.

“I will, my prince,” he said kindly, and he offered me his hand so I could stand.

So-far soundtrack to Hieronymus Bisby:

Hieronymus Bisby: It’s a Holiday Tomorrow (?), Rustle
Yeah, Right:
*Calli: You Mean, During the Break?
Miranda: Supper of the Old Days (?)
Miranda’s Irritation: Hello, Kitty Girl
A Heroic Quest: Brave Willing & TP Medly
Crazy School: Of All Circumstances, Hang On
Penguin Stampede: Miss Yukari Goes Wild 1&2
Once More, With (Sky) Pirates!: Naval Affair
Meeting the Author: Pone, Refrain of Memory, Family Portrait (lain)
Reaction to a Dare: …Well, It’s a Tightrope,
>>Also used for discovering what WallofIllusion writes
Class Discussion: What Are You Talking About?
Jindal (if they meet him): Misty, Strange Dimension

Mostly Azumanga Daioh and Last Exile stuff, with a few others. I need to go through the Azu again to find out which one will work for "Yeah, Right" (I have the tune in mind, but I don't remember what it's called), and Calli's theme is uncertain. She's the one I'm having the most trouble with... I sort of want to make it some indie-pop song, but lyrics would distract me, and unless they're exactly fitted to her personality, it'll just be impossible. So at the moment she gets one of the upbeat break themes.
...Yeah, it really doesn't fit. *headdesk* Back to the... listening board? A DJ Tsar song, perhaps... and I want to be high-pitched and fairly bouncy... No, I know most of those already! Maybe something J-pop-ish? *walks off muttering*
I do rather like "Hello, Kitty Girl" for "Miranda's Irritation."

EDIT: Okay, I've got a more solid list now.

Hieronymus Bisby: Of All Circumstances
Yeah, Right: Somehow
Calliope: Forest Cake
Miranda: 期待
Miranda’s Indignation: Hello, Kitty Girl
A Heroic Quest: Brave Willing & TP Medly
Crazy School: Hang On
Penguin Stampede: Miss Yukari Goes Wild 1&2
Once More, With (Sky) Pirates!: Naval Affair
Meeting the Author: Pone, Refrain of Memory, Family Portrait (lain)
Reaction to a Dare: …Well, It’s a Tightrope,
>Also used for discovering what WallofIllusion writes
Class Discussion: What Are You Talking About?
Jindal (if they meet him): Misty, Strange Dimension

What else I did today: I started writing a history of the Twili from the perspective of Jindal, as told to Anachron. I guess you wouldn't mind seeing that, huh? ("You" tte dare nan da yo.) I'll type it up at the end of the entry, spoilers as usual...
We also went and got passports today. That was long... and after that we went shopping. First at TJ Maxx--I got knit armwarmers with removable gloves. How much does that ROCK? Oh, and I got a shirt. Then Barnes&Noble, where I got Reborn 5. Ranking Futa for the win! You know, this author really can create lovely characters. And then off to Kohl's, where I got several long-sleeved shirts. Stocking up for the winter.

And then I came home and did ^that. :3
Okay, so the Twili history dealio. The spoilers start here.
...Oh, and by the way, I don't own the Legend of Zelda franchise. I don't think I've been disclaiming anything in here. Sorry for misleading you.
~
We were not kind people.
You know enough to know that, right? We tried to take over the world. But even before we tried to force our way into the Sacred Realm, we were warlike, ruthless. Little better than a tribe of wandering raiders.
For example: I learned to use a knife when I was three and was a master by the time I was five. It wasn't an uncommon thing. Everyone in the tribe could fight.
And then there was the magic.
You've seen our destructive magic--utilized it. My Princess has remembered it, though generation upon generation has forgotten. I don't know how she remembered it... I can't know. There are things I can't do despite the divinity I've been granted. Semi-divinity, I suppose. But I'll get to that later.
Do you understand? All of us, even the children, made our living by killing and stealing. We were cruel, immoral. And power-hungry, as you know.
I became the prince of the tribe. Became. I wasn't born into the role, just as my father wasn't born into the role of king. Father took that position when I was six--murdered the former king of our tribe. And Mother and I helped finish off the royal family.
...You are disgusted. Would it calm you at all to know that I am, too? What my parents and I did was despicable. A few thousand years in the light of the Sols has ground that knowledge into my mind.
But I said am, not was--I was not disgustedwith my actions at the time. I was... vicious. Energized.
You look rather ill; shall we move on?
I apologize. The history of my tribe is not pleasant.
My father--we--did not exterminate the previous royalty without... reason. He had an idea for our tribe to gain more power--yes. It was my father who came up with the plan to break into the Sacred Realm. The previous ruler wouldn't allow it--but don't assume it was out of wisdom that he refused. He was unambitious, yes, but obsessed with his own power. Miserly--despicable.
But then, my father was despicable as well, and I.
We're pathetic people.
As for how we [intended to get? got? I forget] into the Sacred Realm, I can't really tell you. I don't remember--the goddesses made sure to wipe that particular memory from our minds, along with our ambition and cruelty. In their mercy.
All I know is that it involved combining* our power in support of Mother and Father, who were the ones to actually trespass in the Secred Realm.
And of course you know the outcome of that attempt.
I do remember some things--most thoroughly, pain. That has always bothered me the most. I don't remember what it felt like to be as focused as I was, but occasionally, back when I could still sleep, I would remember in dreams the pain of that focus being broken. It was like a knife going through my forehead. The pain drove everyone to unconsciouness.
~
*This turned into a nanoism when I was handwriting it: combing, rather than combining.
Please note that when Jindal refers to things as "my," he's not really being loving/respectful like Gen saying "My Queen." Think more along the lines of Gollum's myyyy preciousssssssss.

(>^_^)> <(^_^<) \(^_^)/

Kirby dance of joy!
Today during band that was not band because again, we didn't play anything, I was working on the dance scene picture AGAIN--all that I have left to draw is two hands, a hook, and a design for Gen's Mede style coat with long sleeves :o--and I was trying to design pretty for the queen's dress. And I knew it had to be red and that was about it. So I thought about how she's been described... dark hair tall woven gold and ruby headband matching earrings. Yeah that doesn't tell me a whole lot about the dress -fretfret-, but there was one dress that was described. The green one. I thought about that for a second. I thought, "She wouldn't wear that. He wouldn't like it."

AND THEN I WENT O________Ominekthx.
So I now have an Attolia fanfiction idea living in my head and probably going to be written tomorrow during my double freep. XP Nearly everyone will be gone tomorrow during English SO. Wheeee!

Yup. Nothing else in my day was that exciting. The end. (Really. Pretty much nothing happened. Oh, though I did finish The Looking Glass Wars by whoever wrote it. Borrowed it from R.G. It was quite good.)

Legend of Zelda: Blood-Red Sun

I caught a Hylian loach to-day. And I... worked on a fanfiction which involves... well... to put it very simply... [/Hyrule]. o_O Aheheheh. -_-; It will have no Twilight Princess spoilers! yet. But after the end I'll put a spoiler explaining how this awful sadistic idea came about. If I remember.

I also beat Ganondorf again, for the fun of distracting him via fishing rod.
Anyway, as soon as my computer finds it, I'll paste it into a Notepad doc because to get rid of all the formatting, and then into here.
Here, I found it. Oh, dang, that took out the enters. -sigh-
--
The sun rose red over Hyrule.
The land was in the grip of a great drought. For almost five months, not a single drop of rain had fallen. Few crops had even managed to break the soil this year; there would be no harvest to speak of. And now, as summer drew to its high point with no sign of any cooling rain, people suffered from the searing heat of the red sun.
The sun had been an eerie red ever since the beginning of the drought.
In the small village of Kolha, a young man of about seventeen was on his way to sword training. He had blond hair and eyes the color of the deep sea. On the back of his left hand, there was a strange birthmark, three dark triangles that made a larger triangle.
“Good morning, Jolan,” he said as he saw his trainer.
Jolan smiled back. “Good morning, Link,” he said. “’Fraid I’m going to have to cut practice a little short today, if that’s all right. The mayor was wondering if you could go down and fetch some more water from the spring. The village is running low again.”
“Sure.”
“Sorry. I know it’s hardly fun to spend your day going back and forth from the spring with buckets that are full of water half the time.”
“It’s all right,” Link answered, waving away his trainer’s apology. “Everyone’s doing their part to help the village through the drought. Hauling water is how I help out.”
Jolan gave a laugh. “All right, if you say so. Then for today, I just want to make sure you remember everything I’ve taught you, and then I’ll send you on your way.”
So Link picked up a wooden practice sword, demonstrated the basic sword techniques Jolan had taught him, and sparred for a bit. Finally Jolan nodded in approval. “Nice work,” he said. “You know everything I can teach you. Now, before you—”
“Wait,” Link interrupted. “There’s something I want to show you. Stand back.”
Jolan obligingly took a few steps backwards.
“I’ve been working on this attack for a few months now,” Link told him. “I must have read about it at some point or something, because when I thought about it, it seemed like the idea had always been in my head. But anyway…”
He held out his sword behind him, took a deep breath, and then spun in a quick, controlled circle.
The grass at his feet was suddenly shorter.
“Wow,” Jolan said.
“I call it the spin attack,” Link explained. “The force of the spin gives more strength to the attack, and it also covers all fronts.” He grinned. “It is also, as you see, very nice for cutting grass.”
“So I see,” Jolan agreed. “It’s a great attack, Link. If I’d had any doubts before, you would have just assuaged them.”
“Doubts? About what?”
“About giving you this.” Jolan reached into his bag and brought out a sword and scabbard. “This is for you, Link. Use it well.”
Link took the sword and drew it. “Thank you, Jolan,” he said, touched.“You’re very welcome,” Jolan replied. “And here’s my advice: take it with you when you go to get the water. The drought may be bleeding us dry, but it doesn’t seem to bother monsters and strange creatures at all. They’re more plentiful than ever, and the path to the spring could get dangerous.”
Link nodded, thanked Jolan once again, and then set off for the spring with a pole over his shoulders and two buckets hanging off of it.
Despite Jolan's grave warning, Link found himself walking with an unusual spring in his step. His pride that Jolan had given him the sword completely overpowered any worry he might have felt over the man's advice.
But that changed very quickly when a screech ripped through the air.
Suddenly Link was surrounded by monsters. Misshapen humanoids swarmed towards him from the bushes, swinging crude clubs. He heard wingbeats behind him and turned to see a gigantic vulture swooping down on him. The vulture opened its beak and began to screech again--but Link dropped the buckets, whipped out his new sword, and sliced the creature's neck. It fell to the ground, and Link turned back to the humanoids.
"Damn!" he swore under his breath, his heart pounding. There were so many of them--too many. It quickly became clear that beating them individually wasn't going to get him anywhere. He'd have to use the yet un-tested spin attack.
He held his blade out, focused, let the monsters draw closer. And then he released the attack.
The monsters fell dead at his feet.
Link sheathed the sword and waited for his heart-rate to slow back to normal. He gave a slow sigh of relief.
Then, just as he shouldered the buckets again, he heard hoofbeats. A white horse came into view, ridden by a person in a long gray cloak and a masquerade mask with a cloth over his or her hair, so that only his or her mouth was visible. The horse stopped in front of Link.
"Is your name Link?" the rider asked. It was a female voice.
"Yeah," Link answered, bewildered.
The mouth curved slightly in a smile. "I've been searching for you," she said. "I need to speak with you. Hyrule is in grave danger."
~
So, the inspiration for this depressing little idea. It's got spoiler-ish-ness for the appearance of the eighth dungeon:



I was thinking about Twilight at night a while ago, thinking about how strange it is that if you look out from the Palace you see these floating buildings (which obviously they have to warp to). The bottoms kind of... taper off. Kind as if they used to be part of something else.
I made a decision about what that world was: it was the goddesses' world once. But it ended, and they, once princesses in that world, go and create a new world--Hyrule--and become its goddesses.
So yeah, that's what inspired it. Not much of a story, is it?

Isn't it pretty?

Wheeee! I messed with the layout. Details:
->Based on the basic "Minima" layout
->Picture by my sisters... I think? Taken at the Del Mar Fair several years ago. It was almost deleted, but I saw this and a few like it and was like, "PRETTY. I KEEP. Sooner or later I'll find a use for them." And I did!
->+background image and +opacity were learned from layouts found at pyzam.com
->I've still got more to do.

Other than that... Well, I went to my sisters' soccer game today. They're on varsity now, and T.'s the starting keeper! *oozes pride* And they won, 4-2, against the team that took second place in the state last year~ *oozes more pride*
My parents finally got furniture into the front room of our house. It looks really pretty!
Lots of Neopets time today, mostly spent stuffing things into my Safety Deposit Box for the packrat avatar (1000 unique items in SDB DX). Then someone's shop had a link to lookup help ->looking at Neopets lookups -> wondering how to edit my blogger -> looking at blog layouts ->editing!

So anyway guess what.
Twilight Princess time. Man, this thing needs a name...
Spoilers as always. And lots of speculation in this one... though I could very easily argue in support of my speculation. But really this is just so much elaborate nonsense.
~
The goddesses were silent for a moment. Farore was the first to speak.
"You are still fairly young. Where does your level of sentience fall, compared to your people?"
Midna blinked. "I--"
"She is an outlier," Jindal interrupted smoothly, "and I can explain that. For generations, I have watched with dismay as the Twili degenerate. I knew there had to be something I could do--but with my power, all I could do was bless one person each generation with greater potential
than the others had and hope that that helped. Midna was my choice this time."
"And Zant before me?" There was a hint of accusation to Midna's voice.
Jindal gave a rueful smile. "I granted him intelligence when you were born, hoping that he would be a good tutor for you. Apparently the sudden change did not agree with him, though. It was a bad choice on my part. I owe apologies to everyone here."
~
Mmmrf. I'm having trouble.

It is Near's birthday!

And as such I am attempting to draw him a picture.
Mello: Hey, I didn't get anything on my birthday!
Me: *cowers slightly* I sang to you...
Mello: YOU STOPPED AFTER THE FIRST LINE OF THE CHORUS!
Me: I-it was a school day. That makes it a lot harder. And besides, I wrote something for you on the 26th!
Mello: Wha--how does that make up for it?
Me: Idunnoitdoesn'tI'lldrawyousomethingthisyearIpromisereally.

In any case there's no guarantee that this'll come out properly, anyway.

I forgot to mention, yesterday Dad and I made a birdhouse.
I expect I was rather reminiscient of Cody. Quiet, questioning eyes, trailing after him whatever he did... Psh. XD

I'll be working on the fanfiction in my head before I go to sleep. For now, I'm looking for inspiration!

Edit on the morning of 8/25: Instead I wrote Near a fanfiction.
Inspired by seikatsuryoku: 1/10.
--
Slowly, it occurred to Near that he was conscious again. The realization was mainly brought about by the sensation of two fingers against his right wrist—taking his pulse. Someone was taking care of him.
Near opened his eyes.
“…Doctor,” he said with a smile.
It would have seemed a strange thing indeed to see the skinny old man—a piece of his old life—here, of all places, if Near would have thought about it. In his current faintness, though, it was much easier to simply be comforted by the familiar face that returned his smile.
“Hello, N—” A conspicuous pause, and then an apologetic shrug. “Near. They said you were to be called that.”
Near nodded and sat up. They must have brought him back to his own room after he’d collapsed, he noted. He hoped it hadn’t stood out too much.
“Doctor, am I… am I fine?” he asked.
“Yes,” the doctor replied. “You’re fine, Near. It was another false alarm. You still have many years left to live.”
Near sighed deeply in relief. “Thank goodness,” he said. His voice suddenly seemed smaller. “I was scared, Doctor.”
Mild surprise showed in the doctor’s caring face. “I don’t blame you, Near,” he sympathized. “But that’s the first time you’ve ever admitted that to me.”
“It’s the first time I’ve ever been scared by it,” Near replied. His voice was back to normal. “Well, except for the first time. The first time I didn’t know what was going on. But since then I’ve never forgotten—my body is flawed, and I’ll probably die young. It’s resignation.”
“But you’re not resigned anymore?” Near shook his head. The doctor placed his hand on Near’s and asked softly, “Is it because of what happened to your mother?”
“Oh—no. It’s not about Mom’s death,” Near responded, shaking his head again, with quicker movements this time. “Or only in a very roundabout way, I suppose. There’s just something I’m looking forward to now. A reason I want to keep living.”
“And that reason is?”
Suddenly those emotions bubbled into Near’s chest again, hope and delight and pride, just as they had when L had shown Near his face and asked him to be his apprentice; his hands trembled in excitement. But he hid that joy and made his face apologetic.
“I can’t tell you, Doctor. I’m sorry.”
The doctor sighed. “I expected as much,” he admitted. “…Near, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but from what I’ve seen, this is a strange place you’re living in. Are they treating you all right?”
“Oh, yes,” Near answered readily. And he hesitated, and his eyes fell on the clock next to his bed, confirming his suspicions. “I think I could ask you the same question, Doctor.”
“What do you mean?” the man replied, not faking confusion very well.
“The fastest plane in the world couldn’t have gotten you here this quickly, not from your hospital.”
“I-I was transferred.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Near said quietly. “But I’m sure we had a hand in it, didn’t we?”
The doctor pursed his lips and didn’t respond.
“You’re trying to hide it for my sake. There’s no need to do so; I already know that the House can be very… straight-forward. Compelling, if the need arises.” His mouth gave a wry twitch that was not quite a grimace. “All for this weak body of mine. I’m sorry. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you too much.”
“It’s a very lucrative position,” the doctor reassured him. “Much more so than my previous employment.”
“Of course it is,” Near agreed, “but money isn’t everything.< You had friends back there. And other patients.”
The doctor looked sad for a moment, but then ruffled Near’s hair. “I don’t want you to worry about those things, Near. You’re a child still.”
“I’m not as innocent as you think, Doctor.”
“No, I suppose not,” the doctor smiled, “but will you pretend for me?”
Near shrugged in appeasement. “I guess I can try.”

How about a new entry rather than that abominable system?

...That's the second time I've said "abominable system" today. The other time referred to the Shop Wizard. Grar.
Nothing has really been happening, so I haven't really be writing entries. On Sunday I started a blog for Mel, and I think I'll try to update that once per week, though more time than that will pass in her "world." Snuffles has come home! Yay! Cody has gotten louder. We are reading twelve books in College English. Today I worked on lace_and_gears's pet page a lot. (http://neopets.com/~lace_and_gears) The newspaper article (generated by the same place that produces that ridiculous ninja text and other annoyings on Gaia XD) and the paragraph above the marquee are what I wrote. More to come. Hey, maybe if I learn enough of that html stuff I can customize this more!
Oh yeah, and Target turned down my app. :C See if I buy Twilight Princess from you again! *snub*

Also we have been walking nearly every day. It's lovely, but this morning I was tired and had a headache. D:

More TP. Spoilers for... I don't even know. If you haven't finished the game, don't read it.
~
"Incidentally, elder sisters," Jindal said, addressing the goddesses, "which plight would that be?"
Din gave a rather sarcastic smile and replied, "I have a strange feeling that you already know which plight, Jindal."
Before Anachron could figure out what Din meant, Midna gasped suddenly in realization and turned towards him. "Wait, Anachron, did you...?"
Anachron answered with a soft smile. "Your heart was breaking for your people, Midna. I had to see if there was something I could do."
"But to ask the goddesses directly..." Midna's eyes shone with admiration and gratitude. "You didn't have to do that."
"Well, nothing else he could do would really have an effect," Din pointed out. "In any case, I would like to hear your side of the story before any decisions are made, Twilight Princess. It concerns you more than him, after all."
~
That wasn't very much, was it? More tomorrow.

Lakes are slimy. D:

Double entry to-day. Double, not really delayed, because yesterday we went to Aunt J.'s cabin at the lake (they all say the lake despite the fact that there are proverbially ten thousand of them) and did not return home 'till 'round (I don't know. I really don't know. Feeling random) ten. So there was no entry yesterday.
On the way to the lake, I drew Jindal and started to write something starring Mel. At the lake, I went innertubing (intertubing? it was a big round thing) and I believe I stayed in the tube only through sheer force of will. At one point Uncle D. intentionally made a very sharp turn to throw Z. and me off, and he only succeeded with Z. Ha! But I nearly fell out. Goodness the water was deep though. The thought of falling into water in the center of the lake, even with a life jacket on, terrified me. Hence the force of will.

To-day... what did I do in the morning? Comics, shower, Piece of Heart search, cleaned room, decided to deal with the unfortunate fact that that un-wise hero put the Master Sword back by bringing that obnoxious Skull Kid back into it, drew a card for my grandfather whose birthday party it was today, tried to avoid dealing with relatives (I'm sorry, but I'm not big with outer-family), etc. When they had gone, I took a walk and came back to find the final two Pieces of Heart, but then something really alarming happened. Fanadi is telling me that I can't reach the last P.o.H. Ridiculous! I have all items! I obtained it in Anachron! Where on earth... -mumbles-

So which do you want, the Mel thing or the revised opening to the TP fanfiction? Not that it matters asking you, since by the time you read this I have decided. In fact, by the time I wrote that I had decided. It was a very simple decision to make. You see, the new intro is already on the computer.
Spoilers, naturally.
--
Her hands trembling with eagerness, Midna delicately took the Sol and gazed into it, just as she had in the dreams she’d been having all week. Normally she didn’t really believe in dreams; however, normally she didn’t remember them either, and she remembered every last detail of these dreams, and they felt so real. Solid, almost.
And—she wanted them to be true.
Would it work? Midna held her breath in anticipation.
Just as she was about to turn away—while not as potent as the sunlight, Sol light still could be damaging if one spent too much time staring into it—when an image began to form inside the orb. Midna found herself gazing at the ruins of a once-graceful building, arches and columns and worn-away stone.
But where was…? Midna turned her head back and forth slightly, and obediently the scene shifted accordingly, allowing her to look around. He wasn’t there? But that didn’t make sense—this was his—
And then suddenly Midna recognized the place she was seeing. She groaned.
“He... he put it back!”
~
Anachron’s pleasant sleep was shattered by a scream.
Alarmed, he leapt out of bed, grabbed his sword and shield, and dashed outside. He gasped as he saw the source of the scream. It was Ilia—and she was surrounded by four of the Skull Kid’s puppets!
No time to wonder why they were here. “Ilia, duck!” Anachron shouted, and he flew at the puppets with a hasty jump strike. They halted, as if surprised, and then collapsed to the ground. Anachron sighed with relief, but he kept his sword out in case more should materialize. “Are you all right, Ilia?”
Ilia nodded, looking shaking. “Anachron, what were those things?” she asked in a small voice.
“Puppets,” Anachron replied, looking grimly at them. “They’re controlled by a Skull Kid from afar, and generally they come back until the Skull Kid is defeated. Maybe you should—”
Ilia gave a shuddering gasp. One of the puppets had gotten back up!
“Ilia, get inside my house!” Anachron commanded, leaping between her and the puppet. “I’ll take care of these!” He crouched, ready to strike the puppet if it tried to attack Ilia as she scrambled up his ladder. But it didn’t try to go after her—nor did it advance towards him. It just floated there, twitching-creaking-clicking at him expectantly.
There was something very strange going on. Usually the puppets came in groups of four, but this one’s companions had not risen… And it shouldn’t have risen in the first place… And why wasn’t it attacking him?
Experimentally, Anachron thrust his sword at the puppet—and it calmly floated backwards, away from the attack. He tried again with the same result. This didn’t make any sense. The puppets had never been intelligent enough to avoid his attacks, nor had he ever seen one retreat. Now it was cocking its head at him again, hovering near the path to the Ordon Woods as if waiting for him. Holding his sword at the ready, Anachron cautiously walked towards the puppet; it floated away from him at a pace that matched his own.
It wanted him to follow it.
He could ignore it, of course, but there was a chance that the Skull Kid would send more puppets after Ilia or someone else in the village. And it had never caused him real harm before, only irritation. So with a feeling of resignation, Anachron followed the puppet.

Lack of motivation.

First of all, Cheese, if you're reading this, I really really appreciated your return call and I'm so sorry I missed it. D: Stupid pieces of heart! I should have at least thought to bring my phone downstairs.

Anyway. Today I was most thoroughly lacking in motivation. I mean it. It was bad.
Went for a short walk with Mom&Dad&Cody in the morning, but then Mom's shoe threatened to give her a blister and hold her hostage (but mostly the blister), so we went home. Then I... spent the rest of the day re-reading the Xanth books I own. The first two. Then I took a shower. Then I tried to find something to make myself feel better for wasting my whole day, came online, found no one, called Cheese, and then missed her return call because I didn't think to bring my phone down on my quest for Pieces of Heart for BLAH. I am missing five, now... they are... Let's think... One still in Lakebed Temple. One in the Goron Mines. ...But I guess that's all I remember. Pity. Oh wait... one in the ranch, I think, and THAT's all I can remember.

At least, I really hope it was the lack of motivation that was depressing me earlier. Otherwise it was Twilight Princess withdrawal. That would be really bad.
I am now going to attempt to draw human-form Jindal.
*is yelled at*
ALL RIGHT, all right. After I think about the gun thing from Kino.
But I feel silly. In half of the stories, it's only one or two sentences long. I've been blowing it out of proportion the whole time, just because I've foolishly only been looking at the first chapter. Of course it would be longer there! All I need to write is:

She did her habitual cleaning and practice with her Persuaders, and then she had a light breakfast.

And then adjust the following sentence.

Okay. NOW I'm going to draw Jindal. If I can figure out a pose for him.

Taxidermy.

There is a point to that title, but I don't think I'll explain it just yet.

Today, pretty much the first thing I did was go for a long, long walk with Mother and Father and Cody. It was lovely. I listened to Fair to Midland the whole time and held Cody's leash for part of the time. At one point he went on a path that was not actually a path. I didn't really appreciate that.

Other than that, when C&T and K., who is visiting us, all finally woke up, I went downstairs and beat Ganondorf on BLAH. Later I gathered the last five heart pieces on Anachron. He has two full heart bars now! Hurray. The only thing really remaining is fishing. I have no interest in going fishing. So I suppose that'll be a reference file.

I watched two episodes of Haibane Renmei without subtitles today. Decent comprehension, though judging by my failed attempt to then watch Bleach without subtitles, I'd say that that was mostly grounded in the knowledge of what was going on. Oh well.

Oh, and I went to Barnes and Noble. I was hoping to find the new FMA and Furuba, as well as D.Gray-Man 6 in Japanese for Zac (since I bought it in Japanese for myself), but all they had was D.GM 6. So I wandered over to the children's section. (Oh yes, WOI is SOOOOO mature.) Therein there was a book called Skulduggery Pleasant. Now first of all, the word skulduggery is tied with anachronism (and related words) for "WOI's FAVORITE WORD IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE!!!!", so of course I had to look. It's about a skeleton-detective-mage-besutodoressaa named Skulduggery Pleasant and a girl named Stephanie who have to defeat evil things called Faceless Ones. Sounded like dark humor. Therefore, it sounded like my kind of book. Unfortunately it was in hardcover and I'm trying to cut back on impulse buys, at least until I get a job again.
Also I saw a book called Vampirates: Demons of the Seas. This made me sad. I had to leave the row, shaking my head to clear the horrible thought. How foolish...

There is something I may try to write involving an inheritance scramble and the four children of a billionaire widow. Perhaps.


Other than that, guess what?
Twilight Princess spoilers.

Regarding Jindal, I forgot to mention last night that one of the main reasons I'm allowing myself to go so far in developing this OC is that his characterization is actually coming. I'm not very good at coming up with characters. I'm just not. It's the sad and pitiful truth. But Jindal is going wonderfully so embrace it as practice, I suppose.

Would you like to see this narration, then?
I've actually decided that it may make its way into that fic. Maybe.
I'll write it normally for you. In my notebook, I decided to write it starting from the bottom line and working up. (Did I mention that?) Yes, I know I'm insane.
--
With effort, I can recall that time. Only with effort, though; the goddesses willed that we woudl remember little of the circumstances that brought us here, with few specifics and absolutely no recollection of how to perform our fateful magic. Most thoroughly did they impress the shame of failure upon our minds, however, along with their lesson about the dangers of ambition and hubris. Ingenious of them, if insensitive.
But far be it from me to criticize the goddesses.
What I can remember, I will tell you.
We were not a peaceful tribe and we made no effort to be so. We were ambitious to the point of being cold-hearted. We desired the power housed in the Sacred Realm so we spent years, almost a decade, honing our magic. Finally the day came; every person in the tribe, save only the youngest children, applied his or her own magical energy to the effort. I can't say what the magic was supposed to do, of course, but I remember that we all knew immediately that we had incurred the goddesses' wrath. A wrenching pain in our bodies shattered our concentration and brought many to their knees. Then came the feeling that parts of our minds were being ripped away. Later we would realize that this feeling equated to the death of our king and queen, whom we had been supplying our energy to so that they could trespass in the Sacred Realm.
Our king and queen--my parents.
When consciousness could again conquer pain, we found ourselves bathed in an eerie, dim glow. Still stunned, we could only sit up and stare around us in an attempt to figure out what had happened to us. With absurd clarity, I remember thinking that the sky looked strange.
It shames me to say that I, the prince of our people, was not among the first to rise and try to discover where we were, instead electing to lounge pathetically on the ground. I only stood when one of those courageous men ran back to me, saying something about the king and queen. I followed the man for some distance, and I saw my mother and father.
As the ones who had actually trespassed in the Sacred Realm, their punishment was severe. Their bodies were mangled, burnt black, almost beyond recognition.
And they glowed with a strange light, greenish, more intense than the one from the black-clouded sky.
I fell to my knees beside them (quite an impressive picture I'm painting of myself, isn't it?) and--to my shock--my parents slowly floated several feet off the gorund and hovered there! As I watched, the light emanating from their bodies grew brighter, brighter, too bright; I lookeod away. Then suddenly there was a rushing noise, and I looked back to my mother and father--but they were gone, and in their places floated two orbs of light. I stared in awe.
Curiously, the light from these orbs refreshed and strengthened me.
By now you have figured out, of course, that these were the Sols, our version of the sun, which give energy to the world we now call Twilight. Very few of my people know of the origin of the Sols. It would be best that you did not tell the Princess.
--
&And there's more to that, but it's not actually written yet.

Not delayed!

That's right! WOI is writing a journal entry on time! It's shocking.

Today, I had an orthodontist appointment at which I was supposed to be told that I may wear my retainer only at night from now on. Instead I was told that I should keep wearing it all the time and come back in December. Drat.

Beyond that, I've spent a lot of time today working on that narration thing I mentioned. Want some explanation? I'll give it a little bit down, but first I'd better describe the rest of my day because it'll contain Twilight Princess spoilers, probably. Yes. Definitely.

This evening I went to an orientation at SCSU for the PSEO program. Post-Secondary Enrollment Opportunity tte ne. Basically it's a way to take more challenging classes through a college while still in high school. For me, of course, it means Japanese. Though in this situation the phrase "more challenging" might be misleading. (苦笑い/bitter laugh) It'll be 201--most likely the first half of Genki II... In other words, stuff I already know. Again. You know, all that stuff I took the final on in CA. And finished first. Despite the fact that I hadn't been in that class for months. This is insanely frustrating... I mean, seriously. I've already done one of those "senior project" things. LABB. Granted, I'm sure that that needs a lot of work--if I did it again, I'd probably find a lot of things that I got wrong--but I mean geez.
Well, it's not like SCSU offers a class on keigo. Or a conversation class. Gosh, I'd love to be in a conversation class... Well no. Let me rephrase that. It would be so thoroughly beneficial for me to be in a conversation class. Most likely I would not love it and it would make me asplode with nervousness.

Goodness, that was longer than expected.

Here start TP spoilers, as well as a ridiculous and バカッテ amount of speculation and--GASP!--an OC. I know. This is ridiculously out of character from me, and possibly a little hypocritical... I mean, I hate OCs! I bash them! Especially that Shiori girl! [now the spoilers really start]

But this OC... he was developed along the same cheating lines that "Dead Future," my massively angsty if-Isis-had-won-against-Seto fic, was based along. Jindal, whom I mentioned yesterday, is the name of this OC, and he is the main god--or should I say "guardian deity"?--of Twilight as created by me. I gave myself rein to create Jindal because--well, first of all, he will be needed in my other fanfiction, and second of all because Midna said that the Twili had different gods. Guardian deities, to be exact. So, they must exist. So I may as well design one as long as he fits and is reasonable. (About the "-ies" part--I've got another called Dawdon in mind. Was going to be Dawdin originally but decided to avoid the Din dealybob.)

And I've been doing my best to make Jindal fit reasonably. It was shocking yesterday, because it appears that I had subconscious memory of the line, "Did you think we'd forgotten that our ancestors lost their king to that greed?" (Probably paraphrased, but quoted to the best of my memory.) I had already planned to kill off Jindal's dad decided that the king of the-tribe-that-became-the-Twili probably died because he led the storm into the Sacred Realm, and then it appears that that is most likely what really happened... odd.

An overview: Jindal was the (fully mortal) prince of the tribe skilled in magic, those who trespassed into the Sacred Realm. Upon his parents' death and his tribe's abrupt relocation to the Realm of Twilight, he became the boy king. Though he was initially inexperienced and uncertain, he became a noble and well-liked king, and he ruled for many years. Upon his death, Twilight went into deep mourning, and some Twili came forward believing that Jindal had spoken to them in dreams and such, as a god. At this point, it was not actually Jindal speaking to them, but their own subconscious wish to see their king again. However, it soon became legend that Jindal had become the god of Twilight, and this legend reached the goddesses' ears. Still caring for their fallen children, the goddesses revived Jindal and indeed gave him the powers of a god, to preside over the Twilight as they presided over Hyrule and the world of light.

That was a strange writing style, wasn't it?
I thought I might type up what I have of his narration so far, but no matter how optimistically I estimate, it doesn't look like I'll have enough time to type that up. (Quit it!) Good night.

They're taking the hobbits to Isengard! D:

Delayed again.

Have not done much over the past few days. Well, Saturday we went to visit my grandparents, Dad's side, and on Sunday we went to visit Dad's sister before picking C&T up from the airport, but it's not like I actually really did anything with any of those things, so...
Can't figure out how to start the next section of my fanfiction, so that kind of sat on hold for a bit. Yesterday I decided to just skip the beginning and go straight to the conversation where the real plot starts. Unnnnnfortunately I'm running into awkward phrasing and my replay of the Palace of Twilight informed me that Midna doesn't really mind, thanks. The question then becomes whether or not Zant was right when he said that the people regressed. They can still be pure and gentle, but wouldn't it be better if they were smart too? (Or does that make it totally impossible?)
Perspective is everything, and as much as I'm all saying that Jindal supports him I would really prefer not to take Zant's perspective.

In any case, I'm taking a slight break on that and writing Jindal's narration on how exactly they got there, and it's very nice because I can just say that the goddesses addled their memories a little bit if I can't figure something out, for example how one would even begin trying to access the Sacred Realm. Ingenious, if insensitive. Got it memorized?


...Because most of that (okay, all of it) was nonsense, have a youtube video.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Tin6NJqQQsM

Voicing a voiceless character makes my head spin.

Yesterday I went to see The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged). It was quite funny. We got home at 10:30. That is why there was no journal entry yesterday.

Today, again, I spent much of my time working on the TP fanfiction. I think I mentioned--though maybe I didn't--that it decided to expand without my permission. Not that that really matters, a I am still making my way through the first section. It is very difficult to make a conversation sound natural when you are equally concerned with including a set number of ideas. Oh! And geez! It's so hard to get a characterization set for Anachron. Link doesn't speak! Ever! I read today that he said two lines in a game once. This was a very old game. They stopped that.
(Incidentally, the wikipedia article poo-pooed the fact that Link spoke in a manga adaptation or something. This is ridiculous. Obviously Link speaks--we simply aren't told what he says. Otherwise no one would ever know his name.)

Oh, by the way, this contains funnies: http://www.rinkworks.com/said/
I was there because the site also had a fantasy name generator, which I needed desperately for the god of the Twilight that I'm going to need later, except that I'm pretty sure Midna said godS, so that's an issue. In any case creating one and developing characterization for three is enough of a headache. They get one god.


So, I'll let you read some more of my fanfic. Yes, it contains spoilers.
Resuming where I left off--
--
Of course he couldn't imagine this Midna rolling her eyes; he was remarkably unadjusted to this version of her, to the point that seeing her was still a shock. The contours of her face were severe and her eyes almost unbearabling discerning. But despite those disconcerting qualities--because of them?--this Midna had an inhuman beauty that stole Anachron's breath every time. All he could do for a few moments was stare in wonder, and when he found his voice again, he could only stutter, "M-Midna... How in the world..."
"Which world?" she asked teasingly.
"Either," Anachron replied, too mystified to take part in the joke. "Yours or mine. Midna, this is incredible..."
Though the image was tiny, limited by the dimensions of the Master Sword, somehow it wrapped around Anachron's mind like a vision, and Anachron felt as if he were standing near Midna having a normal conversation, rather than staring into a sword.
"Isn't it amazing?" Midna nodded. "I never would have imagined that a Sol could do this... But the god of Twilight whispered hints to me in a dream... It's twilight there, isn't it?"
Anachron nodded.
"That's the only time this'll work... which means we don't have a lot of time left tonight." She raised her eyebrows pointedly. "Was it really that hard to figure out?"
"I didn't know what I was looking for," Anachron defended himself. "I thought that maybe--"
"That maybe I was there?" Midna asked shrewdly. She shook her head. "That's impossible. With the Mirror of Twilight broken, there shouldn't be any possibility of contact between my world and yours. This is highly irregular--What?"
The remnants of Anachron's bitterness had surfaced when Midna mentioned the Mirror, and it must have shown on his face.
"You knew all that, of course, when you broke the Mirror," he said evenly.
"Naturally," Midna answered, obviously not sure what Anachron was getting at. "That was the point. Light and Shadow aren't supposed to--"
"So when you said, 'See you later'?"
He saw her comprehend, saw her expression shift.
"We see each other right now, don't we?" she asked evasively.
"You had no idea we could do this. You just said that, Midna."
Finally, for the first time in Anachron's experience, Midna had no response ready.
Bitterness laced through Anachron's voice. "You only said that to deceive me."
Midna sighed. "Yes," she admitted. "I did. I didn't want you to to realize what I was doing." She looked dejectedly at Anachron. "You're angry at me."
"Your parting words to me--your last words to me, as we both thought--were a lie, Midna! What did you expect?"
"I expected it not to matter." Midna looked away from him. "I never expected anything like this to happen, Anachron, and I couldn't have interference. If I hadn't broken the Mirror, the conection would have brought chaos to both worlds. It was the only way."
"You could have said that," Anachron protested. "If you'd said as much, if you'd explained rather than misleading me, I would have accepted it with--less trouble, at least. But I can't help but resent that you tried to fool me!"
"You weren't the only one I had to fool, Anachron!" She turned towards hims suddenly, her eyes flashing.
Anachron didn't understand. "Then who--Princess Zelda?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Why should it matter to her?"
"Then..." There was only one possibility left, but it didn't make any sense. "You had to fool yourself?"
"Yes. I did." The fire seeped out of Midna's eyes and she gave a weak, unconvincing chuckle. "What? Did you think the Mirror could only be shattered by my tears?"
--
That's a good stopping point. I've got a bit more written but I haven't finished off the night yet. Also it's nearly 10:30 here. Good night.

Contains: dreams; LoZ:TP spoilers&sap

(This is 7/27 entry #2. See below for explanation.) I almost forgot--I had really odd dreams last night.
One of them was vaguely based on that Halloween movie, Hocus-Pocus (great movie. xD). At least, there were three witches who wanted to kill people to remain young. But they were at my house. Which was unfortunate. Oh, and it wasn't Halloween. It was quite creepy, but then the movie ended with them dying because there were these orbs--I called them paintballs, but I've never... seen a paintball, so I don't know where I got that from--crazy dream logic--and those "paintballs" contained their souls, and at 9:00 A.M. light shone on them and made the witches explode. And then, I think, we went shopping.
Yeah. That was weird.
The other dream that I remember was much nicer. I dreamt that when the N.'s came back to get J.-the-younger's hat, they stayed for like, another day. That was lovely. But my brain was a little screwed up... In my dream, they "stayed till Sunday"... that was Sunday. Oh well. It was nice. And then a whole bunch of people from California showed up. It was a very odd dream, all in all. But odd in a very nice way.
--TWILIGHT PRINCESS SPOILERS START HERE--





Okay. So here's the fanfiction.
It takes a few months after the end of the game (totally wanted to say "series" there. oO)
It grows out of my frustration with Midna at the end of the game, since I could totally tell that Midna and Link or Anachron or whatever liked each other by the end of the game. (She's hanging off his shoulder like that one Celebrity Date on Gaia! The glitzy one!) And then she's just like "See you later... but not really." (She doesn't actually say "but not really." She just acts that way.) And besides, I think Link--and if not Link, at least Anachron!--is rather irritated with her whole attitude there. But hopefully that will come in later.
Babbling aside.
Here we go. Oh, and I say Anachron because I have a sneaky suspicion that this is quite バカッテ。(If you're really interested, that's a word that combines the Japanese word for "stupid" with that for "selfish." It's a lovely word to use to degrade my less canon-based fanfition. I made it up. It is precious to me.)
--

Anachron sat, his feet dangling over the ladder to his loft, and watched as the light from the window gradually turned the white pages of his book a dirty yellow. Dusk had come--twilight.
For a few days after everything had ended, twilight had been a hopeful time for him. Rusl had once said that then and only then could spirits who had left this world contact the people here. Anachron had believed that--or wanted to believe that--for a short time, and he'd waited and watched for some sort of sign.
But it was a fairy tale, and it hardly suited the chosen hero to believe such a thing. So twilight had instead become a time of resentment for him.
Not that he missed the dim, dirty light of Twilight over Hyrule, or the grit of unholy insects between his beast jaws, or the feeling that everything--scenery and souls alike--was slowing disintigrating. There was only thing he missed about Twilight; that was its Princess, and the feeling did not come without bitterness.
Anachron closed the book and dropped down a level to put it back on his shelf. It had been difficult, ever since he'd returned to Ordon Village, for him to focus on any one thing for long. Feeling duty-bound, he'd gone back to helping [needtocheckthisguy'sname] at the ranch, but herding goats was laughably tame compared to outriding Bulbins.
Not that he had any real desire to go adventuring again. Once or twice, he'd thought about taking Epona and visiting the people he'd met on his journey, but he could never work up the motivation. The Master Sword lay, unused, by his bed. It was as if saving the world had bled dry his life's supply of excitement. Anachron wondered if it were possible for apathy to drive a man mad.
"H--Hello? Anachron?"
Aha. Apparently it was possible, because he'd just thought he heard Midna's voice.
Of course, he woudl only be truly mad if he answered.
"Anachron?--Isn't this working?--Anachron, can you hear me?"
"Yeah."
It popped out of him instinctively.
Oh, well. If he was mad, he was mad, and at least it was a pleasant sort of madness.
"I can hear you Midna, but where...?" Out of habit, he turned his head, as if he were in wolf form and she were on his back.
"Where's my voice coming from?" Midna's voice finished his question. "Not the inside of your head, if that's what you're wondering. Other than that, I think I'll let you figure it out." And she gave a giggle that Anachron recognized very well.
That was the real Midna, all right.
Anachron scanned his home, peering carefully into the shadows cast by the dying light. He checked his own shadow. He climbed up to look out the window.
He didn't see Midna anywhere.
"It's very dark in here," Midna said in a voice that suggested that her words were a hint.
So Anachron checked his cupboards and his chests. He grabbed a lantern and swung it around in his cellar. Still no sign of Midna.
Finally Midna gave a sigh. Anachron could imagine her--the impish her, that is, not the graceful being he'd seen after Ganondorf's defeat--rolling her eyes. "Think, Anachron," she instructed. "What do you own that might possibly be connected to the Twilight Realm?"
...Was she talking about the Master Sword? Nonplussed, Anachron looked toward the sword; he saw nothing unusual about it. But it was sheathed--could that be why she'd said it was "dark in here"?
Anachron reached for the sword and unsheathed it, and what he saw made him blink in amazement.
First of all, the blade was glittering as it did in the Twilight Realm. This should have been bizarre enough in itself, but it was nothing compared to what Anachron saw in the blade.
Where he should have seen his reflection, he saw an image--the image of a room made of stones and laced with gleaming lines of aquamarine--so obviously a room from the Twilight Realm--and sitting in that room, smiling at him--
"Hello, Anachron."
--was Midna.

There is a problem.

The problem is that this is my fifty-eighth journal entry. For that reason I think I shall split this entry into two. I apologize for the fact that that's probably a little obnoxious.

However, today I fixed a problem! The problem had to do with my desire to write a Twilight Princess fanfiction. I will now be able to write that fanfiction! It's not what I had originally planned, but that's okay because what I had originally planned was pretty nonsensical. This is a bit more sane. I think. Maybe. If you squint hard enough.

I spent a lot of time thinking about and planning that today. Oh, and I also read Count Karlstein. Not sure on the spelling there, but I'm too lazy to go check.

To flesh out this entry, have some freaking amazing music.
It's from the battle with the king--the guy who calls himself the king of Twilight. So, obviously, it contains spoilers for late in the Twilight Princess game, but if you minimize it you don't even have to see what's going on. The music is amazing.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=tOf0LHzeq9Q
Enjoy. That little bit at the beginning isn't as much fun, so try to start at about :25. And then at around 5:50 it goes into a cutscene, so you don't have to listen to that either. It's just the battle that's amazing.
Also that's the Wii version, so it's all backwards. Pssh.

Entry the fifty-ninth will be what I have of the fanfiction so far. It will contain spoilers for the entire game. I don't know why I'm saying this here, because it'll be above this... hmm... maybe I'll switch the two around... No... this is fine.
(I babble.)

Help! Help! I'm bein' repressed!

I did finish the puzzle last night! Not a single piece missing. =^_^=

We're watching Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail at the moment. The Black Knight is on screen at this very moment.

This morning I got up, wrote a bit, and walked Cody. Upon returning, I found that my sisters had woken up! Therefore I could go play Twilight Princess! I beat the first dungeon and am currently being knocked unconscious by purple fog. Repeatedly.

I then had brautwurst for lunch with my whole family and soonafter left for my brother's soccer game. We brought Cody. Z scored once and assisted once as well.

Pardon while I switch computers real quick, 'cause the connection wasn't working this morning and I had to type the fanfiction in a kids' only file...
It's incomplete for the moment. I may work on it tomorrow, if I can. But I have Cody duty all day. All day meaning six in the morning to ten at night. No joke.
I made up Jazz and Pandore. Jazz is actually in something else I've written, but I haven't published that anywhere.
---
“He’s trying to kill L!”

The Wammy’s House cafeteria fell instantly silent at those words. All eyes swiveled to the speaker—or rather, the shouter. It was Jazz, her face red with apparent furor and her dark eyes flashing.

Sitting across from her, Pandore cast a shamefaced glance around the cafeteria. “Did you have to get everyone’s attention?” she asked quietly. The question carried in the silence.

“You’ve betrayed all of them, too,” Jazz retorted coldly. “Why shouldn’t they hear?”

“I’ve betrayed no one,” Pandore responded, clearly trying to keep her cool. “I’m allowed to believe and feel what I like. I think he’s right in a lot of what he’s trying to--”

“Kira is trying to kill L!” Jazz thundered, and the rest of the cafeteria drew a collective breath.

Did Pandore support Kira?

“Obviously, I don’t approve of that, but—” Pandore tried one last time to defend herself, but then she looked around the cafeteria. There was hostility in every stare.

Of course there would be.

She dropped her head, defeated. “Forget it,” she muttered. “Forget it.” So saying, she dumped her lunch tray and left the room.

The next day, she was gone.

Mello and Near were summoned to meet with L.

Over a plate of gingerbread cookies, he spoke to them about the Kira case, asked them for opinions. Such questions were, as always, merely a test of reasoning skill and instinct. L rarely needed help forming opinions.

Then, over the last gingerbread cookie (L had eaten them all: limbs, then body, then head), L said, “You two were in the lunch room yesterday, so presumably you know the reason for Pandore’s sudden departure.”

“She sympathized with Kira?” Mello asked for confirmation.

L thought for a moment. “Hmm… I’m not certain she would sanction that choice of words,” he said. “It is more correct to say that she could not find a part of herself that believed what Kira was doing was wrong.”

It's hot here.

Sorry for not writing yesterday. I was... *thinks* oh! Reading Order of the Phoenix. Yup.
Yesterday I did lots more role-playing, and I... Oh, right, in the morning I actually typed up some stuff for when I make Gateaux de Lacet into a role-play. Which will be maybe in a year or something. Ahaha.
I'm sure I did more than that yesterday, but I don't remember what.

Today I played with Cody and read OotP in the morning. In fact I spent almost all day reading Harry Potter. Then I felt angsty once I finished Half-Blood Prince so I wrote something angsty. You want? It's a Death Note fanfiction. With spoilers for page.99. Severe spoilers. Extreme angst. All that good stuff. Will probably not be published anywhere because I'm doubting the characterization, but it was fun to write. So there.
--

Halle felt very strange.

She was lying wrong-way on her bed, staring glassily up at the ceiling with her feet among her pillows and her hands dangling listlessly off the foot of the bed. She didn’t see the ceiling; she saw Mello’s face, still visible through the sheen on his motorcycle helmet. Stupid, stupid… Oh, God, Mello, what were you thinking…

She felt as if a thin layer of glass had taken the place of her skin; she felt smooth and emotionless on the outside, yes, but surely everyone could see straight to her core, could witness the two demon-like personas battling in her chest?

The glass, she reasoned, must have been terribly heavy, because she was quite sure it was the only thing keeping her from springing out of bed and throwing everything she could lift. Hatred clawed at the inside of her ribcage, leaving grazes that burned when she breathed and would certainly be alleviated if she would only show an outward sign of their existence. She hated Takada, Kira, Near—everything and everyone. No thought could scuttle through her head without arousing more hatred, but that was all right because some of the glass seemed to have closed off her brain, letting no thoughts in anyway.

That, however, didn’t keep out the laughter.

Cold, sarcastic, mocking laughter lay in her throat like some unholy sludge, bubbling and oozing of its own accord and threatening to squeeze its way out of the glass. It was directed at herself; it was his laughter. Mello’s. You should have known laughter. You should have listened.

He’d warned her.

He’d said, in no uncertain terms, that if she trusted him he would use her, but she had shrugged that off, assuming it was merely a brazen attempt to appear dominant of the situation—and part of her, admittedly, hoping that he would care enough not to treat her as a tool. Hahaha. Stupid. She had been part of his not-careful-enough plan; he had played her trust to get Takada and then gone riding off to his death. And she had trusted him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She felt that someone ought to be having a good laugh at her idiocy and since there was no one around to do so, it festered in her own throat.

And there it remained; nor did she show any sign of the furious hatred she felt. The glass kept her motionless, apparently serene. With a toneless sigh, she rolled over onto her stomach and put her face in her hands.

“Dammit, Mello…”

--

Okay, so...

I had every intention of writing this morning, really I did. But then I was really tired AND I could not find which file the fanfiction I wanted to work on was in. Finally I found it, but by then I didn't feel like writing. -Siiigh- Oh, and I went on the DN movie site to see if they had any information on that upcoming L movie... they kind of did, but not really. I said this into my OMN file:

They are now talking about the L movie but not revealing a thing about it. “You will understand the mystery of ‘L’”… Similar to the novel’s byline, ne? >> << style=""> Because honestly I don’t believe that they look that similar. I just think Mello was screwing with our minds. If the behavior was training, especially, then I think he just looks completely different.
AND BESIDES.
KEN’ICHI ALREADY BITES HIS THUMBNAIL. (If they switch that I shall never forgive them. XD)

Of course, I'm not in the habit of forgiving the movie people anyway...

Other than that, I neglected to eat breakfast, worked on my puzzle, played DDR, played with Cody, did more puzzle, went to the park with Cody, did MORE puzzle, and danced. Cody has learned to dig. This is bad.

So ya want writing, huh? Do ya do ya?

Well, here.

Part of this was already written--it's what I went looking for this morning--and part of it will be new. Warnings for swearing + possible DN spoilers. And it's not writing Near after all.

--

Near came down from the attic, hand shaking on the banister, to find Mello at the bottom of the stairs. The blonde-haired boy watched was watching his descent with a wide-eyed stare that would have made anyone else uncomfortable. But Near simply stared back and waited for Mello to speak first.
“You met L.” Of course; that was the only conclusion. They weren’t allowed in the attic otherwise. Most of the orphans didn’t even know the reason for that ban. But Mello did, and now Near did as well.
Near nodded in response to Mello’s statement, a soft smile on his face and a rare delight sparkling in his eyes. He was still having a hard time believing it. He’d met L. He might get to be L’s successor…

Mello was decidedly less excited. With a great effort to keep his voice calm, he asked, “What did he say to you?”

Damn. His voice trembled anyway.

Near looked calmly at him, pretending not to hear the tremor in his voice. “It doesn’t matter to you.”

That attitude of his. Mello was finding it harder and harder to keep his self-control. “It matters to me more than anything else in the world,” he said through tightly gritted teeth, his whole body tensed. “Tell me what he said.”

Near realized the reason for Mello’s anger, and he intended to avoid making it any worse, if possible. “Let it go, Mello,” he encouraged, walking past him. “Hearing what he told me won’t make you feel any better.”

“You bastard!” And suddenly Mello tackled Near from behind, all self-control abandoned. “He wants you to be his successor, doesn’t he?” he demanded, punching at the white-haired boy with both fists.

Near deflected every single one of the blows, but Mello kept trying anyway, attacking until he was pried off the boy.

“I’d like you to stop that now, Mello,” said the voice of Near’s protector. L. The detective held Mello’s wrist tightly as Near got up from the floor. “Would you mind telling me why you seem so intent upon beating up your fellow student?”

He knew the answer already. He had to. Near realized this, and he simply stared at the detective.

Mello didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to look at L right now. Anger and shame and bitterness twisted in his stomach and brought him almost to tears.

“Mello, I asked you a question.” L’s voice was serious. “Look at me and answer.”

But he couldn’t, and he didn’t think he could hold back tears any longer. He twisted out of L’s grip and ran to his own room, slamming the door behind him.

L sighed and looked at Near. “Are you all right, Near?”

“I’ll be fine,” the boy replied, gingerly touching his right cheek—Mello’s first blow, the only one that had hit.

“I apologize. Perhaps I should have informed Mello beforehand.”

Near shook his head. “Then I simply wouldn’t have known why he was attacking me.” Mello would have been angry all the same; his feeling of betrayal was inevitable.

“I’ll go speak to him, then,” L said with a polite nod to Near.
(New starts here)
--
Mello heard his door open and stiffened. The word pathetic shot through his head. It was L--it had to be--and here Mello was with his face in a pillow.
"Mello, you will apologize to Near later," said L's voice.
Mello didn't take his face out of the pillow, didn't say anything. His shoulders were hunched defiantly.
"Mello, look at me and tell me that you will apologize."
With effort, Mello sat up and looked at the detective. L watched the boy's face twist in bitterness. He could tell that Mello was trying to "correct" what he was feeling--but he doubted the boy would succeed.
Sure enough, rather than promising an apology, Mello burst out with, "What's wrong with me?"
--
...Okay, I'm sorry. I'm not feeling that. D: It seems pointless. I'm writing something else right now, but I can't post it.

I speak nonsense fluently.

So 今日はね。(About today.)

When I woke up, I went through one of my incomplete-fanfiction-storing file, weeding a bit and looking at things that weren't finished. That inspired me to finally finish "An American Family," a fanfiction regarding normal people (gasp!) in Death Note. You can have a piece.
That's what I did first period--finished AF. Then I was going to work on the translation-needed parts of Kino, but I forgot that the school's proxy blocks WWWJDIC. HATRED. That made me quite unhappy. So I read Alice Through the Looking Glass.

Second period was the physics final. It was easy and boring.

Third was impromptu speeches. I didn't have to go today, but I timed a whole bunch.

Fourth was the Comp Oedipus timed essay. It went pretty well.

Right now I am listening to dj Tsar 404. I love that guy. Here's his purevolume: http://www.purevolume.com/djtsar404 and here's his official site: http://www.djtsar404.com/ The official site is new, so there's not a whole lot on it yet, but he's amazing.

Other than that... American Family.
You get the youngest boy, because that's what I wrote today.
--

This is an American family, and they are watching the vice president's announcement on television.

The youngest of the family is a mere seven years old.

The vice president's announcement doesn't mean much to him. At his tender age, he does not have any real opinion on Kira, hostile, idealistic, or otherwise. To him, Kira is simply there. Kira has always been there—for as long as this little boy can remember.

Kira made his first appearance in the world when this boy was two, and Kira has been a constant topic ever since. He plays "Kira and L" with the other boys at school; sometimes he's Kira, and sometimes he's L. And sometimes he hams it up as one of Kira's ill-fated victims. It doesn't matter. It's just like a war game; boys will be boys.

And Kira will always be there.

Hoist the colors high!

That's right, I saw Pirates today.

But allow me to start from the beginning.
I woke up at 5:45 as per always and then fell back asleep for about a half-hour. Then I managed to get myself out of bed to finish up the Kino fic. Except for, of course, the descriptions and the guns. Will probably translate the patterns for those tomorrow during first period.
Sono ato... Cleaned my room a bit. Then gave up on that, read some of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, lazed around. Worked on the paper I have to do for Comp. Read some more. Then we went to see Pirates.
Oh! And I dressed up. I wore my... ummmm... that one skirt. With the grommets. whichsomepeoplecallabondageskirtaaaaahT_Tnotmyfault And that lacy black top that I can't wear to school. And my black/white striped tights. And a bandana. And lots of eyeliner. Twas fun.


Did my writing duty. You'll get to meet Koshakk soon, I promise.