Its fuckin WIMDY
What if you could find the Divine Beasts in the Depths?
You’re in this dark, alien environment, strange noises echoing around you, the inescapable anxiety your only companion. Squinting in the distance, you see a frighteningly familiar shade of blue flicker, faint in the distance.
Cautiously moving forward, you begin to realise the blue belongs to something much, much larger than a possible guardian. Eventually, an ancient behemoth looms overhead, still, silent, and empty, both at rest and unnervingly calm. A strange, restless melancholy replaces the sense of creeping dread, no less uneasy than before.
Entering the resting stone, in the corner of your eyes, you see movement flicker. At first you think a spirit, perhaps the Champions still linger… but deep down you know they’ve passed on… right?
Echoing footsteps fill the silence as you press on, avoiding gloom where there had once been malice, a desecration of a sacred resting place. You see the flicker again, turn on your foot and see for a split second, a beloved friend, an uneasy rival, a stalwart protector, a steadfast leader, an ally, a painful reminder of your worst failure. Even now, years later, it stings.
You try to get their attention, but there is no response. Instead, you watch. And realise. And mourn again. There are no spirits here. Not in the vast, decaying depths, not in the final resting places of a final hope.
These are echoes of the ones you knew. You can see them in the corner of your eyes sometimes, going about preparations for that ill-fated battle. It’s eerie, made no better by the Grand Poes gently swaying, their locations random but making uncomfortable sense.
Sometimes, on unlucky days, it is not preparations that these echoes go through. Pain torn screams faintly heard as their final moments are played out, a play on an eerie stage.
Vah Medoh groans in the dark, as the image of her pilot slams limply on her back, wing torn, and struggles to get up, defiance in his glare even now.
Vah Ruta cries a warning, as her pilot slumps over the controls, never seeing her killer, her last thought to warn the others.
Vah Rudania braces herself, as the echo of her pilot does the same, but the shield shatters, a flash of phantom heat coating the area, followed by darkness.
Vah Nabooris strides steady, until her pilot, fatigued from a relentless assualt, makes one fatal misstep in her final dance, lightning crackling in the air.
The stone beasts are restless, aware of the new threat, and unable to let go of the last pilots they’ll ever have, desperately trying to fight once more. But instead, they lay still, silent, a monument to their pilots lost to time.
What if you could find the Divine Beasts in the Depths?
fuck off, terfs, nothing on this blog is for you, and it never will be.
fuck off, terfs, nothing
on this blog is for you, and
it never will be.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
wish i had a bit going where whenever i said "the prophecy" like three of my friends would repeat "the prophecy" in different tones while squinting into the distance and rubbing their chins like sages deep in thought. i would also do this for them, im a team player
okay, so, be me, 27 years old at the time, an adult by any definition in the world
be me at the los angeles zoo, one of my very favorite places in the world, because i love animals. i am immedietly 8 years old when presented with a little creature. i can’t help it.
okay, wait, go back. we must establish two things for this to hit right
first:
the year before, i’d gone to the san diego zoo with my aunt and grandma and! they let you feed giraffes there!!
how wonderful a world and how wonderful a life, where for $10 I can hand feed a giant creature three crispy biscuits. i go “i am feeding the giraffes right now” and go in line to buy the biscuits and return moments later triumphant, 3 biscuits in my grasp
“oh good!” my grandmother says, “one for each of us!”
“yes,” i say, despondent, “one for each of us.”
i wanted to feed all three to the giraffes myself but since i am an actual adult and not a child i do not say this and share the biscuits
second:
my friend group echoes. a lot
someone tells a story and ends it with “and that’s what happened!” and the rest of us will repeat “and that’s what happened!”
often in unison. and it’s constant, all the time, even to little stuff. often said in the tone of “they don’t even have dental”
ok, so we’re back at the los angeles zoo. they have opened the giraffe feeding
i am not going to be thwarted again
my two friends (K and M) get in line to feed them and i go to buy the biscuits. i return with nine biscuits because i am going to give the giraffes three biscuits myself and i do not want to hear a word of protest. i am being fair. i am being equitable. i am sharing. no one can judge me
“wow!” says K. “that’s a lot of biscuits!”
“the cult provides,” i say generously, handing over their share, because what is a friend group if not a small cult
and then, automatically, in unison, like they have so many times before and thinking nothing of what exactly they’re saying, M and K reply, “the cult provides”
two different people in line turn to stare at us while we all blink at each other and then M nervously shouts, “we are definitely not in a cult!” which sounds like something someone who is in a cult might say
and ever since it’s been a running bit where one person says “the cult ____” and everyone echoes it as seriously as possible, no matter where we are or who we’re around
which is to say, OP, that you could be living the dream if your friends weren’t cowards
Transcript: Yesterday my cousin said that my rooster wasn't a real rooster. He said he's a Walmart rooster. *chicken noises* Does this not look like a real rooster to you? *chicken makes a sound again* Sure, he's small, but he has feelings.
important context this person looks and sounds like they’re gonna cry
