[ While training and patrolling around one of the Alenroux outposts, Link heard word of the "cookout" to be held for Shard-Bearers both new and old and decided it would be wise to go, even if these kind of events are not normally his thing. Fast-forward through a day's work of set-up, food prep, and making a fool of himself, and Link is as tired and ready for rest as Alenroux's slow sun seems to be, as it begins to leisurely dip below the horizon.
They say that monsters come out at night in this place. Real ones, not people shaped differently from the people he's used to seeing. This strikes Link as a bit concerning — won't all the work they did to prepare for the party the next day be at risk of meddling from these monsters? Maybe their location is too close to one of the outposts, too well-protected by the patrols of the Springstar soldiers, but he's concerned all the same.
So he decides to stand guard. He doesn't mind sleeping outside — at this point, it feels more like home than any room in a building would. As the twilight fades, Link lingers around the cookout area, busying himself quietly with miscellaneous tasks. Even in the dark, you can hear him chopping wood from a good distance away. Later, a small campfire crackles in the same wide fire pit that will house the bonfire tomorrow. Those who might be lingering in the area will surely come across Link at some point, even late at night, where he keeps his back to his small fire, watching over the wild surrounding him. ]
II. cookout
[ The sun rises on a beautiful day, sunny and clear, but cooled by the springtime air. Link managed to get a few hours of sleep sprinkled through his dutiful watch, either by accident or with the help of a new acquaintance. After a quick bath in a nearby stream and a fire-baked apple for breakfast, he is ready for the festivities — and, hopefully, the fun it will bring! The last week has been hard on him. Much harder than he even realizes. ]
(A: contests.) [ The ice breaker contests draw his attention at first, but he does not attempt any until several people have... well, broken the ice, putting themselves out there to get some games started. Perhaps you notice the young man lingering at the edge of the crowd, or maybe it's after he decides to go for it on his own, but you find yourself being partnered up with him for the three-legged race.
Link does not understand this game at first, having no memory of playing it or even hearing about it before. Nevertheless, it's has he's following the judge's instructions and starting to tie the rope around your ankles that he stops and asks: ] Wait... how does this game work, exactly?
(B: your tales.) [ Into the afternoon, the air is filled with the irresistible smell of cooked meat and baked goods. The forums hosted in Highstorm and Springstar, and their accompanying feasts, were only a few days ago, but Link is already ready to stuff himself into a food coma. When he finally retires to one of the tents, he's carrying an absolutely enormous slice of meat pie with him. If it weren't for the conspicuous nature of his portion and choice of food, you might not even notice him as he settles down to listen in on the stories being shared of other worlds not his own. What's yours? ]
(C: my tale.) [ At a certain point, the conversation makes its way to Link. At first, he does not realize why his conversation partner(s) are staring at him, but the glances towards the iliachtida dangling from a cord tied around his neck clues him in. Quietly, he sets down what remains of his food and unwinds the core from his neck.
He's not so sure about this. He hasn't actually gazed into his own sunbeam yet. He'd simply accepted it for what it was purported to be — when everyone says it is what it is, why question it further? What he's seen here today is, at least, as much proof as anyone else would need, but... the thought of looking into his own bead and sharing what's hidden within it... it births a subtle but insidious sense of mild anxiety in him. ]
Well, then... what do you want to know? [ he pauses, seeming to realize that this isn't a question anyone will be able to helpfully answer. ] ...I should say... I don't know my world as well as you might expect someone to.
link, savant
[ While training and patrolling around one of the Alenroux outposts, Link heard word of the "cookout" to be held for Shard-Bearers both new and old and decided it would be wise to go, even if these kind of events are not normally his thing. Fast-forward through a day's work of set-up, food prep, and making a fool of himself, and Link is as tired and ready for rest as Alenroux's slow sun seems to be, as it begins to leisurely dip below the horizon.
They say that monsters come out at night in this place. Real ones, not people shaped differently from the people he's used to seeing. This strikes Link as a bit concerning — won't all the work they did to prepare for the party the next day be at risk of meddling from these monsters? Maybe their location is too close to one of the outposts, too well-protected by the patrols of the Springstar soldiers, but he's concerned all the same.
So he decides to stand guard. He doesn't mind sleeping outside — at this point, it feels more like home than any room in a building would. As the twilight fades, Link lingers around the cookout area, busying himself quietly with miscellaneous tasks. Even in the dark, you can hear him chopping wood from a good distance away. Later, a small campfire crackles in the same wide fire pit that will house the bonfire tomorrow. Those who might be lingering in the area will surely come across Link at some point, even late at night, where he keeps his back to his small fire, watching over the wild surrounding him. ]
II. cookout
[ The sun rises on a beautiful day, sunny and clear, but cooled by the springtime air. Link managed to get a few hours of sleep sprinkled through his dutiful watch, either by accident or with the help of a new acquaintance. After a quick bath in a nearby stream and a fire-baked apple for breakfast, he is ready for the festivities — and, hopefully, the fun it will bring! The last week has been hard on him. Much harder than he even realizes. ]
(A: contests.) [ The ice breaker contests draw his attention at first, but he does not attempt any until several people have... well, broken the ice, putting themselves out there to get some games started. Perhaps you notice the young man lingering at the edge of the crowd, or maybe it's after he decides to go for it on his own, but you find yourself being partnered up with him for the three-legged race.
Link does not understand this game at first, having no memory of playing it or even hearing about it before. Nevertheless, it's has he's following the judge's instructions and starting to tie the rope around your ankles that he stops and asks: ] Wait... how does this game work, exactly?
(B: your tales.) [ Into the afternoon, the air is filled with the irresistible smell of cooked meat and baked goods. The forums hosted in Highstorm and Springstar, and their accompanying feasts, were only a few days ago, but Link is already ready to stuff himself into a food coma. When he finally retires to one of the tents, he's carrying an absolutely enormous slice of meat pie with him. If it weren't for the conspicuous nature of his portion and choice of food, you might not even notice him as he settles down to listen in on the stories being shared of other worlds not his own. What's yours? ]
(C: my tale.) [ At a certain point, the conversation makes its way to Link. At first, he does not realize why his conversation partner(s) are staring at him, but the glances towards the iliachtida dangling from a cord tied around his neck clues him in. Quietly, he sets down what remains of his food and unwinds the core from his neck.
He's not so sure about this. He hasn't actually gazed into his own sunbeam yet. He'd simply accepted it for what it was purported to be — when everyone says it is what it is, why question it further? What he's seen here today is, at least, as much proof as anyone else would need, but... the thought of looking into his own bead and sharing what's hidden within it... it births a subtle but insidious sense of mild anxiety in him. ]
Well, then... what do you want to know? [ he pauses, seeming to realize that this isn't a question anyone will be able to helpfully answer. ] ...I should say... I don't know my world as well as you might expect someone to.