First Meeting
This is some exposition concerning Warriors and Wind’s relationship in my GameAge au
It has been nearly two years now.
Two years since the hurricane had forced him, his sister, and his grandma to move from their tropical, beach-side abode to the hustle and bustle of Hateno town, within the Hyrule province. Two years since his grandma had gotten ill.
Two years since his entire life had been uprooted and shifted inland.
There was no home to get back to, not really.
He’d seen it, not in person too busy trying to book the quickest flight off the island, but online through a shaky lens where water turned to blades and tore through humanity's fragile structures and the roaring of the winds over the screaming of people long gone.
It didn’t feel real, not then, not now. It felt as though it had been a bad dream that he had yet to have woken up from.
It didn’t feel real living in this dilapidated apartment and working two jobs instead of going to university like he’d dreamed of. Sometimes it felt as though he was simply a ghost in his own life, just going through the motions.
It wasn’t bad. In hindsight they were doing alright. They’ve got food on the table, a place to live in, and Aryll can still finish high school. His grandma, all things considered, could be worse.
Even if the ache in his chest persists and grows when he looks back on what once was. The hole that makes itself known when he goes through the water damaged albums they’ve managed to scavenge, only grows deeper because he’ll never see these people again.
And even those who’ve survived have changed. Some of them grew angry, at others, at the world, at themselves. Some simply drink until they’re thrown out of their homes, where they try something harder to numb their thoughts. Others try to rebuild their old lives, only to be worked to the bone, and grow weary and sick.
Everyone who was once a part of a close knit community seemed like strangers now.
They all, however, share the same look of grey in their eyes.
He supposes that he’s changed too.
He’s quieter now, although he’s better than when the storm had first hit, where he wouldn’t speak for months. His tongue is still heavy and thick and his words have a tendency to stick to the roof of his mouth, but he’s better.
At least he hopes he is.
He knows he doesn’t have that same drive as before. That drive to work harder and to do his best in hopes for a brighter, easier future.
Nowadays, it seems that he only works to do the bare minimum, feeling too exhausted to do much else. He feels like he’s aged two decades since the hurricane.
But, it’s better now than it was before. That’s what he keeps telling himself.
That ache still sits where his heart is. He doesn’t think it’ll go away anytime soon, but that’s fine- it’s livable.
He’ll survive.
He finds that he misses the gentle waves that lap up the side of his boat- “the Wind Waker” -when he used to go for the short trips to the mainland.
The sun-warmed sand that would curl around and cup his toes.
The salty sea breeze that sinks into everything it touches.
Things that he never noticed, never bothered to remember are things that he reminisces about now.
Funny how that works.
He can see that in the boy in front of him.
That grey in his eyes and that ache in his chest that is so similar, yet so different from himself.
This boy, who’s life had been uprooted and shifted, who reminds him of his little sister, now stands in the entryway, peeking from behind the legs of the social service lady.
They boy’s blue eyes pierce into his own with an intensity that could rival his own back when he was himself.
“Hey, my name’s Wind.”
It wasn’t really. That name was a nickname given by someone he’ll never see again, but it felt more true than his birth name.
“What’s yours?” He continued with a half forced smile. That little boy’s dreary mood could suck the life out of everything.
“Warriors.”
“Whoa, that’s a cool name! I’m your cousin, you’re gonna be living with me from now on, alright?”
The boy looks down to his shoes. His tiny fingers play with the frayed end of the scarf around his neck.
He doesn’t say anything else, but that’s fine. He’ll speak in due time.
He’ll get better.
Wind will do his best to make sure the boy doesn’t have to do it alone.
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Hello!
I’ve been pretty sick this little while. While I do have plans to continue the Gameage AU, I may a few difficulties with drawing in the future.
This not to say I will be quitting. I might just experiment with different forms of storytelling that are less draining.
I can, however, promise new Gameage content coming soon. I’m really enjoying this AU and I have so many ideas I want to get onto paper!
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