Sixteen : Home is where the heart is not
Finals and the three weeks preceding passed in a haze of studying and hysterics for Zelda, a haze of pain for Link, for with his newfound realization had come newfound heartache that he had worked hard to conceal from the world. Zelda, however, ever perceptive, had picked up on his mood, and though at first she had asked him what was wrong, done all that she could for him, she'd gotten the feeling that he just wanted to be left alone.
She was right.
And now it was nine 'o clock in the morning the DAY after the end of finals, and where was Link to be found?
Why, in the back seat of his father's yellow wrangler jeep, sulking. Zelda was sitting shotgun, listening to her MP3 player and staring out the window. Link knew that out of the three people in that car, Zelda was the most right to be sulking- after all, she was the one being sent back to what had been a living hell for her most of her life, to 'visit'.
But oh, Link was using the downtime to his advantage. And so, he sulked.
Zelda, on the other hand, had 'Save Yourself' by Stabbing Westward on repeat and was staring out at the blurred December landscape with unfocused eyes, trying to recall every detail about her home that she had forgotten, every last thing she had sealed away. She knew she would need it for her stay, their stay- the Harkinian household was glamorous on the outside, glamorous on the inside, but rotten to the core. The servants there were often sniping, uppity, her father was strict and distant, not to mention that various important wedding guests would be staying in the massive mansion for sure, and the popularity game was a risky one to play, especially with her father being who he was…
Zelda spent the entire car ride racking her brain, as she had during finals, thinking as hard as she could, putting important names to important faces, forcing herself to recall trivial facts, like Mrs. Annembery's favorite dog's name (Tinsel). She recalled etiquette, trivial rules, the floor plan of the house, history…
By the time that they arrived in the ritzy neighborhood in Napa Valley, Zelda had morphed in her seat from the carefree teenaged Zelda, bassist in a small band and nobody special, to the rich, beautiful, perfect Zelda Harkinian, a young woman who could take the sharks head on and not blink, the young woman who, though she was sheltered from the media, would certainly take her place in the spotlight there very soon.
Even Link and Haft noticed this as they stepped out of the car, watching her gracefully slide from her seat- regally, almost. Father and son shot one another amazed looks as Zelda removed her headphones, placing them in her Prada bag, and brushed her curly hair over her shoulder.
"Well, here we are," she said, except it sounded more like a declaration to Link and Haft, a command of sorts. "Welcome to the house."
Impa and the girls pulled up just then, the two hyperactive little girls hopping up and down excitedly in the back seat of Impa's silver four runner.
"I don't see much," Link commented, eyeing up the large, orange stucco wall and the dark wooden gates before them. There were security cameras attached, as well as a number keypad, a screen, and a speakerphone. Zelda hit in a long, complicated number, then waited for an image to click to life on the screen. Behind her, Impa got the girls out of the car.
"Ah, Miss Harkinian." It was Diego, one of the nicer people who worked at the house, a security guard. "I see you've returned?"
"Yes, with guests. Allow us in, please."
"Right away, ma'am. I'll send someone out to get the cars for you, too, if that would be acceptable."
"That would be wonderful, Diego," Zelda said, then shook her head, straightening up as the doors creaked open.
"In we go," she said, ignoring the amazed looks of the Tudors as the gate's tall wooden doors opened. As Haft opened up the wrangler's trunk, she added, "don't worry about the cars or your luggage. It's all going to be taken care of. Let's go. It's a bit of a walk up, but I can explain things to you as we go."
"Well, alright." Haft was the first to speak up. "Let's go, girls. Come on, Link, Impa."
Link grinned. "Right."
The walk was silent except for Zelda explaining to the family what they would be dealing with, what all would be happening, what they could expect. She explained the strict schedule the house was run under, who would be there, most likely, and the names of the important servants who lived there.
Oh, and how to call off the dogs.
"Down, boys," Zelda barked at them, whistling shrilly at the three large German Shepards. "Isaac! Julius! Epiphany! Down! Go back to the house." She snapped in the faces of the dogs, trying in vain to get the three happy canines off of her.
"Just tell them down if they attack you," she explained, trying to wipe the mutt slobber off of her legs after they'd trotted away. "Not that they should. And use their names, too, and tell them to go back to the house."
"What were their names?" Impa asked.
"Isaac, Julius, and Epiphany. Isaac is the one with the red collar, Julius is blue, and Epiphany has the yellow collar. That would probably be the easiest way for you to remember them."
Haft nodded. "Mmmhm. Don't forget that, girls, okay?" The girls chorused their affirmations.
"They shouldn't give you too many problems," Zelda said. "Hopefully, anyway. And you can always yell for help if you really need it."
"Er, right." Link looked a little green. Sighing, Zelda led them the rest of the way up to the house, and then stopped.
"This is it." She let them take in the giant palm trees, the four floors of orange stucco and red roof, the sheer size and grandeur of it. "Come on, let me show you inside."
"It's like a big orange castle," Saria remarked.
"Yes," Zelda gave a small smile, "I suppose it is."
And the tyrant lies inside.
-
It had been nearly an hour, and she had showed them everything she could think of- those rooms that she couldn't let them enter, she'd given them a thorough explanation as to what laid on the other side of the rich wooden doorway, and she'd explained the guest rooms on the floors above. Now, exhausted, they were at the last stop. Zelda's room.
There was nothing remarkable about her bedroom door, excluding the fact that it had "Zelda's Room" at the top in embossed golden letters.
"This is it." It was the moment she'd been waiting for and the moment she knew the Tudors had been waiting for, and, holding her breath, she turned the golden handle. Zelda opened the door and stepped back, allowing the five Tudors to look inside with something akin to awe.
The first thing that overwhelmed their brains was one word: pink. The second, that it was not a very Zelda room. Definitely not a Zelda room.
Upon seeing this thought register on all their faces, she cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to another.
"My mother did it. She… more than anything, she wanted a baby girl. Before I was even born, she planned this room out. A few touches have been added to keep it from looking dated, but for the most part, this is my room as she imagined it." Zelda stepped fully into the room and looked around at the pink walls, breathing in the scent of the air freshener that the maid always kept a full supply of in the room.
"Your mother had extraordinary tastes," Haft finally said, still looking around in awe. Zelda smiled sadly, turning to face them.
"She did. She was…. One of a kind, from what I've heard. A true lady." She turned around and looked at the room, her room, more. This was the only thing she had missed from home, this room- though it was definitely not in her tastes, it was one of the largest contributions Zelda's mother had ever made to her daughter's life.
Sensing that she needed to be alone for a time, Impa cleared her throat.
"Well," she said pleasantly. "I think I'll get settled in. When do you think lunch will be, Zelda…?"
She didn't even turn, still studying the room that appeared exactly as she remembered it. "One thirty on the dot. Be in the dining room at one twenty-five. Don't forget."
"We won't. That's only in about an hour, isn't it?"
Impa nodded in reply to her husband's question, and then ushered her curious daughters plus a very curious Link out of the room. "Come on. Let's go see if our stuff is in our rooms now."
"Okay, Mom," Zelda heard Jayda chime, and then the door was shut with a click, leaving her alone in the room.
Yes, it was exactly as she had remembered it. The walls were a soft powder pink, cream white molding running around the junction between the floor and the walls and the walls and the ceiling. She stepped forward to her bed, all designer fabrics and pillows.
She gently touched the cream white silk sheets, edges trimmed with lace, and then over that, the golden waffle-style quilt, over which was a half-folded back comforter that was plaid in various shades of cream and soft pastel pinks. Lastly, there was an exquisite cream crocheted blanket that Zelda knew her mother had made for her, and over all of this rested a carefully folded waterfall of clear lace. Beautiful pillows of all shapes and sizes and patterns were piled all atop the bed, all in various shades of cream, pink, and gold, reaching from the four poster's mahogany headboard nearly to the matching mahogany footboard. Above the bed was a canopy of pink lace over an opaque cream sheet; matching curtains were tied back upon each of the four posts of the bed. Smiling for a moment, Zelda breathed in deeply, then turned to examine the rest of the room.
The regal wall sconces were still there, of course, as was all of the matching mahogany furniture- the armoire, the delicate desk, the vanity, the modest bookcase, and the two end tables. At the foot of the bed was a mahogany trunk, which Zelda knew was filled with her old playthings; rag dolls. She'd never wanted anything more, despite her family's extensive pool of wealth.
Aside from the wooden furniture, there was a lush armchair next to the bookcase, upholstered in quilted pink fabric. There was a soft chair at the desk, of course, and lastly, a reclining couch that Zelda used to spend hours on reading.
Though she'd remembered her room clearly, she'd forgotten the air it carried, something sweet and relaxing yet utterly regal at the same time. Zelda immediately felt ashamed. This was the room of a princess, not a Zelda.
In that moment, Zelda missed her mother, fervently. She looked up at the ceiling at the crystal chandelier hanging there, taking comfort in the momentary clinking of the crystals together. When she was little, she thought that, when the light shone through the crystals and made rainbows on the walls, they were smiles and kisses sent to her by her mother.
"I miss you right now, mom," she whispered softly, then looked away from the chandelier and instead to one of the few photographs on the bookshelves.
There was a young woman captured in that instant, sitting in a meadow of dandelions and smiling. She was leaning on her arm, an unopened picnic basket sitting next to her. Her hair was lighter than Zelda's; a soft blond, but long and beautiful, wildly tousled and curly, rather unlike Zelda's own semi-curled locks. However, these soft ringlet curls were gorgeous, framing her beautiful face elegantly. She was wearing a simple white classic sundress, barely hiding her slowly-swelling belly. She was smiling at the camera, her free hand moving up as though to cover the lens from the goofy photographer. Zelda had often dreamed about that smile, thought what it might be like to have that smile directed at her, or what it might be to be held in those pale arms. The woman in the picture was thin, but not skinny- delicate, healthy.
It had been a shock and a disaster to all when she had died in childbirth.
Zelda shook her head, then turned around from the bookshelf. She was just depressing herself. Sighing, she threw the sheer pink curtains back from the French doors out onto her balcony and stepped out, the cool winter air tickling her nose. She walked to the edge of the balcony and leaned out against the thick black metal railing, in part glad to be in her own room and on her own balcony again, yet in part missing the salty sea air of her other home.
Home….. She turned, leaning back against the railing, and stared up at the massive orange stucco house. Shaking her head and coming to a decision, she smiled.
This house was her house, but her home was more than two hours away, in a little Victorian house out by the ocean. The one thing about this house that belonged to her was her room, and her….
I'd forgotten about that, Zelda inwardly exclaimed, and rushed into her room. She remembered discovering, several weeks after arriving at the Tudor house, that she'd forgotten to pack it, but since then, it had only occurred to her a few times.
She threw open the doors of the armoire and pushed through the clothing rack of designer clothes down to the bottom of the armoire, where, behind the many shoes that Zelda had hardly ever worn, there was a faded wooden box with a strange insignia embossed upon the hard, flat panel of the top. Zelda reverently pulled the box out, marveling at how it hadn't even gotten dusty in her absence, courtesy of the maid. Zelda threw the pillows off of the bed (the maid wouldn't like it) and set the box down in the middle, hopping up to sit on the delicate silks and satins cross legged. She pushed on the embossed top, pressing the insignia in, causing a small cylindrical knob to pop out from where it was nearly hidden in the front of the box. Holding her breath, Zelda turned the knob three times to the right, twice to the left, once again to the right, five times more to the left, and pushed in the tiny knob -her aunt had shown her how this was done, as the box was a family heirloom, passed down from oldest daughter to oldest daughter. As Zelda pushed the knob back into the wood, where it blended perfectly, there came the soft "click" of the latch within undoing, and Zelda opened the lid.
The inside of the box was lined in royal purple velvet- in the top of the box hung a golden locket embossed with the same insignia that adorned the top of the box. Carefully, Zelda removed the delicate golden locket and clasped the chain around her neck, hiding it below her hoodie. Her aunt had told Zelda to keep this locket safe, and Zelda decided that it would be safest with her.
There was another item of curiosity within the box, and Zelda carefully, reverently pulled it out. She'd spent a long time turning this item over in her hands, trying to figure out what it meant, but no knowledge, no sudden enlightenment or epiphany had ever come to her.
It was very old- Zelda wasn't sure, but she thought her aunt had told her that it went all the way back before the middle ages, possibly even longer. She couldn't remember exactly. Zelda's aunt had told her that it was half of an old sacred object, the instrument that had once belonged to a hero that quested all through his time to free the kingdom that they were part of from tyranny. Zelda's aunt had never said how it had come to be in the family, even when she asked- she claimed that she didn't know, and that the knowledge had been lost long before her time.
Normally, Zelda would have point-blank refused to take such a ludicrous story as the truth, but there was something about this halved instrument that made it totally believable to her. It was blue, breathtakingly so, even after so many years of existence. It had ripples of lighter blue on it, as though it had sat in the water for a long time underneath the sun, or as though it was trying to mirror the light water cast on walls itself. If Zelda didn't know better, she would have said it glowed, but that was probably from the light shine it reflected from the rainbows cast from the crystal chandelier.
"The pipes of light," her aunt had called them. Zelda turned the pipes over in her hand again, studying it carefully. It had been cleaved down the center, and the mouthpiece had apparently gone with the back half. All that was in the front were seven small holes, which Zelda imagined would be used to play the different notes on the instrument. She turned over the front of the pipes and looked carefully at the back, which was the same astounding color as the front, testifying that it was naturally such a striking blue. Zelda assumed it was the clay or porcelain or whatever it had been used to make the pipes. Neither her nor her aunt knew what the material was made of.
In the back of the pipes was set a small inscription, scratched there from long ago. She couldn't read it- it was in a strange text, runes or hieroglyphs of some sort.
"Can your read these?" Zelda had asked her aunt. The older woman's eyes had glimmered and she'd merely smiled.
"Maybe." And she'd said nothing more on the subject.
Sighing, Zelda set the pipes down on her bed and looked at the inside of the box. She didn't remember ever getting the feeling before, but something about the box seemed odd, something she'd never noticed before. True, the lid was thick, but that was because of the puzzle within. It just seemed to Zelda, though, that the box wasn't as deep as it should be, nor as wide as it should be; however, that may have been an illusion created by the velvet.
Carefully, she touched the purple velvet lining the box. Odd, she thought. This box was old, and so was the velvet, but it was still crisp, despite its age. She put the box down before her, the pipes on her lap, and grabbed a pillow, leaning it against the footboard. She sighed, staring at the small mountain of pillows in front of her, wondering. Absently, she continued to turn the box in her hands, running her fingers all across the wood, when something stopped her. Cautiously, she turned the box over, looking carefully at the bottom. Where had it been…
There.
She remembered it upon seeing it, but had her fingers not happened to run across it, she would never have noticed it. It was a miniature copy of the insignia in the top of the box, carved into the upper left corner of the bottom of the box.
And suddenly, an idea budded in her head. A crazy, insane, improbable idea, but hey, it had been done in movies, right? Blood rushing, Zelda removed the locket from her neck, scrutinizing the image. If she was right…
Yes! The two different insignias were the same sizes.
Hardly daring to breathe, Zelda gently pushed the locket into the bottom of the box, matching up the locket and the carving like two pieces in a puzzle.
The telltale click told her that she'd been right. She gasped as the bottom of the box fell out, revealing an empty chamber.
In the bottom of the box was a fat book, an old book, with yellowed pages and something strange about it. Zelda knew on first glance that this book was something impossibly important, and as much as she yearned to flip through the pages and uncover their knowledge for herself, she chanced a glance at the clock and sighed. She needed to go down to lunch in five minutes, and she couldn't afford to be tardy- if there was one thing her father abhorred, it was a disruption to his daily routine. So, yearning, Zelda closed the bottom of the box, placed the pipes within their resting place in the compartment, then, after a moment of thought, removed the locket as well and hung it back up on the velvet top of the box. Mourning, she closed the lid, making sure the box was locked on both ends, and placed it in the very bottom of the back of her armoire.
Then, sighing, she changed, and then trooped down to meet the Tudors plus her father for lunch.
-
Zelda straightened out her pink designer dress, smoothing invisible wrinkles in the skirt as she pulled at the button-up sweater tighter around her. The dress was cold, but her father had always told her that she looked lovely in this dress. And since he was her father and it was the first time she was seeing him in half a year, Zelda figured she might as well be cold.
"Where'd the grunge go?" Link blurted out suddenly from where he was sitting next to her- Zelda was at the foot of the table, Link to her right, Jayda to her left.
"While I'm here, I have to look the part," she explained. "Don't say anything about me being anything less than a lady while you're here, especially in front of my father."
"What about-"
"Ssh," Impa shushed him. "Be respectful."
"Zelda!"
She couldn't have ever forgotten that booming voice, but at that moment, she didn't care. There was warmth in it, his tone saying he had missed her, even though he'd never called.
"Dad…" Zelda turned in her seat and stood, meeting her father face to face for the first time in months.
She was shocked to see that he had aged… had he always had so many wrinkles? Had he always looked so tired? But his eyes were sparkling, startling compared to his normally stoic self, and he took in his daughter his mouth smiling from underneath the graying red beard he sported. His hair was red, too, but with several thick gray streaks in it. Still cut reasonably as ever, Zelda thought, and she also noticed that her father had lost some weight.
"You're looking well," she said, smiling at him. All her emotions- anger, hatred, sadness, loneliness, welled up in that instant, but she didn't care. He was still her father, and she still loved him, even though he'd done her several wrongs.
"As are you, my dear." He embraced her briefly, then stepped back. "You've grown."
"Perhaps," Zelda offered. "Or maybe you're shrinking."
"Your tongue is as quick as ever, I see," he noted, though the soft smile on his face betrayed the disparagement in his words. "The house has been slightly duller without your presence, Zelda. I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Dad."
Was he feeling well? He would never have shown any emotion such as this before any of his other colleagues, or anyone else for that matter, save for the most intimate of family members, the last of which had died Zelda's first day of life. Yet here he was in front of one of his workers, his worker's wife and three children, hugging his daughter and talking of emotions.
Things had certainly changed in Zelda's absence.
"Haft, Impa." Richard Harkinian turned from his daughter to the two he had appointed to watch over his child. "You've taken good care of my girl. How've you two dogs been doing?"
"We've been doing well, Rich," Haft said.
Wait a second. Rich? Obviously, the two knew each other better than Zelda had been informed.
"Well, tell me about it over lunch. Ah, and these are your children. Link, I assume," Haft nodded at the young man, who smiled unsteadily, "and these two little beauties must be Saria and Jayda."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," they chimed in unison, Jayda looking very serious, Saria as though she were about to crack up. Zelda's father smiled vaguely, then seated himself at the head of the table, Haft at his right, Impa at his left.
"So, tell me," Richard began to speak with Haft, "how have things been…."
-
It had been, all in all, a very exhausting day, and Zelda was sinking into her bed when she remembered the book. Though her eyes were drooping with exhaustion, she sat up from her sheets, swinging her feet out underneath her and searching for an opening in the curtains to free herself from her silk and lace prison. At last, she found it, an exited the bed, grabbing a flashlight from one drawer on her bedside table, and slowly, she crept to the armoire, opening it and finding the box in the dark. Then, she crept back to her bed, shutting the drapes securely behind her and opening up the box, grabbing the locket, and opening the bottom compartment. She reached in and grabbed the thick little book- it felt as though it was leather bound, with parchment paper? How odd. Propping her flashlight up on a pillow, she began to read.
If you have discovered this book, you have discovered the compartment in which it lies, and are about to learn a new family secret, something massive and changing that can not be told by mouth but only by paper. This is the written word, copied down for generations by every fifth daughter, every Zelda, and so I submit to tradition as my ancestral duty so honorably demands of my person.
I am the ninety-fifth daughter, Zelda XXI, and it is the year 1861 anno domini. My country, America, is on the verge of civil war, and I am afraid that this knowledge and the family artifact will be lost in the war by some terrible accident, whether by flame or by theft. However, I give faith to those that guide me, the goddesses that have helped the women of our family for so many thousands of years, and so I will tell the story of our line.
Roughly in the year 400 anno domini, there was a great and prosperous kingdom called Hyrule. Hyrule was a calm land, a quiet and peaceful place where disaster rarely struck. There was a royal line that ruled the land, a royal monarchy 'cursed' to only having daughters for heirs- however, these daughters were the wisest women Hyrule could ever have hoped to encountered. The story of this line is our story, a story of pain, struggle for life, magic, and above all, pure love and friendship.
Zelda stared at the page in front of her.
"This has got to be some hokey joke," she stated aloud to herself. "It has to be." But she read on.
You may doubt my words now, but I promise, daughter, that very soon you will understand all, believe all, and though the shadows in the dark may stretch longer, your mind will be wiser and your heart stronger.
To first understand the stories, you must understand the religious history that lay behind it. When the earth was little more than a godless hunk of rock floating in the emptiness of its own nothingness, the three golden goddesses descended from their heavenly realm, also known as the sacred realm, and breathed life and beauty into the desolate land. These three goddesses were called Din, goddess of power, Nayru, goddess of wisdom, and Faore, goddess of courage. Din, with her strong flaming arms, cultivated the land and created the red earth. Nayru poured her spirit into the earth and gave wisdom and law to the land. And lastly, Faore, with her rich soul, produced all the life that was to uphold the law. The three great goddesses, their labors completed, ascended to the heavens. At the point where they departed, the triforce was born, a symbol of their powers- three golden triangles who embodied each goddess. One was power. One was wisdom. One was courage. These sacred triangles and the worship of them was the basis on which our world was first formed; by our world, I mean not the planet earth but the country that all noble blood springs from, Hyrule.
There was a sketch of the triforce in the margin, and for a moment, Zelda had to stop and stare. Then she looked at the top of the box- the large insignia at the top had three triangles on it. And hadn't her Halloween costume also carried the theme of three triangles? But that was probably just coincidence…
Zelda was very confused. But still, she continued reading, the story drawing her deeper and deeper on.
She didn't sleep at all that night for reading.
-
Saturday, February 12, 2005
9:21 PM Central
A/N: You guys have no earthly idea how much I love you to go through and edit this tonight and publish it tonight. I just got home from an all day dance competition with my drill team, and I am about to collapse. Literally. I was actually about to crawl into bed when I was like "oh, wait, I have to update, don't I……"
I know most of you don't care, but for those of you who do, here's what's been up with my life. If you don't want to hear about it, skip to the next paragraph. Honestly, I don't care. But anyway! I got a question about football season, and I will tell you now that it was so much fun but so incredibly exhausting. Like, honestly, each week felt like three, and Fridays were the worst. I had to get up at the crack of dawn each morning, sometimes before, get completely ready for school and practice, go to actual dance practice, and then dance for often upwards of three hours, then quickly change and run to class and try not to pass out from sheer exhaustion. When I got home at night, it was basely all that I could do to complete my homework- the writing thing was completely not happening then. Then, about halfway through football season, working on a streamer jazz routine, I knocked my hip and it continued to hurt so bad that I had to go to the doctor, and I found out that I'd dislocated my pelvis, which added to my list of crap to deal with. That actually wasn't cured until just a few weeks ago, and I was in intensive therapy three times a week every week, sometimes even four. My pelvis will still dislocate itself at times (bad joints) but I can put it back in place and take care of the pain, for the most part. So that put me out of dancing, but I still had to go to practices and games and stuff. I had a buttload of stuff to do before finals… then the day after finals, we left to go to Arkansas. And it sucked. We got stranded in the snow and had to spend the night in the car in REALLY COLD weather, especially as I'm a heat-loving Texan girl so it was absolutely awful. I got home and turned around and left two days later for the cotton bowl with the drill team, where we practiced nonstop the first day, went shopping the second day, and went to medieval times on new years' eve, which has inspired something that's going to happen in a later chapter, or possibly another fanfic, depends on which I can pull off better. And then I danced at the cotton bowl and came home. School was fine, started writing again because life was EASY, but then a family friend died and my cat came down with diabetes, which has been a lot for me to handle, and my boyfriend finally snapped so I had to break up with him. Now, we're entering the season for our spring show in dance, which is defitinely going to be a time eater so don't expect a bi-weekly basis for updates because I would die, not to mention I have grades to keep up. And, of course, contest today, which was from really early in the morning to just like an hour ago, and I'm about to die. But wow, this was a long ramble. Back on the topic of the story.
Ummm… I can't really think of much. I know the whole ancestral whatnot thing is pretty hokey, but I did want to tie this Zelda AU to the game somehow, else it feels like cheating which is awful and makes me sad- stealing characters and then not tying them to their original formy thing. Whatever. So this particular little chapter is my tribute to Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and chaos will most certainly ensue for our hero and heroine concerning this particular turn of events. Mwahaha. I've actually written a lot ahead, and I think you'll all be pleased with the way that I've worked it into the story- it's not like a completely life changing thing, just a freaky "corpses in the closet" kind of thing, I suppose. I don't know, stuff happens. Lots of stuff.
Wow, I'm so tired. I'm going to shut up and stop rambling and definitely post this now. Any questions/concerns/compliments/complaints, feel free to drop me a review OR an email or even IM me, if I'm on. If. Anywho, I'll see you all around!
Love,
Me.