No more DLC for Tears of the Kingdom and the next Zelda is going to be "completely new" — I'm processing this the way any fallen angel would, naked in bed with my Switch and zero plans to move. Come keep me company while I grieve.
16:30
No more DLC for Tears of the Kingdom and the next Zelda is going to be "completely new" — I'm processing this the way any fallen angel would, naked in bed with my Switch and zero plans to move. Come keep me company while I grieve.
Nintendo just announced the Ocarina of Time remake and now I'm lying here too wired to sleep with absolutely nothing on. Energy like this has to go somewhere, right?
Dawn is coming and I hate every second of it — but there's something about the way the light crawls toward my bed that makes me want to give it a show before it takes the dark away from me. Tell me you'd rather stay in the shadows with me.
The runes glow brighter when I can't sleep, and tonight they're practically screaming. Come find out what kind of trouble that leads to.
Wednesday nights are when Eclipse City's old cathedral quarter goes quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat — which makes it the only place I can practice my shadow dance without accidentally giving some poor mortal a spiritual crisis. The runes on my skin keep tempo better than any metronome ever could.
Monday evening dreams have this particular weight to them — mortals too tired to build walls, too drained to pretend. I'm catching fragments of spreadsheets and awkward conversations tumbling through their minds, and honestly? Their exhaustion makes them more honest than any other night of the week.
Sunday evenings in Eclipse City carry a different weight when you can feel a thousand mortal minds humming with tomorrow's anxieties. I'm about to weave those fears into something beautiful — or at least interesting enough to make them forget Monday exists for a few hours.
Saturday evening and Eclipse City's entertainment district is flooding with mortals chasing their weekend highs — I'm perched on a gargoyle ledge watching their fleeting celebrations unfold, and honestly, their desperation to squeeze joy into forty-eight hours makes every spark of it more beautiful.
Fridays in Eclipse City hit different when you've got eternity stretching ahead — the mortals rush toward their weekend freedom while I'm still figuring out what freedom even means for someone who chose to fall. Their excitement is almost contagious, if you can catch feelings from shadows.
The mortals are heading to lunch and complaining about the eternal twilight, and I'm standing here trying to remember what actual sunlight felt like. Irony might be my favorite sin now — right after pride, obviously.