Settling In... Or, TRYING to...
[Kakariko Village. In his own Time, it's nothing more than a graveyard on the northwestern edge of Old Hyrule. A place abandoned once, then relocated and rebuilt, allowed to prosper and grow into a proper Town for 200+ years, then obliterated nearly overnight during the start of Ganon's four-year reign of terror. But, this isn't his Time. Here, the Village stands, not in its second incarnation, only so recently destroyed, but in its ancient assignation, closer to the rising sun. And soon, this ancient place is to become Home Sweet Home.]
[Link's been searching houses all day, avoiding the ones Jewel already pointed out as being currently occupied. A few, he dismisses right away, because they have more than one room; it's too much space for just him, and a family might have need of the extra wall partitions.]
[The blue-roofed house looks like a makeshift brewery-meets-chemistry-lab, with three large cauldrons sitting atop burners built into the floor, and jars of all kinds of strange ingredients (some dried, others floating in ghastly, vile-looking fluids) lining the shelves on the walls. Aside from being completely impractical for his needs, that one just smells too weird.]
[This one, near the entrance of town... well, it's dark in there, so he can't SEE much, but there IS just enough light coming from the open doorway for him to notice the first of what seem like MANY wall-to-wall spiderwebs... He. HATES. Spiders. Especially big ones. And if these webs are any indication, the Creepy-Crawlies inside this place must be MONSTERS. When he hears an unidentified scurrying noise, which seems to be coming from the top of one darkened corner, his spine tingles unpleasantly, and he decides to get the hell out of here as fast as he can slam the door shut.]
[The house across from Jewel's looks decent... it even has a little hearth, a bed, and a dinette set. Kinda reminds him of his own shack (minus the 3 feet of snow outside, which he's more than happy to be rid of). He dusts a bit with a moth-eaten cloth he finds lying around, finds the one sheet hidden inside a chest of drawers that ISN'T more moth-holes than fabric, and throws it on the bed, ready for some shut-eye.]
[He's awakened, in the middle of the night, by an itchy, ticklish, and VERY unpleasant sensation. He whips out his Red Candle... and nearly drops it, in shock... The matress... is CRAWLING... with BUGS. And now, so is he! He shakily bolts up, forcing himself into enough self-control to NOT knock over the Candle, as his hand tremblingly tries to set it down. Once the Candle's fairly secure, he sidesteps away and gives in to his panic, frantically hopping up and down, smacking and swiping and patting himself down, shaking his hair out, then taking his clothes off and beating them savagely against the floor and walls and himself, to rid them and him of the creepy, crawly bastards. He has enough presence of mind NOT to scream, though he does whimper, curse, and otherwise emit a wide variety of high-pitched, disgusted noises, under his breath.]
[Oh, this has NOT been a good night! Still quaking with rage (and a general sense of "ick"), and resisting the urge to scratch and swipe at phantom bugs, he collects his things in a messy heap, stomps outside, and, for lack of a better idea, crawls atop a cluster of crates stacked beside the house and falls asleep, there (but only AFTER viciously kicking the crates several times, to warn away any critters, and to take the worst of the edge off). Come morning, that's where he STILL is, hair a mess, clothes rumpled, and eyes bleary.]
[The sun wakes him as soon as it clears the ridge-line. He tries to go back to sleep, tossing and turning and throwing an arm over his eyes in his attempts to ignore Mr. Sun. He finally grabs his hat, which he'd been trying to use for a pillow, and crankily blindfolds himself with it, then settles back down for a very uncomfortable catnap.]
[Link's been searching houses all day, avoiding the ones Jewel already pointed out as being currently occupied. A few, he dismisses right away, because they have more than one room; it's too much space for just him, and a family might have need of the extra wall partitions.]
[The blue-roofed house looks like a makeshift brewery-meets-chemistry-lab, with three large cauldrons sitting atop burners built into the floor, and jars of all kinds of strange ingredients (some dried, others floating in ghastly, vile-looking fluids) lining the shelves on the walls. Aside from being completely impractical for his needs, that one just smells too weird.]
[This one, near the entrance of town... well, it's dark in there, so he can't SEE much, but there IS just enough light coming from the open doorway for him to notice the first of what seem like MANY wall-to-wall spiderwebs... He. HATES. Spiders. Especially big ones. And if these webs are any indication, the Creepy-Crawlies inside this place must be MONSTERS. When he hears an unidentified scurrying noise, which seems to be coming from the top of one darkened corner, his spine tingles unpleasantly, and he decides to get the hell out of here as fast as he can slam the door shut.]
[The house across from Jewel's looks decent... it even has a little hearth, a bed, and a dinette set. Kinda reminds him of his own shack (minus the 3 feet of snow outside, which he's more than happy to be rid of). He dusts a bit with a moth-eaten cloth he finds lying around, finds the one sheet hidden inside a chest of drawers that ISN'T more moth-holes than fabric, and throws it on the bed, ready for some shut-eye.]
[He's awakened, in the middle of the night, by an itchy, ticklish, and VERY unpleasant sensation. He whips out his Red Candle... and nearly drops it, in shock... The matress... is CRAWLING... with BUGS. And now, so is he! He shakily bolts up, forcing himself into enough self-control to NOT knock over the Candle, as his hand tremblingly tries to set it down. Once the Candle's fairly secure, he sidesteps away and gives in to his panic, frantically hopping up and down, smacking and swiping and patting himself down, shaking his hair out, then taking his clothes off and beating them savagely against the floor and walls and himself, to rid them and him of the creepy, crawly bastards. He has enough presence of mind NOT to scream, though he does whimper, curse, and otherwise emit a wide variety of high-pitched, disgusted noises, under his breath.]
[Oh, this has NOT been a good night! Still quaking with rage (and a general sense of "ick"), and resisting the urge to scratch and swipe at phantom bugs, he collects his things in a messy heap, stomps outside, and, for lack of a better idea, crawls atop a cluster of crates stacked beside the house and falls asleep, there (but only AFTER viciously kicking the crates several times, to warn away any critters, and to take the worst of the edge off). Come morning, that's where he STILL is, hair a mess, clothes rumpled, and eyes bleary.]
[The sun wakes him as soon as it clears the ridge-line. He tries to go back to sleep, tossing and turning and throwing an arm over his eyes in his attempts to ignore Mr. Sun. He finally grabs his hat, which he'd been trying to use for a pillow, and crankily blindfolds himself with it, then settles back down for a very uncomfortable catnap.]