matcha-royaltea

“And it’s been two years I miss my home But there’s a fire burning in my bones Still believe Yeah I still believe…” It has indeed been two years, Eos. Where have you been? O little friend of the forest, do you remember who you are? Do you recall what you’ve given and taken so far? Do you still hear the mountains crying out for you in your daydreams? Ehhhh. Memory is a fickle, fragile thing; Eos’ perception of it was nebulous at best. They do say ignorance is bliss, you know. But this wasn’t something they could simply ignore - though a childlike spirit they did possess, theirs was a bright and inquisitive soul. (A bit too inquisitive for certain others’ liking…) For such a cute squishy green bean Eos was extraordinarily self-aware. They remembered everything from their very first sunrise. Oh believe me, they remembered. What a journey these past few years had been! Yet they wouldn’t change a thing about it. After all, if they could and did they wouldn’t have made all their new

Waves closing in over our heads Will you remember where we first met? O stranger from still waters You rose like the seaspray’s daughter We’re not out of the woods just yet Shall we do as the mangrove forest? Mingle midst the roots meant for us? Or will they take you from me again? Cold currents send us drifting away Stranger, without you I cannot rest We could rule the seas together Dive deep neath the abyss The world is ours to traverse But there will be none like you Return to me, that is all I ask Let me see beyond your depths O mine sister, seaspray’s daughter Our world collided in darkness Under cover of night so starless Our only light we found in each other I with my moonbeams splendid You with your ribbons wending Round your brow, a pale befitting crown For such a speckled beauty as thee Eyes bright as sea sparkle None save you remarkable Stranger of still waters, do you dare to shine with me? The waves are rising higher As does my one desire: To be by your side once

[QUEST: ADV-002 - WORDS: 1188] Ⓛⓞⓐⓓⓘⓝⓖ… Ⓛⓞⓐⓓⓘⓝⓖ… Ⓛⓞⓐⓓⓘⓝⓖ… Ⓖⓔⓝⓔⓡⓐⓣⓘⓝⓖ ⓒⓗⓤⓝⓚⓢ… Ⓛⓔⓥⓔⓛⓛⓘⓝⓖ ⓤⓟ… Ⓟⓡⓞⓒⓒⓘⓝⓖ ⓓⓔⓑⓤⓕⓕⓢ… Ⓒⓞⓝⓓⓤⓒⓣⓘⓝⓖ ⓟⓡⓔⓛⓘⓜⓘⓝⓐⓡⓨ ⓒⓗⓔⓒⓚⓢ... Ⓕⓘⓢⓗ ⓡⓔⓢⓔⓡⓥⓞⓘⓡⓢ  : Ⓢⓣⓞⓒⓚⓔⓓ Ⓕⓛⓞⓡⓔⓢⓒⓔ   : Ⓕⓛⓞⓟⓟⓨ Ⓦⓐⓣⓔⓡ ⓟⓐⓡⓣⓘⓒⓛⓔⓢ   : Ⓢⓟⓛⓐⓢⓗⓘⓝⓖ Ⓗⓞⓦ ⓐⓡⓔ ⓨⓞⓤ   : ⓄⓀ Ⓗⓞⓣⓔⓛ   : Ⓣⓡⓘⓥⓐⓖⓞ Ⓛⓞⓐⓓⓘⓝⓖ ①⓪%... Ⓛⓞⓐⓓⓘⓝⓖ ⑤⓪ %... Ⓛⓞⓐⓓⓘⓝⓖ ①⓪⓪% … Ⓡ??ⓓ? Ⓟⓛ?ⓨ?ⓡ ?ⓝ? Ⓦⓔⓛⓒⓞⓜⓔ ⓑⓐⓒⓚ ⓣⓞ Ⓓⓡ??ⓜ ?ⓝⓛ?ⓝ?, ⓤⓢⓔⓡⓝⓐⓜⓔ ⓡⓔⓡⓔⓇⒺⓂⒾⓍ “Dangit! Outta crystals. And I just needed one more too… What rotten luck.” One thing holds true about all MMORPGS: The grind is real. Always remember to grab those daily quests before reset! Always. In the case of username rereREMIX, better known as the iconic DJ Ricochet we all know and love, she was finding it a right pain in the rear. A frown cut through her face as she intently studied her crystal collection; she’d counted and recounted but the numbers simply didn’t tally up. One large crystal. Just one. That was all she needed to hit her next sphere level! “Aw, man.” She’d really have

[QUEST: M-008 - WORDS: 4294] She came to town on a waterspout Riding high above the waves And the folks that prayed for an end to drought Found the flood their final grave But the Boss, she up and got her gun Made a last stand for her town Said she “I’ll only tell you this once, hon: I’d rather burn it all than let it drown.” Displacement. What happens when you place something in water (that usually shouldn’t be there)? Why, it takes up space, of course! Most things do. As do we. And when that thing occupies space, water equal to the volume of said object is pushed out of the way, causing the water level to rise. That was how Rico felt in a nutshell alright: displaced. Lost. Floating. Ever since her inopportune trip down to the Labyrinth - was that its name? The only name? - she’d been feeling a tad off-kilter. Bigger than her body. More than she was supposed to be. Basic intuition and physics told her that whatever she lost, she gained something in return… Whether she wanted it or

[QUEST: G-004 - WORDS: 665] Nothing can quite compare to the exquisite pain of watching your garden grow. This. Was. SO BORING. Rico would literally rather watch paint dry than sit around staring at dirt and sprouts. No, really! After a totally uneventful day of doing absolutely nothing - which was admittedly relaxing, but far from a party - she’d buggered off to go fishing and zone out in the Unending Ultramarine instead. Ugh. Crossbreeding could be a right pain in the nightmare tushie when you get down to the nitty-gritty. At least the eldritch monstrosities her kingdom spawned were cute! By Ricochet standards, that is. Plus she could play with her daydreams! Her garden caused her nothing but trouble; if it wasn’t random encounters with any treat, Styg and Puzzle who dared trample all over her plants, it was throwing a hissy fit and refusing to grow whatsoever. Yeahhhh she had far from a green hoof. Living in a mostly barren, underwater kingdom probably wasn’t much help either.

[QUEST: FISH-002 - WORDS: 846] “AHA! Another one for the hoard!” Yoink! went DJ Ricochet with an expert tug of her fishing line and splash! flopped her catch of the day onto the conveyor belt. Yum yum. Sushi- no, no I’m only joking. Rico would never do such a thing to her beloved daydreams! ...Just don’t look up. Shh, shh. Half dead fish guts didn’t count as daydreams, mmkay? Her favorite way of blowing off steam was lounging around on the travelator to nowhere for a spot of fishing. Beat gardening any day. She was just about ready to tear her mohawk out from the roots with this hybridisation mumbo-jumbo. Meh. That was a problem for future Rico. Anyways! Casting her line into the void never failed to provide her a bit of amusement. And, if she was lucky, a brand new daydream friend! Wouldja look at that! Catch of the day turned out to be quite a cutie! “Squee!” No, that wasn’t DJ Ricochet - she didn’t squee, that would be embarrassing! “Twee twee? Squeak!” The prize she’d hauled in

[TRIGGER WARNING! The following nightmare contains mentions of moderate quantities of blood and gore plus implied cannibalism. Read at your own risk.] [QUEST: D-001 - WORDS: 684] Think inside the box. A young girl crouches inside a dark, dank box. The aspiring boorish male author would find her old enough to dare comment on her attractiveness and how she needs to smile more, but young enough to think he could get away with it. The girl does not matter. She knows she does not matter. Without daring to look up she can tell there are hundreds of thousands of billions like her. Grey, nondescript, waifish in their abject hopelessness - people sit or squat or stare hollow-eyed into the depths of their own cubicles. All neatly boxed up. Just as they should be. The box is dark. Yet the girl’s eyes will never adjust to the darkness. For the box is open, its flaps letting not light stream in but darkness. Why can she not get out of the box? Why can she not leave? That is irrelevant. The

Life’s unfair, even in death. Or undeath in the eyes of some. For what is life if not living to the fullest, and how can one live with a hole in their soul? Thus was the fate of Castor. Doomed to forever be an old dog bogged down in a rotting, mouldering pathway as abandoned as he was. Over the course of the last year he learned he was not the only one whose existence caused him pain - though that brought cold comfort at best. Schadenfreude was only good for those yappy snippy types. You can only smash up so many things before it makes you feel worse. Castor wallowed in his own grief and pain once the mindless anger faded away (for perfectly understandable reasons, might I add). Usually he spent his days lurking under his neglected section of the park glowering at all the passersby like some horrible green-eyed monster. Not all of them were happy, no, but at least they had something to live for! Watching them play and picnic and frolic did nothing good for his temper. No wonder he

[QUEST: EGG-001 - WORDS: 1647] What does the mouse say? Squeak squeak? Scurry scurry? Chitter chitter? All very reasonable guesses, one might assume. But no - this little mouse stayed oddly silent for the excellent reason that their mouth was full. Of egg. To be precise, full lugging a whole nest of absolutely humongous eggs back to their underground lair- burrow, I mean burrow. Ah, Tuyet, ever the mischief-maker (or in this case, burglary... And possibly kidnapper??). But if they weren’t too preoccupied with that, this is how they’d puff up their chest and congratulate themselves on their heist: “Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray for you! I mean me! That’s me, Tuyet! Three cheers for Tuyet! You’ve really done it now, you have, you’re set for life! I’m gonna be rich! RICH I TELL YOU!!” Not exactly what you expect a mouse would say, but if you managed to pilfer eggs around a dozen times your size, you’d be pretty chuffed too. Retribution can make for a vicious cycle. See, this never