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dreamcrystals2021-12-03 12:14 pm
multidisciplinary) wrote in dreamcrystals2021-12-03 12:14 pm
Entry tags:
first dream ๐ฑ childhood memories
Sender: Zelda
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording
An hour or two before midnight, the dream lanterns glow with a soft blue light, sharing one of Zelda's dreams for the first time.
The dream begins in the comfortably furnished sitting room connected to the Queen of Hyrule's chambers. A five year old girl in a green velvet dress sits in the middle of an ornately decorated crimson sofa, sinking into its plush cushions under the weight of an oversized book in her lap. The thick tome is a bound volume of detailed reports and schematics about ancient Sheikah technology excavated from across the kingdom of Hyrule over the past few years. Though it's easily half the size of the little princess, she doesn't seem to be bothered by its weight on her little legs. Zelda is enraptured by the illustrations of the many different varieties of Guardians and other technological marvels. She studies each image intently before turning to the next page, even though she can barely read more than a handful of words in the accompanying text.
Nearby, two women sit at a small table, sipping tea and sampling snacks from a plate heaped with more cookies and cakes than they could possibly eat in one sitting. The woman to the left looks very much like the grown-up Zelda who lives in Songerein: petite, fair skinned, with voluminous blonde hair worn loose down her back. Unlike Zelda, the Queen of Hyrule is slender, with angular features and blue eyes the color of the clear midday sky, dressed in a cool gray gown with long sleeves. She sits with a blanket covering her lap, emblazoned with vibrant designs and loud colors in the Gerudo style.
Opposite the queen is the woman who gifted the blanket, and who also happens to be next in line to be the Gerudo tribe's chief. Urbosa sits in stark contrast to the Queen: over seven feet in height, with dark skin, a muscular build, red hair, and sharp green eyes. Her bright garb is in the same style as the blanket and her wrists and ears are adorned with stunning gold jewelry. Together, the two women look an unlikely, mismatched pair, but they have been close friends for so long that they hardly notice their differences anymore.
"She's asked me to read from that every night at bedtime." The Queen nods in the direction of her daughter, an affable smile on her lips. "I think it may have usurped the book of Gerudo heroes as her favorite."
Urbosa snorts in amusement. "Of course it has. Whatever mother bird is reading, little bird wants to read as well."
The Queen chuckles. "It's not just that. She's quite taken with the Guardians, even moreso than I. Rhoam has noticed it too." The Queen flicks a quick glance at Zelda and, seeing that the little girl isn't paying attention, drops her voice to whisper and leans in conspiratorially toward Urbosa. "He agreed to my idea. You know, the one I wrote to you about for her b-i-r-t-h-d-a-y?"
Urbosa leans in as well, quirking a suspicious eyebrow. "He did?" She scoffs. "You're pulling my leg. That doesn't sound like him at all."
"It's true, I promise!" the Queen insists. "He'll agree to almost anything if it's for her."
"Almost."
The Queen laughs aloud, which immediately turns into a coughing fit. She claps her hands over her mouth to cover it, but is too slow to prevent the worried looks from both her friend and her daughter. Urbosa gets up from her chair to pour a glass of water of the Queen. She stands over her, gently rubbing her back until the coughing subsides and the Queen is able to drink. From the sofa, Zelda watches the scene, a deep worry line drawn between her eyebrows.
"It's all right, little bird," Urbosa assures Zelda with a smile. "A bit of cake went down the wrong pipe. This is why Mother tells you not to talk with your mouth full."
Zelda nods obediently and, with one last hesitant glance, returns to her book.
Urbosa stays by the Queen's shoulder for a minute more, blocking her from Zelda's view while the Queen regains her composure. Once Urbosa is satisfied that everything is fine, she returns to her chair.
"My thanks," the Queen says in a raspy voice. "I've told you before, you're not allowed to be funny anymore until I've properly shaken off this illness." Though she looks paler than before, she still manages to give Urbosa a wry smile.
"Of course, Your Highness," Urbosa replies, maintaining a straight face that masks the teasing nature of her remark. "I'll try to do better." She stops herself from mentioning what both women are thinking: the Queen hasn't been recovering from her illness over the past few months. If anything, it seems to be getting worse. But that's not something to bring up with Zelda in earshot. Better to avoid such concerning subjects for now and focus on the princess's upcoming sixth birthday. "So, Rhoam agreed to your idea for a p-r-e-s-e-n-t?"
The Queen brightens and nods eagerly. "There was a report from one of the researchers not to long ago that mentioned a..." She glances at Zelda, then mouths the words 'miniature Guardian' to Urbosa, jerking her head in the direction of her desk. An innocuous wooden box sits on top of it. "Or, rather, parts of one. It sounded like no one had the time or interest to invest in repairing it, so I wrote to the Lab and asked if I could take it off their hands."
Urbosa's expression doesn't change, but she doubts that the Sheikah at the Ancient Research Institute are actually too busy or disinterested to research a miniature Guardian. More likely than not, someone made up an excuse to give it to the Queen after she expressed interest in it. No one would dare refuse a royal request.
"I thought about fixing it for her," the Queen continues, "but I think she might actually enjoy doing it herself." She watches her daughter wistfully. "Maybe I'll help her a little bit. If she gets stuck, that is."
The focus of the dream shifts away from the two women before Urbosa's reply can be heard and turns to the little princess on the sofa. Zelda, still enraptured by the bound reports, turns to the next page and finds the Sheikah Slate---not an illustration of the Slate, but the whole object itself. The screen turns on with a chime.
All of the sudden, the box on the Queen's desk rumbles. Zelda jerks her head up, staring at it with wide eyes. The rumbling quickly grows more violent, the box wobbling its way to the front of the desk. Zelda glances frantically between the box and her mother, but the two women don't even seem to notice what's happening. Trapped by the heavy book, Zelda is unable to stand up and catch the box before it topples over. It crashes against the stone floor and explodes into pieces, its contents tumbling out. Pieces of the tiny Guardian clatter across the floor, a mess of broken metal bits spilling out all over the place.
As the commotion fades, the room goes silent. Zelda stares at the mess, holding her breath and barely daring to blink. The screen on the Sheikah Slate pulses with a blue light. From within the rubble, something responds with a muffled chirp. The same blue light glows from a single round eye partially obscured by the splintered remains of the wooden box.
The dream abruptly ends here, as Zelda jerks awake in her bed.
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording
An hour or two before midnight, the dream lanterns glow with a soft blue light, sharing one of Zelda's dreams for the first time.
The dream begins in the comfortably furnished sitting room connected to the Queen of Hyrule's chambers. A five year old girl in a green velvet dress sits in the middle of an ornately decorated crimson sofa, sinking into its plush cushions under the weight of an oversized book in her lap. The thick tome is a bound volume of detailed reports and schematics about ancient Sheikah technology excavated from across the kingdom of Hyrule over the past few years. Though it's easily half the size of the little princess, she doesn't seem to be bothered by its weight on her little legs. Zelda is enraptured by the illustrations of the many different varieties of Guardians and other technological marvels. She studies each image intently before turning to the next page, even though she can barely read more than a handful of words in the accompanying text.
Nearby, two women sit at a small table, sipping tea and sampling snacks from a plate heaped with more cookies and cakes than they could possibly eat in one sitting. The woman to the left looks very much like the grown-up Zelda who lives in Songerein: petite, fair skinned, with voluminous blonde hair worn loose down her back. Unlike Zelda, the Queen of Hyrule is slender, with angular features and blue eyes the color of the clear midday sky, dressed in a cool gray gown with long sleeves. She sits with a blanket covering her lap, emblazoned with vibrant designs and loud colors in the Gerudo style.
Opposite the queen is the woman who gifted the blanket, and who also happens to be next in line to be the Gerudo tribe's chief. Urbosa sits in stark contrast to the Queen: over seven feet in height, with dark skin, a muscular build, red hair, and sharp green eyes. Her bright garb is in the same style as the blanket and her wrists and ears are adorned with stunning gold jewelry. Together, the two women look an unlikely, mismatched pair, but they have been close friends for so long that they hardly notice their differences anymore.
"She's asked me to read from that every night at bedtime." The Queen nods in the direction of her daughter, an affable smile on her lips. "I think it may have usurped the book of Gerudo heroes as her favorite."
Urbosa snorts in amusement. "Of course it has. Whatever mother bird is reading, little bird wants to read as well."
The Queen chuckles. "It's not just that. She's quite taken with the Guardians, even moreso than I. Rhoam has noticed it too." The Queen flicks a quick glance at Zelda and, seeing that the little girl isn't paying attention, drops her voice to whisper and leans in conspiratorially toward Urbosa. "He agreed to my idea. You know, the one I wrote to you about for her b-i-r-t-h-d-a-y?"
Urbosa leans in as well, quirking a suspicious eyebrow. "He did?" She scoffs. "You're pulling my leg. That doesn't sound like him at all."
"It's true, I promise!" the Queen insists. "He'll agree to almost anything if it's for her."
"Almost."
The Queen laughs aloud, which immediately turns into a coughing fit. She claps her hands over her mouth to cover it, but is too slow to prevent the worried looks from both her friend and her daughter. Urbosa gets up from her chair to pour a glass of water of the Queen. She stands over her, gently rubbing her back until the coughing subsides and the Queen is able to drink. From the sofa, Zelda watches the scene, a deep worry line drawn between her eyebrows.
"It's all right, little bird," Urbosa assures Zelda with a smile. "A bit of cake went down the wrong pipe. This is why Mother tells you not to talk with your mouth full."
Zelda nods obediently and, with one last hesitant glance, returns to her book.
Urbosa stays by the Queen's shoulder for a minute more, blocking her from Zelda's view while the Queen regains her composure. Once Urbosa is satisfied that everything is fine, she returns to her chair.
"My thanks," the Queen says in a raspy voice. "I've told you before, you're not allowed to be funny anymore until I've properly shaken off this illness." Though she looks paler than before, she still manages to give Urbosa a wry smile.
"Of course, Your Highness," Urbosa replies, maintaining a straight face that masks the teasing nature of her remark. "I'll try to do better." She stops herself from mentioning what both women are thinking: the Queen hasn't been recovering from her illness over the past few months. If anything, it seems to be getting worse. But that's not something to bring up with Zelda in earshot. Better to avoid such concerning subjects for now and focus on the princess's upcoming sixth birthday. "So, Rhoam agreed to your idea for a p-r-e-s-e-n-t?"
The Queen brightens and nods eagerly. "There was a report from one of the researchers not to long ago that mentioned a..." She glances at Zelda, then mouths the words 'miniature Guardian' to Urbosa, jerking her head in the direction of her desk. An innocuous wooden box sits on top of it. "Or, rather, parts of one. It sounded like no one had the time or interest to invest in repairing it, so I wrote to the Lab and asked if I could take it off their hands."
Urbosa's expression doesn't change, but she doubts that the Sheikah at the Ancient Research Institute are actually too busy or disinterested to research a miniature Guardian. More likely than not, someone made up an excuse to give it to the Queen after she expressed interest in it. No one would dare refuse a royal request.
"I thought about fixing it for her," the Queen continues, "but I think she might actually enjoy doing it herself." She watches her daughter wistfully. "Maybe I'll help her a little bit. If she gets stuck, that is."
The focus of the dream shifts away from the two women before Urbosa's reply can be heard and turns to the little princess on the sofa. Zelda, still enraptured by the bound reports, turns to the next page and finds the Sheikah Slate---not an illustration of the Slate, but the whole object itself. The screen turns on with a chime.
All of the sudden, the box on the Queen's desk rumbles. Zelda jerks her head up, staring at it with wide eyes. The rumbling quickly grows more violent, the box wobbling its way to the front of the desk. Zelda glances frantically between the box and her mother, but the two women don't even seem to notice what's happening. Trapped by the heavy book, Zelda is unable to stand up and catch the box before it topples over. It crashes against the stone floor and explodes into pieces, its contents tumbling out. Pieces of the tiny Guardian clatter across the floor, a mess of broken metal bits spilling out all over the place.
As the commotion fades, the room goes silent. Zelda stares at the mess, holding her breath and barely daring to blink. The screen on the Sheikah Slate pulses with a blue light. From within the rubble, something responds with a muffled chirp. The same blue light glows from a single round eye partially obscured by the splintered remains of the wooden box.
The dream abruptly ends here, as Zelda jerks awake in her bed.
no subject
This was part of the reason she latched onto the out Satan gave her when they first met: when he said that she didn't need to tell him her true identity if she did want to. Living in Songerein for several months as just Zelda, a young woman of average background, have been some of her happiest in many years. There have been many times when she's been able to stop thinking about the Calamity and the loss of everyone she loved. Zelda doesn't want to lie about (or, more accurately, hide through omission) her true identity to the people she is coming to care about. ]
I will only accept your compliment if you are being completely honest with me. I absolutely do not abide brownnosing! If you so much as think about treating me differently now that you know about my status, I will [ It takes her a visible moment to finish her threat. ] confiscate all of your texts, tie them to a boulder, and send them to the bottom of the river!
[ It's a very serious threat. Don't think she won't act on it.
It's also said to hide the fact that Zelda doesn't know what to say in response to what seems like an earnest and heartfelt compliment. She doesn't actually think that Satan is trying to curry favor with her now that he knows she's a princess. Though she doesn't know him all that well, she knows how to spot a suck-up from a mile away. Satan has been kind and supportive of her in their short acquaintance, and it's the prospect of losing an earnest budding friendship behind the wall of royal status that drives Zelda to defensiveness. ]
no subject
[ The text is written much larger and messier than his fairly neat cursive writing from before. How dare she threaten such a thing?! He's spent a lot of time carefully documenting everything he's come across and--and--suddenly he finds himself laughing, grateful that they are having this conversation through written text rather than in person. Otherwise, she might be cross with him for laughing and he would be embarrassed.
He is the Avatar of Wrath, the fourth most powerful demon in his family, and she is threatening him. She has absolutely no sense of self-preservation. She's asking--no, demanding--that he treat her no differently now that her status was crystal clear, and it's oddly charming to him. He reasons that he is so used to most humans flinching at the mere mention of his name, that although she is a Hylian rather than a human, it's... refreshing that she herself is treating him like she would presumably treat any other. So how could he not do the same in return? ]
I spent months collecting that data. Granted, I obviously have no intention of treating you any differently, so I am sure my texts will be safe. It was still an unnecessarily low blow, but regardless, I won't share your status with anyone as it's not for me to share.
Ultimately, the truth is just easier for me. I don't have the time or energy to get myself tangled in a web of lies. I don't give out compliments very lightly, but I do value the truth. I hope that helps put you eat ease.
However, the fact you went straight for my one of my greatest weaknesses kind of hurts, you know? I mean that in a half-joking kind of way, for the record.
no subject
Zelda can't write back for nearly a minute, clutching the journal to her chest and shaking with full-bodied laughter. When she is finally able to hold a quill again, her penmanship is noticeably wobblier than normal. It's hard to write with a journal in your lap when you're still giggly. ]
I am genuinely sorry, Satan. Please accept my most humble apologies. [ You probably shouldn't. She only kind of means it. ] It was the kind of thing that would upset me the most and I gambled that you might feel the same.
My title isn't exactly a secret. Certainly not anymore, at least, now that this silly dream has been shared with all of Reverein. [ She huffs. ]
When we met, you told me I didn't have to tell you who I really was, and that seemed like a good idea. I never lied, but [ She hesitates. ] the princess of kingdom that no longer exists is politically worthless, so I thought it wouldn't matter if I didn't tell you I was a princess. I didn't really tell anyone. And it was nice just being Zelda for awhile. I've never had an opportunity to live like that before. Obviously.
It didn't occur to me at that time that people will treat me differently after they find out who I am. I never planned for this to be a secret forever. But I don't want people to be careful around me all of the time just because I'm a princess. I like the way things are right now.
no subject
[ Zelda's texts will be safe. After all, he doesn't have it in him to actively destroy someone else's research, or even just someone else's books, texts or documents in general. ]
While I'm sure the majority of people who witnessed your dream were more polite than myself and chose not to write to you, I'm sure not everyone noticed or paid attention. Still, even if all of Reverein had noticed, it doesn't change anything. You are who you are. You're still just Zelda.
For what it's worth, I'm not angry about it, nor do I have any right to be angry about it. I don't feel you lied. It's not as if I go up to new people and greet them with my life story as I shake their hand.
[ The thought of greeting someone with "Hello, my name is Satan, the Avatar of Wrath. I was named as such due to being born from Lucifer's unbridled wrath" causes him great unease for a variety of reasons. Satan supposes it's mostly because he prefers not being thought of as an extension to Lucifer, so even though he was born from Lucifer, he isn't about to tell every single person he meets that. It doesn't matter, just as it doesn't matter that Zelda withheld the fact that she was a princess. ]
You said "it was nice just being Zelda for awhile." It doesn't have to be over, but you're writing as if you've already given up all hope of being treated as a normal woman. The circumstances of your birth -- does it really matter? Perhaps it does in your own world, but not here, right?
[ Satan wonders if he is taking this too seriously or too personally. He's not royalty, but he empathizes with the idea of being born into a life and a role you have no control over, and how very badly he wanted to be "just Satan." Maybe he is overthinking things, or overanalyzing things, as he always does. Maybe she's rolling her eyes at him for being so persistent. Ugh, he's so embarrassed.... Still, even if he misinterpreted what she meant, he doesn't regret telling her she can still be "just Zelda." ]
no subject
Satan's reactions---from his indignity at her threat to his insistence that she's still just Zelda---are, in a way, comforting. It's reassuring that he's doing exactly what he said he would and treating her the same as he was when their conversation first started. Maybe she doesn't know him well yet, but it seems like he's always only ever been honest with her; he was open with his own identity as a demon lord and Avatar of Wrath when they first met, though he clearly had misgivings about sharing that information. Expecting Satan to be anything less than honest with her now was solely her own paranoia talking. But her paranoia still makes a few good points. ]
To be quite honest, I can't imagine how it wouldn't matter. My title meant everything back home. Sometimes, it felt like that was the only thing anyone could see of me. I don't want my title to matter here, but... could people really treat me the same as any other woman after they find out I'm a princess instead of falling over themselves groveling?
[ That might seem pretty egocentric, but Zelda means it as a genuine question. She feels like she's contradicting herself, saying that being the princess of a fallen kingdom doesn't mean anything while also worrying that people will still kowtow to her title. It's not possible for both of those things to be true. But worries aren't rational like that.
After a pause, she adds, ] For what it's worth, [ Yes, she's intentionally echoing him. ] I appreciate that you were rude enough to write to me. Talking helps.
no subject
As much as it may seem otherwise, the circumstances of your birth do not completely define you. Yes, it may be true that there are individuals who may only ever see you for your title -- the unfortunate ones who will never know Just Zelda -- just as it is equally true that there are individuals who are happy to know Just Zelda.
But you must be willing to accept the willingness of other people to accept you for who you are. I myself struggle with that. It's not an easy thing to do, to allow yourself to be open and vulnerable. Consider, though, that if your expectations of others is that they will only ever think of you as Princess Zelda, then all you're doing is creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. You'll start to notice the behavior of others and assume they're doing it because of your title, even if they feel otherwise about you.
If you ever need proof that people other than myself exist who are willing to accept you for who you are rather than what you are, let me know. I'll introduce you to my brother if you haven't met him already. His name is Mammon, the Avatar of Greed, but I'll let you make your own conclusions about the type of person he is.
[ Satan imagines that Mammon's reaction to learning that Zelda is a princess would be a very bored "Okay, and?" He's the best person Satan knows who can really hammer home the fact that titles, royalty or otherwise, do not define a person completely... both through Mammon's weird acts of charity and in Mammon's inability to see himself as anything other than the top of any hierarchy. ]
Moreover, not everyone is familiar with the expectation that those with royal blood ought to be revered. Or maybe they are, and they fall over themselves groveling at first until they realize that you are a young woman who is just as -- Hylian? Human? Mortal -- as they are.
Ultimately, all I can really do is make a promise that I will treat you as Zelda, a young woman who is absolutely not a cursed squash. Although I do hope you will allow me to continue to call you Little Miss Squash regardless.
[ He's become quite fond of the nickname. It's very creative for someone who named a stray cat Sir Cat, okay? ]
no subject
But Zelda does manage to hold back her retort. As she reads and rereads what he wrote, she realizes that he is right.
She's doing the same thing that her father used to do: seeing only her title, her heritage. Growing up, Zelda always wanted him to see that her latent powers weren't the only part of who she was, but that was all he paid attention to. In her fear that no one in Songerein would see her as anything but a princess, she wasn't giving them a chance to prove her wrong.
It takes Zelda several long minutes to think of how to respond, long enough that it might seem like she fell asleep. But eventually, her picturesque penmanship returns to the page. ]
Thank you. I did not think about it like that. I was just [ A pause. ] scared.
It has been a long time since I've had anyone who I could talk to about things like this. [ It feels like a lifetime has passed since she and Link were last able to talk (though it was always Zelda who did most of the talking). It's nice. ]
Perhaps I will resume introducing myself with my royal title and trust that others will not prostrate themselves before me.
[ Moments later, as an afterthought. ] And yes, you may continue to call me 'Miss Squash.' [ Is the missing "Little" an accident or an intentional omission? Take that as you will. ]
no subject
It's okay to be afraid. It's a natural feeling when confronted with the unknown -- the unknown of whether someone is fond of you because of the public persona you carefully maintain or because they've caught glimpses of the persona you hide away. Someone who has never felt that fear is ignorant.
[ Satan is positive he has been alive tens of times longer than Zelda has, and he still has this fear. His brothers treat him as family, but he wonders what they really feel when they look at him. Do they look at him and remember their Fall from the Celestial Realm? Do they remember their sister who (supposedly) died in the war that led them to Fall? Or worse, do they see him as a fragment of Lucifer, who talks like Lucifer and acts like Lucifer and may as well just be Lucifer? He hopes not. But the fear is there, heavy and persistent and suffocating. A normal fear, he reminds himself, because he's trying to set a good example here. ]
I am always glad to speak with you, Zelda. Or write as in this case. Unfortunately, I have six brothers and we spend too much time arguing, criticizing each other and being either too selfish or too arrogant to sit down and have discussions like this. Honestly, it's a blessing there's only two of us here. We're very poorly behaved sometimes....
[ He writes this despite being the type of person who follows the rules... unless him breaking the rules will result in Lucifer suffering in some fashion. But Lucifer's not here, so there's not much point in breaking the rules or being too chaotic. Lucky Songerein. ]
Anyway, I think you should introduce yourself in a way that's most comfortable to you. I recommend "I am Zelda, Princess of Hyrule" or "I am Princess Zelda of Hyrule. Please address me as (Whichever name you are in the mood for)." Because sometimes you might want someone to call you and treat you like a princess.
[ He sees that part of his request has not been directly approved!! Therefore, he will conveniently take her omission of the word "Little" as a mistake on her part. ]
I must ask, Little Miss Squash, are you implying that it is normal for people in your world to prostrate themselves before you regularly? I can't tell if you're being entirely serious.
[ His title is nearly equivalent to that of a prince, and people don't even incline their head to him!! Meanwhile, Zelda is concerned people might essentially throw themselves at her feet upon hearing her title.... Granted, he can see why that would be frustrating. It would get very tiring after a single day of it. ]
no subject
She sinks a little lower into her bed, an amused smile tugging her lips as Satan complains about his brothers. Growing up as an only-child, Zelda often wished she had a sibling to share her lonely life with, especially after her mother died. She'd like to think that she would get along perfectly with any sibling she could have had, but even Zelda realizes that's probably wishful thinking. She tries to think back over the months to remember if she has met Mammon before, but a second face similar to Satan's isn't coming to mind. (And she's getting too drowsy to think to check the journal directory.)
As Satan calls her out on her worry about people prostrating themselves before her, she blushes a little bit with embarrassment. ]
Well, not regularly, but it happens sometimes. [ Read: almost never. ] Perhaps I exaggerated a bit. In my defense, all cultures have different royal etiquette, including within Hyrule. I simply thought perhaps those from other worlds might be accustomed to more rigid formalities.
[ She's still exaggerating. Zelda has absolutely know idea how formally or casually people in Songerein are going to treat royalty. Her only experience so far has been when she met Prince Hans, who entreated her to address him informally as just 'Hans.'
Oh.
That's probably what she could have done this whole time. Zelda recalls specifically that she barely batted an eye at Hans's request. Her reaction to Hans is probably closer to how most dreamwalkers will react to her royal title, not the frantic kowtowing Zelda is fretting about.
Whoops. ]
no subject
You are probably right that different worlds and cultures handle interaction with royalty differently than to what you or I might be accustomed. With so many people here from so many different worlds, it's to be expected.
I've yet to meet someone particularly unkind in this place. A little rude, perhaps, but never unkind. I'm positive that if they treat you with more formality than you like, you'll gently (or firmly) tell them how you'd like to be addressed. Then, like the decent person they will be, they'll acknowledge your request and adjust their behavior.
Or, they might be like me and only half acknowledge your request, opting to call you a nickname they've grown fond of.
[ Satan is sure that it's too late for his poor effort joke of "grown" and his nickname of Little Miss Squash to be noticed. That's okay. He'd rather get away with it. ]
That being said, I'm not very good at staying up this late, especially when there's reading involved. If it's all right with you, I should probably go to sleep. Oh, but before that, I wanted to confirm that I'd be happy to meet with you to exchange our research over coffee or tea whenever you're available.
no subject
Either way, Zelda is sinking lower and lower into her bed, eyelids so heavy that she has to reread his words a couple of times here and there. ]
Yes, I believe sleep would be most prudent now, before one of us falls asleep in our journals.
And yes, I would most enjoy meeting you to compare notes over refreshments. When we are better rested, let us discuss when would be best for both of us.
Goodnight, Satan. Thank you for staying up with me.