Dana
The moment "Friend" Said yes to the beach (though it took a bit of explaining), he reached his arm to loop around Friend's own, his other hand pushing the mask up and to the side to bring the conch shell at his neck up to his lips. The horn blows, a three note rising song, and a whirlwind of sand and shells surrounded the two. 

When the sand enveloped those who had vision fully, it dropped straight down. And before them was the ocean. The scent of the sea filled Gold's nose, and his ears twitched with the familiarity of the shifting beneath his feet. Even if this is not his ocean, it was soothing in a way he could not describe. 

"There we are. It is startling the first time, Friend, are you okay? ... I am unsure if there is anyone around."
Teresa
Friend (as he now thought of as his name) had not really known what Gold had meant by going 'to the beach' except that Gold had explained water and sand... And plenty of opportunities to hunt food. With his desire to find 'the King' and serve them fulfilled, Friend didn't have much in the way of complex goals, and he didn't bother to try to think of any. 

Food was good a motivation as it had always been, so he'd let Gold take his arm and blow on... Something. Friend couldn't remember the name, and he didn't care anyway. 

He regretted his decision a moment later, and when the two arrived at the beach, Friend was clinging to Gold with a vice-like grip, shivering violently. 

He hissed, spat out sand, and clung to Gold tightly, too startled to speak.
Ronald
Their head raises, ears tilting up... Before deciding it must just be locals.

Fierce had just begun getting their things together from the inn. Their armor resolutely in place, gilded sword strapped to their back, and every item they need on hand. They didn't want to stick around too long, and what better time then right after awakening. 

The traveling swordsman did take one moment though. Sitting by one of the docks the pale haired Link was, chewing idly at some bread they'd managed to trade for earlier. It wasn't exactly fresh, but it wasn't stale enough to bother them for now. It served fine enough to satiate their hunger as they stared out into the open sea, letting the smell of salt soothe their nerves.

... It... Was a strange hour for locals to be out. They could hear just distant voice and spitting. Hm. It... It is fine. They will be leaving momentarily anyways.

Somehow, they aren't quite reassured.
Dana
There's a soft, echoed laughter that titters out of him, a hand going up to place itself in Friend's hair. He smooths it down by dragging his nails down the scalp. He dusts any excess sand off the shoulders and out of the hair from Friend, and then does the same for himself. 

"It is alright, my friend, listen to the waves, the scent of the ocean. We need you. We need your eyes. To see who is around. I must face straight forward for now, until then."

Gold faces the ocean. He knows this because it is loudest ahead, and there is the edges of something moving against his boots. The waves gently lapping there. 

... It wants to know. Was the strange one here. *Clock*. Wants to speak in person. Hear the voice. Or perhaps just to have them know that it can *Be* Here.
Teresa
The hand smoothing his hair seems to calm Friend, oddly enough. He seems to enjoy the touch, even leaning into it a little. His ears flick at the sound of the waves, and he lets go of Gold to look over at the ocean. He licks his lips, tasting salt from the air. 

...This is a beach. Ocean. With each thing Friend sees and identifies, his confused mind settles just a little more. 

His attention is taken by Gold's voice, and the Sheikah glances back at him. Yes. His friend is blind. And friends help each other. So he forgets the fear of the strange object and whirling sand and takes in the landscape, searching. 

He has no name for 'docks', so his mind does not register as it, but he *Does* Register the figure sitting at it. He tugs at Gold's arm.

"Person. Near water. Want to go over, friend?"
Ronald
The longer they ignore it, the worse the feeling becomes.

Their eyes narrow, and they don't know how to describe it other than a pit. That something keeps falling, and perhaps that something belongs to them. It's difficult to place, but it is both troublesome and annoying.

Turn around. Just turn around and check. If it's nothing, than you are fine.

There's a crunch of them taking another bite of their food, before raising their head. It turns, and pale eyes widen. No. This is not right. This can not happen now, this can not be alright. They're half tempted to continue to ignore it- ignore that *Mask*- and simply leave.

They know they've been seen though. There is nothing they can do but turn their head back to the ocean, and wait.
Dana
Gold can feel Friend relax against him, and a smile creeps onto his face. The mask is shifted back down from is slightly lifted place. It truly does not take long for Friend to focus back up, which is very good. It means he can check around.

Fortune strikes, of course, it has always struck since the Mask has joined him. A few exceptions, but those are to be expected. There is a tilt of the head, but Gold turns his head to face the sound of Friend's voice and the tug. 

"Yes, yes. Let us go say hello... It is louder here, I may have a harder time following your footsteps if you move quiet. But take us closer, friend."

It is trying so hard not to rattle. It must know first who this curious one is. Who acts surprised upon arrival, and then suddenly cordial. Who keeps getting visitors.
Teresa
"I will lead, friend."

He takes Gold's hand and gives it a small tug, indicating his friend should follow his lead. 

As they get closer, it strikes him this person is strange. They look strange. He doesn't think people look like that. But his friend wants to talk to them, so he will lead his friend.

He stops a couple feet away from the strange person.

"Here, friend. You face them."

He stares at this person himself, unblinking. He is tense... Poised, it seems, to either flee or attack if he thinks his friend is in danger.
Ronald
They can hear them as they approach. The shift of sand under their steps, hidden amongst the sounds of the sea. Each one feels like a countdown, and once more that feeling pools within.

They take a breath of salt filled air.

"... Can I help you two? I was just about to leave".

The question is asked pointedly. A quiet and raspy voice hardly above the noise of the sea, similarly hindered by how flat it was delivered. No annoyance certainly, but not much of anything as Fierce turns their head to regard them both.

Their eyes shift to the crack in the mask, then to the strange companion at their side, before turning away.
Dana
The bandaged hand tightens when grasped, and Gold allows himself to be led, his head tilting slightly to listen above the waves. His ears seemed to always be raised for this reason. He is thankful, though, for his cloak. It was a bit cold at night, here. 

But as they stopped, and the two heard the voice— the mask rattles in place. Shifting small motions by tilting. *Yes, this one. This is the curious one. The voice is the same.* Though it was very quiet compared to the roar of the sea. 

"Hello again, strange friend. *Clock?* Yes? I heard you were leaving the ocean. What fortune that we would be nearby." 

Gold had no way of knowing what this person looked like, and he was unsure as to why they were so interested. But a friend, though strange and hiding secrets, is a friend that could be gathered nonetheless.

"This is my new traveling companion. His name is Friend, you see. Knows not his own. I am curious, though, you see. You gather a lot of people wishing to speak with you."
Teresa
He tilts his head, watching this strange person. He doesn't like their voice. He doesn't like it at all. He doesn't know why it bothers him, but he keeps himself close to his friend, just in case.

"I am Friend," He agrees, pleased to simply have a name. 

He feels less confused with a name. He is Friend and Servant, and he is content in this. 

He doesn't say anything more, content to watch and listen. His friend wants to speak to this strange person, and while he does, it is up to Friend to keep watch for any danger.

For now, he is calm and content, his raging mind stilling.
Ronald
"Seems people decided I had something worth saying".

It's again one of those vague truths. Where what he is saying is correct and carries that strength, yet answers so very little. A strong tendency from them thus far, as wood shifted under their legs as they stood from the dock to turn. Regard them fully, as much as they loathe the very sight of that mask.

"I take it you are Gold, then. To put it short, Asano is a friend of mine. The Champion had questions regarding temporal phenomena. I'm not exactly what one would call particularly "Social"".

His very fractured, combined soul burned at just that rattle. He kept still enough, kept his voice level enough, but oh how hearing it in person was worse. They're lucky to be so expressionless now. Were they anything less but steel, then they would be molten.

"A pleasure to meet you and Friend, though. I hadn't expected your arrivals".
Dana
Gold is grateful, that Friend is close enough to brush against every now and then. It lets him know that he's here. Because while it is always the two of them, sometimes even then it becomes lonely. 

And *Boring*. 

"*Champion*... And **Asano*." *Champion.* Like a title. Asano, like a name. The titles and named. This meant that Champion is also him. A Link. Like the one before him. *One must understand. One of them must understand us, right?*

"... Not social... You remind me faintly, of a friend I once had. It's a shame. We played, back and forth, for a very long time. I was so sorrowful when he broke."

The mask rattles.

"It is a pleasure. I think we must go, though. Off to rest, and continue on our way. I am searching, you see, for strength."
Teresa
Vague words from both. To Friend's fractured mind, they are nonsensical. He doesn't want to think too much on it. Trying to think too much hurts and fills him with a strange, empty feeling he can't describe.

Almost like his heart aches.

He doesn't like it, so he just leans against his friend, enjoying the contact. It makes him feel safe.

"Strength," He agrees. "I am friend and servant, and I help find strength."

He sounds pleased with such a concept, and he again leans against his friend much like a cat seeking affection.
Ronald
That clicks in a way that they cannot ignore, even for trying.

Their hands curl tightly into fists, and they turn their head to the side as an inhuman snarl pulls at their lips. The sound is soft, they *Force* It to be soft, but the teeth that lie within are not. Sharp, long canines that did not belong on something so close to Hylian. 

It's hard to bite your tongue, when it strikes in a way far too close to the heart.

*Sorrowful* Is not a word that should escape this beings tongue. If the Deity of whatever timeline this was had been broken, they have their doubts it was by man. Sorrowful. What a joke. Though when did Majora ever do anything else?

"Strength, then," They say, taking a breath and turning their head back "You both search for strength. For a reason I must assume. Do you care to tell? Admittedly, I am curious".

It takes everything within them to not take that mask here and now. It takes everything within them to keep from returning the favor.
Dana
Ears twitch, just barely picking up on a noise but it cannot quite be placed. It comes to his attention that perhaps the ocean was not a good place to meet anymore. *I already had a bad experience with the ocean, remember? I told you.* 

It is no matter. If something was done, or said, Friend would tell him— yes? 

Friend leans up against Gold, so of course he places a hand atop his head again. It may appear a particularly strange sight... To be certain. But the mask tilts nonetheless, the almost glowing eyes staring and staring. 

"He finds strength to protect his king. Our game. *We* Find strength to finish my quest. I want to be in my own era to finish it, but I could also liberate this era too. It is a gift, I think, we could give."
Teresa
He enjoys the head pats, but he catches the soft sound of a growl, and he growls in response. 

Is that... Person growling at his friend? That won't stand. Not at all.

He moves with feline grace, coming to stand in front of his friend, crouched slightly. Ruby red eyes glare at the stranger, a warning clear in them. He will protect his friend. 

"My friend will find strength," He says, his voice still partially a growl. "You. Do not touch my friend."

He wants to leave. He doesn't like this.

"Friend," He says. "They want to hurt you."

He knows the intent. He knows the gaze of a predator. He won't let his friend he hurt.
Ronald
"Do not speak to me like that".

The words were ground out sharply, sternly. If that weren't enough, they stepped forward themselves. Their eyes held no fear- in fact, they held nothing. No pupils, no reflection, just burning white *Light*.

Kurran is grabbed by the front of his robes roughly, pulled down to look Fierce in the eyes. That same snarl shows on their face again, all teeth and frustration, before he speaks. Quiet, rasped, and yet straight to the point.

"If I was going to hurt anyone here, I would have. So keep your tongue to yourself. Whatever part of this game you partake in, I do not care. We aren't touching anyone that doesn't give us issues".

Kurran is released with a push back, those white eyes rising to meet with the ones of the other mask.

"This land has suffered enough. If you "Gift" Means further anguish, you will find it hard to have any kindness left towards you".
Dana
It was a sickly sort of sweet, the feeling that Gold felt when Friend stepped forward to protect him. Something like pride, but not quite. At a certain point it becomes a murky slurry of emotions that cannot be pinpointed whose is which anymore. 

Perhaps why he could not label it. It may have been too complex.

But what he does know, is he hears movement. The gripping of cloth. The harsh rattle of the mask. 

*Displeased.* Ears lowered slightly. That's *Mine*. *My servant. My toy. Mine.*

A body that was once slack, casual, grew taut and straight. It was quick. 

The moment it heard the cloth be released, heard shifting back, a longsword was unsheathed and swung— rigid, automatic— the tip managing to land just at the neck of *Clock*. The head tilts. 

"He is *Mine*. They are both *Mine*. You are *Lucky*. I do not have time for you. *Apologize, now.*" The echo is *Harsh*, angry. The eyes of the mask seem to glow brighter with the moonlight hitting it.
Teresa
He snarls, wishing he still hand fangs. Unlike the other two, fear coats this Sheikah. Fear of the unknown, fear of the being that he knows could easily harm him. He is weak, weak, *Weak*. Soft and vulnerable. 

*I am supposed to be a hunter. A warrior. Protector.*

He remembers *That* Clearly now. He is a servant and a protector. So he must protect his friend, who must also be his King. 

Once lowered, he retreats, pressing against his friend, seeking comfort, seeking safety and most of all, seeking the knowledge his friend is still here for him. 

"My friend," He says. "My king. I am his servant. Don't touch him. Don't hurt him."

There is... A pleading note to his voice? He sounds genuinely distressed. The only person to give him any purpose, to help him understand what he needs to do. He doesn't want his friend hurt. He remembers a servant is supposed to belong to their king, and his friend is his king, so this is what's right. 

"My king," He says, again. "My king needs me."

That distress in his voice again. What could he be think of?
Ronald
"A *Puppet*," His voice hisses "Of course you'd pull someone vulnerable under your thumb. You always do. *You're nothing without them after all*".

He doesn't apologize, not even close. He'd rather die again than do anything that Majora tells them. Even with a sword so close to his throat, he doesn't relent. He isn't scared any longer. All he feels, is raw *Rage*.

He growls before it's a snarl. Before he thinks they're moving, head shifting back before using his bracer to shove the weapon to the side. His own empty hands do not stay such, sound akin to the ticking of a clock as he finds his weapon. Heavy in any hand but his own, as they shift back.

"*You*, are lucky. I would love to shatter you here and now. *You make it very tempting*".
Dana
A arm wraps around Friend, the muscles beneath it leaner than they should be but still flexed and ready. The hand moves, soothing, up and down Friend's arm. This was more fluid, instinctual. But the arm holding up the sword is held aloft like marionette strings. Up until it's shoved aside. 

The blade flourishes instead, spinning and swiping out to Gold's right side. Right handed. In his ears he hears the sound of a clock... *Like the nickname.* 

"You will not." It's certain, almost nauseatingly so. "You will let us walk away. Because you are softened. I am still playing a game." The mask tilts to the right as the sword is sheathed. 

"I think I will like this new one we have, dragon. But you have to let me prepare first, otherwise it's unfair. So, these toys are mine until I am done." *Hostages. They are tarnished toys but they can certainly be broken.*
Teresa
He relaxes under the touch, soothed. He had been starved for touch for so long... It felt good to be comforted. 

He doesn't speak, though he bares his teeth at the person in a silent snarl. He doesn't like them. He is not a puppet. He is a servant to his king, and that is a good thing, 

It is *Right*. 

If he had been of more sound mind, perhaps the Sheikah would have been alarmed at being called a toy. As it were, his mind was still too confused to truly understand the implications. He only knew his friend was comforting him while this other was threatening him.
Ronald
"Threatening those you've made cling to you, for your own continued existence" They growled, "How characteristic. Truly the same as ever, Majora".

By now he's well aware the ruse is well over with. They both know, for better and for worse. Though at least in this exchange they have learned, and it had best be enough. Majora was weaker, that crack means only such a thing- a crack in their masks was like injury to most. It siphons energy, and now he knows why Majora hasn't simply wrought ruin in a single motion.

It *Can't*.

That would have to serve as enough ease for now. Though the mission it has deluded its host into embarking could only spell horrid things, it would not be able to do so in an instance. They have time, or at least more time than they thought, to plan. To see what can be done, and whether or not the puppets can be salvaged. Though he desperately wants to end them both here- if there is something worth living in there, it'd be a shame to snuff it out.

Are they softened? Has being mortal, bound to one, truly caused him to let go so quickly? Were he the same as he once was, he'd not hesitate. Yet here...

"... Fine" He muttered out, shifting to raise himself to his height. "A game it shall be, mask. We have the days, after all".

There's a pause, a breath. Then the voice that comes returns to that steady calm. That monotone of nothing, detached and unheld.

"What shall this game be, old friend"?
Dana
There's an agreement made, a silent one. The both of them know that it is not fully powerful. It only makes sense to rely on things other than power for a time. However, it still poises its vessel to steel himself, to listen for the sound of a weapon swing. 

It... Is excited. It's friend has come back. The hand that comforts squeezes lightly, as if knowing what was said himself. Protective. Comforting. He *Tries*. 

... A rattle sounds. *Yes. I knew it was going to work. You have grown soft. Or perhaps you have missed my games?*

If Majora could grin, it certainly would right now. 

"Yes! Yes, old friend, yes. This will be a game of focus. All of your focus is on the disgusting sludge in the rivers. If you are all trained on that, there is not *Enough* On *Me*. You fix that first, and then we shall play a *Proper* Game. But you will have to find me again. Cat and mouse."
Teresa
Ruby eyes flickered between both beings, much like a cornered animal trying to decide how to flee. He wasn't enjoying this... He didn't like the two were speaking. He didn't like the way they acted toward each other. His friend was starting to make him nervous. 

*Be patient. Watch. Observe.*

His mind whispered to him, old instincts that belong both to leopard and Sheikah. He remembers battles... And he remembers no battle was won without careful observation. 

So, again, he says nothing. He simply watches.

Observes.

And slowly begins to learn.
Ronald
"A game of focus," They repeat slow, that glow of their eyes dulling till pale irises can be seen once more "On the nightmare infestation. You desire an audience".

It's only natural. Of them both, Majora had always been the one that desired the attention. He can't imagine that it would be content to have that attention split between itself and something that could hardly appreciate it. So he hums in what sounds to be agreement. The Nightmare will come first, so the true game can begin. It doesn't bother him. He doubts the Shade will give up its observations, it will simply be biding time.

"The others seem to believe the nightmare takes priority... I see why that would be troublesome" The Fierce Deity stated, tilting his head. "Then I will ensure that it will be eradicated. So that our game may begin properly".

There's that tick as his hands are freed. There are doubts that grow from within. *It will use that time to grow stronger*. *It can't be trusted to simply lie dormant as the nightmare is dealt with*. *It will-*

And he knows. He understands the doubts, but curiosity is a strong thing. It'd be years since he'd had the opportunity to play their "Game" Of choice, and it was strange to be in the presence of something that they had killed. There was more to know, more to learn. If it were to grow stronger, then he too will simply have to match.

"Consider this a tenative agreement, for now".
Dana
There's a slow nod of agreement. *Yes, that is exactly correct.* There should not be any real surprise. They liked big, flashy acts. 

Like giving the moon a face, and bringing it crashing down into the planet. Well— not *This* Majora. But it was comperable to the Majora of the other timeline. Even if this one didn't know the story itself. 

It certainly knew of the flashy way it finally defeated its own Fierce Deity. But... That was neither here nor there. Perhaps a story as a reward for finally starting their game together. Because it was so very interesting to be in front of something that they had killed once more, a second chance at it all.

"I am so glad you agree, old friend. It means the world! I shall be around, then. But I grow weary of talking. So come, Friend, we are leaving!"

Gold's frame finally loosens, a shaking exhale leaving him. Ears twitch, as if regaining feeling or checking the surroundings before the mask turns to Friend. 

"... We are leaving." Quieter, now, not as loud as Majora had once been.