Twinkle, Twinkle

Prologue

Disclaimer: I own jack squat here. In other words, nothing. Everything mentioned is not my own creation (execpt for Dauville and its associates, I made those up. If it's an actual town, name belongs to them.) and all credit goes to rightful owner.

I set up the personality as it is for a reason. It will become a plot device. Until that opportunity is plausible, you'll have to go with.

Galaxy!Link is my own AU character. Link and the entire franchise called "The Legend of Zelda" strictly belongs to Nintendo. I only claim the idea of the Galaxy!Au, which can be applied to any series. The Galaxy!AU includes my own interpretation of how being extraterrestrial would be, but the idea of characters living in space is not my own. 

Did dreams come true?

Yours sure didn't.

You had to fight your parents to the (metaphorical) death to study your major of choice, instead of taking over the family business of cultivating and distributing all sorts of seeds for garden plants. You'd take a low-funding college a hour away from home over spending the rest of your foreseeable future behind a desk dealing with complaints and other ecology related problems. 

At least an astrologist gets doesn't deal with customer complaints. Yeah, you wanted to be an astrologist. 

You, (Y/N), were a cynical girl of 21, with short-cropped (H/C) hair, (E/C) eyes, and very practical clothes. Jeggings that were slightly uncomfortable with the fabric that leaned towards sturdiness rather than showy. A coarse green t-shirt from your 4-H club, the Dauville Daybringers. Didn't sound so much like a 4-H club than a superhero team from the 200X's.

You wore some tight hand-me-down purple Converses. You were due for a new pair, but hey, according to everyone's opinion, your entire wardrobe was long overdue for an upgrade. You were just very... frugal. As long as it worked, it didn't need to be pretty. And you had to prove to your parents that you could manage money.

The Dauville high school was populated mostly with outdoorsy kids, like hunters, fishers, and trappers. Perfect candidates for a 4-H club. Then there were the other kids of worth to the "real world", like the academics and other kids on the higher end of the IQ scale. A few athletic people, enough for a single team, some kids who loved music and the arts, and some presidential candidates in the making. 

And where did you fit into this label-centric school social system? 

None of the above. Not smart enough to sit with the academics, not even close to sporty, spent too much time on YouTube for the outdoors kids, and too much time outside for the tech crew, ect., etc. But you had something that half of the school didn't.

Social smarts. You were always very attentive to social cues, and could swim underneath the radar enough to fit in, but were big enough of a metaphorical fish to make yourself seen. The kids you wanted to befriend (out of the goodness of your heart or because they had something was your own business) just required some planning. Make yourself known to them, then 1) offer yourself as a potential candidate, or 2) play hard-to-get and make them invite you, so to incite some minor drama and uproar into the normal orderly and somewhat unfair social order.

You were a social player, is all. Nothing more, nothing less.

Turning on your 3-year-old phone, you opened Messaging. Scrolling through your contact list, you opened chat with the one guy going to the same college (Westing College) as you. 

Marcus Birchson. 

Marcus was an academic, tall for his age and had sandy blonde hair and bright hazel eyes. Taller than you, taller than most kids. He wasn't shy or quiet, but he wasn't bold either. You barely knew the kid's name 'til you realized you were going to the same college!