“I am Princess Zelda of Hyrule.”
Her reply was automatic and curt. Not that she ment it disrespectfully; It was merely a forced habit. The court relished any opportunity to cry dishonor on unsuspecting souls.
With that mindset, Zelda straightened up, running a hand through wind swept hair. It was going to kill her to lay aside her curiosity- The Repairman pratically radiated with mystery!- but she had to take care of business first.
“I would like to invite you inside to rest, once the port- ah, Wall, is properly handled. You must be exhausted after your travels, Mister Repairman.”
Zelda decided to hold off on any nicknames. She didnt think he’d appreciate the only one that came to mind, ‘Grumpy’.

“Oh, well…” the Repairman cleared his throat. His posture seemed to improve, and he tried to avert his eyes. "‘Scuse me, your highness.“

He risked looking at the Wall.

“That shouldn’t take too long, your graceful…um… holiness,” he decided, realizing too late he had forgotten a lot of formal titles (he did not meet up with royalty often). “I would be honored to stay here for a moment.”

He tapped his siren light.

“You’ll have to excuse me, your lofty televangelness, but I can’t–I mean, cannot say how long I can stay for. Mine is…an unpredictable business.”

He waited to see if it was okay for him to finish repairs.

“…Hm? Oh!”
Zelda quickly adverted her eyes. Hot guilt churned heavily in her stomach, tinting her cheeks a light pink. It didnt matter what kind of creature this…thing was- it had feelings too; And it obviously didnt take to being gwaked at.
“You must pardon me; My curiosity tends to get away from me at times. I-um…Oh, I dont believe I caught your name…?”

The Repairman softened just a bit; he could understand a bit of curiosity. Still, he didn’t need the reminder of his basic, yet unusual, form.

He shook off those thoughts and shrugged.

“Eh,” he said, “Don’t have one. Just a job. Though people have called me everything from Tinker to Mr. Repairman to Inky…”

He trailed off, realizing that for something that didn’t matter that much to him, he had several names.

“…But you can call me what you want. Anyway, who’re you?”

heros-bane:

Real life.
Now where had she heard that term coined before? It was rather hard to think about that while she watched the creature before her- Where did he even pull that bucket from, anyways?
“Um…Have you heard of Anon creatures? Ive only seen one; But Kitterah told me about the Gods and Goddesses that reside beyond in that realm.”
Studying the thing again, perhaps he (…it?) was an Anon…Or perhaps a distant kin from them.

“Oh, you know Kitterah too?” he asked. “Nice anon, but the only named one I know…”

He looked around. That talk about gods and goddesses didn’t seem to be doing any damage…

“…Yeah,” he admitted, “that’s pretty much how it is.”

He noticed her eyeing him oddly. He indignantly shrunk back a little, dragging the bucket with him.

“Hey,” he said, irritably, “I know I don’t…exactly…fit here, but do you have to stare?”

The princess took the gesture as an opportunity to glance around, especially near the roots of the hedge walls. If this creature was any kin to the Termina’s Boes than it would have numbers hidden close by.
“Of course, the garden’s closed off at night. I just wanted…”
She trailed off herself. There was no sense in talking when he wasnt going to listen- If Zelda wanted to be ignored she wouldve stayed in her court.
“Is- Why call it a wall? N-not to sound rude, but that’s not a wall. It’s almost like a pond was somehow turned on its side.”

“Wait, a pond turned sideways?” he asked. “First time I heard it described like that.”

The Repairman paused for thought at the girl’s question.

“…Well, ‘boundary’ might be better,” he admitted, “but I see it as a Wall, and frankly, that’s catchier. Anyway…”

He looked back at the covered break in the Wall. He realized with a sigh that he should probably tell her what she saw.

“…that’s the Fourth Wall. It keeps our worlds and…the world they call ‘real life’ separate.”

He got his bucket of cement ready. He could tell this might be an issue.

“…yeah, I’m here to fix it, so…”

Zelda teeters back a step, regaining her balance since the wind had vanished so suddenly. Was a simple window shade enough to hold back whatever was on the other side of the portal?
“Me? But I- I didnt-”
The princess sputtered ungracefully. Why was she trying to explain herself to this talking black Boe? It mustve been a bizarre dream.
“I-it was like that when I got here.”
She felt like a kid again with her arms crossed and ears burning. The only difference this time was she was telling the truth.

The Repairman looked at the woman with a mix of confusion and…more confusion. He had met Toons who were apologetic, some not, but never someone who tried to…shift the blame? Huh…

“Well, who else would be here?” he asked, gesturing around the hedge maze. “I mean…”

He trailed off, and looked back at the shade. To him, the Wall looked concrete, but folks sometimes seemed to act like it was something different.

“…What did you see?” he asked, curious. “I’ve never seen someone pulled towards a crack in the Wall…”

He couldnt stop her in time. Zelda had already touched it, although now she wished she hadn’t.
The opening to the portal wasn’t that large and hardly noticeable. It appeared as if there was a large sheet of glass with a crack along down it, with a swirl of color in the middle. What made the princess shudder was the texture. It felt like a chu-chu; Something slimy on the surface of a clear lake.
Apparently that simple touch was enough to activate it; The portal begans to whine at a frequency that made her teeth ache. The wind rushed forward, pulling at her skirt and whipping her hair forward.
“Oh!”
She yelped, nearly losing her footing when something darted past her leg. Her journal was ripped from her grasp, lost to the portal.
Zelda fought against the wind; Putting some distance between her and the black blob before digging her heel in the ground. She had to shout to be heard over the whine.
“What in Farore’s creation is happening?!”

Confound it. More work for him.

He looked at the woman with annoyance, and then with curiosity. He noticed her skirt and hair billowing, like there was some kind of wind. Some kind of wind blowing towards the crack in the wall.

The Repairman understood that most didn’t see a wall quite like he did. But he had never seen someone be pulled towards the Wall (or lose a book to it, for that matter). And she was shouting, like the wind was strong. He’d better fix this quickly.

He frantically dug through his hammerspace until he found a rolled-up window shade and a few bobby pins. He set the shade above the crack and pinned it in place. Once he rolled it down, he pinned it so the shade stayed over the crack without moving.

That should do it.

He turned back to the woman with a somewhat accusatory look.

“You shouldn’t be poking those cracks. Just makes ‘em worse.”

After a moment’s thought, he asked, “How’d this get here, anyhow?”

He figured if he found out what she was doing, he could help her prevent these in the future.